My left hand

I look at my left hand

I see lines of life, love and heart

it feels soft though it is strong

with the many struggles it has endured

much like a Hawaiian orchid

it has color, though it is not purple

it is still beautiful in its own right

because it has yielded to nothing

yes, it wilts and wrinkles with age

having more lines to show from it

and, as the orchid dies,

so too will my hand, body and brain

but not before they, both, bring joy

one to dazzle with just a glimpse

the others to bring forth beauty

with words typed on a page

for those who care to look upon it

©2004 – Tamara Imes

Edited 2015

Board with Games

unemployed

un-enjoyed

masterminds’

master plan’s

making some noise

(no one gets destroyed,

well, maybe some toys)

who like to play games

seeking their fame

they all smell the same

go by the same names

“cocksucker, ass-kisser”

a “miss” or a “mister”

a friend or her sister

your wife’s getting blisters

from counting your money

I know you’re no dummy

don’t look at me funny

who’s running what?

is it “some what?” or “so what?”

it’s no different the loss

if you’re not the boss

expenses keep growing

without you even knowing

caught it all in a glimpse

haven’t mentioned it since

what a messenger am I

if I don’t, even, try

delivering sensitive material

to people so fragile?

but back to my plan

oh yes, back again

I need to move on

to see a new dawn

so with closure in place

I’ve cleaned out my space

to bring something new

not much left to do

©December 18, 2007—Tamara Imes-Nicholas

Edited 2015

It's No Surprise

so what do you think

about this nation of ours?

the economy stinks

but there’s money for war

the president lies

then that's nothing new

if he told you to kiss his ass

that's exactly what you'd do

some say I go too far

I bow down for no man

take your guns and your war

shove them all in a trash can

I've said it before

hell, I'll say it again

Bush can kiss my ass

I'm not a republican

they're closing women's shelters

for all the battered wives

they support outsourcing jobs

it doesn't affect their lives

so go ahead and rejoice

for Bush's victory

while more blood is spilled

don't celebrate next to me

©2004--Tamara Imes

Empty Shell

bittersweet are the whispers
shadows dancing through the night
as love is made it changes nothing
an empty shell of a woman he holds tight
adulteration contaminated everything
that used to sanctify holy matrimony
he admits to nothing nor shows compunction
though she knows everything
she wants to leave but has no means
she hungers for the ability to cry
her desire for any sort of release
from this frustration that is so immense
at times she feels as though
her heart will burst wide open
still, she can’t show anything
while placating to his satisfaction
she’s plotting a long game
giving her and her son the advantage
if, only, she would have listened to
the warning given to her
she would have been able to avoid
the horrors done to her by him
injuries of mind, body and Spirit
that the, pathological liar,
claimed were extraneous
finally, she is free to be all
that she was meant to be before
shaking hands with the devil
before a justice of the peace
and two witnesses – her father and niece
who had no idea she’d been warned
her mother told her it was her fault
that she should be a better wife
after a long and arduous
three and a half years, which
(coincidentally) was the same amount of time
she was bonded to this sociopath
all she wants now is what was taken 
from her or lost trying to escape the torment
and so it goes for her son and herself
after leaving the country failed
at least this battle had ended
now she awaits her dues for the fight
that became her debt to Karma
most lessons can, only, be learned
after severe pain or consequence

©2008 – Tamara Imes-Nicholas (edited 2015)

Earth to Liz Claiborne

Heaven help her, she looks upset
a crowd draws near, as she screams
what have you done with it?
the onlookers stare, curious, but not concerned
my train is gone, I’ve missed my chance

**static sounds from above**

Earth to Liz Claiborne, you never had one

If she could, just, spank my monkey,

a man from the crowd cries out,
then we could pretend to be whole again

silence pounds on everyone as the girl drops dead

the man tries to breathe life into those full, fish lips
you would have been great, dancing on my glory,
he says, as he stops attempting life support,
the train missed you doll you didn’t miss a thing

disinterested now, the gathering of cretins

dissembles and moves on, going about their business
after gathering around, watching the authorities
and the ambulance arrive to take her away
the only one left, who showed any concern

the man who, apparently, owned a “monkey”
was he trying to trade up?
no one cared to ask him or help her
it’s just another day in “civilized society”

 

©2004 – Tamara Imes

Dubya (W)

unraveling twine
in a world supine
where blood flows like wine
don’t ask me for mine

insignificant schmuck
out to make a buck
you’re having bad luck
middle class, gone, you fuck

you should feel so bad

I am very glad
to see your gonads
hit hard without pads

it’s just been so hard

to catch you on guard
now here’s your reward
“powerless” my detest regards

©2004 – Tamara Imes

Divine Introspection

Candles ignited as

Oils burn aromatic oblation

Divine Introspection

Devouring my enemies

Third eye sees everything

Catch and release

but not if threatened

Squash the arachnid

Humans, dominant species

Intended to dominate

Death is predestined

Sometimes the spider bites

while you’re safe, soundly asleep

Fate is fate

Universal Laws unfold

Mathematics can’t solve

Quantum physics comes close

but, abstract thinking is required

Dynamics are immeasurable

What a cycle the Circle of Life

Never ending—interchanging

Energies unite and divide

©2006 Tamara Imes

©2015 Edited and updated – Tamara Imes-Nicholas

Climbing Out

empty, hollow points

get the point?

contemplate on how

reminisce on failures

concocting solution

sum is equal to .45

keeping it simple

trapped within a web

certainty certainly comes

quickly with a bang

don’t look so amazed

you’ve been watching

enjoying the whole thing

helped to destroy me

got just what you wanted

take out all your hatred

what’s been done to you

by women you loved

I saw evilness in you

yeah, I was coherent

been giving hate to me

sending it right back

I cried with mom today

going to California now

taper off useless chemicals

feeding insanity’s monster

take a trip to freedom

find that special someone

yes, I mean, my inner-child

full of pure empowerment

beautiful, but hard to tame

none other like it, trust me

truth can’t speak any louder

reaching deep to pull it out

my critic is trying to kill it

angels watch over me closely

helping it to climb back out

©December 25, 2007—Tamara Nicholas

Don't Count Me Out

I can’t kill death

so I hold my breath

the stench is sickening

bombs are ticking

freedom from what?

your eyes are all shut

indecent indifference

start making some sense

or maybe forget

bullet proof jacket

braving the storm

chaos takes form

more enemies made

the truth seems to fade

don’t count me out

I sit and I shout

just kill everyone

let God sort them out

©2005 – Tamara Imes

Campfire Song for the Republican Party

in the eye of the public

enemy of some

sit and hum, di-dee-dum

sing along to my song

you idiots thinking I’m wrong

guess again, I’m not the one

why does it always have to be

black and white

can’t it be

just us and that’s we

too much confusion in life

to see the grey through the hype

clear the smoke from the pipes

of my lungs, then the stripes

off the flag

that still snags

as it brags

to the whole world

we screwed up

I won’t shut up

it’s, way, too fucked up

most of you sit on our ass

not even smoking grass

while closet fags who suck dicks

are republican lunatics

controlling our fate

with nothing but hate

and really, old big money

corporate America, the real red army

can kiss my ass, I’m bent over by you

put up my finger to solute you

what the fuck you gonna do?

you know who I’m talking to

that’s right, good old boy, G.W.

and your pimp, the dick, Cheney too

©2007 Tamara Imes

Blow Me for a Job

if it was all about me

the shit wouldn’t be free

only give it if I love it

the rest of it’s shit

my problem is I love too much

creeps, liars, cheaters, and such

gives a girl no reason to trust

exchanged all the love for lust

makes “blow me” a job

look, I may wax your knob

but you will have to pay

taking your cash every day

no checks, no credit, no trades

cash money doesn’t fade

love gets lost in the mix

at the bottom of the dirty tricks

it’s the “wars with words” game

a game of shame and blame

it’s all shit, all the same

remember, I’m in the hall of fame

let’s quit playing with each other

start loving one another

then you can ditch the slut

who takes it up the butt

and I don’t have to feel like a whore

who doesn’t enjoy sex anymore

©March 2008 – Tamara Imes-Nicholas

Alliterating Press Conference - "fork tongued liar “act MCC – Are we, really, fighting Al Qaeda?

obsessed, dressed

to impress
upon the minds
of simpletons
who are blind
to the facts
of the attack
upon the nine
and the eleven
claiming heaven
sent him to set
it straight with hate
says Al Qaeda’s
who he’s going after
with some laughter
it’s a disaster
he’s twisting truth
manipulating words
his bull shit answers
are so absurd
not even the press
who asks questions
could care less
for his alliterations
making no sense
his whole defense
“The War on Terror”
he became the furor
now I’m the stirrer
of this kettle
yeah, Heavy Metal
clapping thunder
shake this blunder
formed of liars
New World Order
within our borders
capitalist system
just look at him
look at all of them
pull out your dollar
scream and holler
secret society
don’t want to be
no part of that shit
so to hell with it
don’t start to trip
I haven’t flipped
shine too bright for this
of course I got pissed
I want it to stop
before more bodies drop

©2004 – Tamara Imes

Speaking Like Arnold Horshack

if I could take a moment or two

I’d like to do what, only, I can do

here we go with the alphabet stew

from you back to me back to you

now tell me why I would bother

taking time away from my father

to dribble out this onslaught-er

“oh, oh, oh, pick me, Mr. Kotter”

yeah, that was Arnold Horshack

having some kind of attack

yes, to the point I’m coming back

you’re style’s starting to lack

no, it’s good—fucking great in fact

reminds me of me—all in tact

feeling robbed—stabbed in the back

with the punch you started to pack

shit, I’m sick of trying to rhyme

I’ll say it outright this time

hey, punk-assed bitch get your own style

no one can do what I do like I do – especially you

©2004 Tamara Imes

December (A Mirror Poem)

as the night rings cold and bitter still

the snow tastes wet and toxic

while the fire burns hot and warms the skin

the heart inside feels like ice

remembering the loss from years gone by

tears well up and run like small streams

down distraught cheeks that shake like earthquakes

outside carolers sing “Jingle Bells”

outside carolers sing “Jingle Bells”

down distraught cheeks that shake like earthquakes

tears well up and run like small streams

remembering the loss from years gone by

the heart inside feels like ice

while the fire burns hot and warms the skin

the snow tastes wet and toxic

as the night rings cold and bitter still

©2004 Tamara Imes

Cash in on Your Win

I don’t know the reasons why

you seem to pass my feelings by

I’m doing the best job I can

raising you to be a good man

I know you are working hard

trying not to drop your guard

I didn’t want you to suffer like me

so many fruits in our family tree

I tried to protect you from everything

it’s hard to watch you suffering

the fucked up things done to me

close your eyes so you don’t see

cover your ears as tight as you can

as they’re delusions surface again

I want to protect you from all of them

won't let them take my most precious gem

they’re hung up on my ugly past

just like their love, this too shall pass

I'm trying to get us out of here

while they try to keep us in fear

you’re my son and my only friend

pray every day for an amicable end

I know everything will be just fine

unless, my son, we run out of time

"you know June is coming quick"

that’s the shit that makes me sick

can’t tell you all that I’ve been shown

but I will tell you that we're on our own

this world inside my mind resembles

beautiful rainbows of fruity pebbles

it’s okay, my boy, your mom is fine

as long as I get what's truly mine

last night I dreamt of huge, crashing waves

my subconscious mind won’t behave

I gamble out of necessity

for us to be financially free

to, once again, have our own home

please son, don’t leave me all alone

I set up a trust fund for you to be

schooled at Stanford University

we can fix whatever’s broken inside

if you want to go for a very long ride

my head’s a bit foggy, my eyes too dry

an abundance of time flew right by

I should have savored every moment

the sands of time made great cement

swimming shoes, I wore, fully content

knowing your life will be better spent

your silence paired with a smug grin

tells me you’re ready to go "all in"

you know they're all bluffing again

you're not stealing or committing a sin

you're just profiting from the world you're in

it's filled with lies and bull shit attracts flies

so cash in your chips, you deserve a prize

©January 17, 2015 – Tamara Imes-Nicholas

Sweet Son of Mine

oh You Sweet, Sweet Son of mine

I wish I could keep You Safe within the lines

protect You from all those hateful and unkind

people who manipulate the Truth they want You to find

I will do anything to save you from this curse of mine

natural Gifts we share that help us help others get refined

showing us how much the human race has fallen behind

in their pursuit of happiness that’s become “the grind”

you won’t be a cliché, “keeping your nose to the grindstone”

as long as I’m here upon the earth I’ll break every bone

of your oppressors, haters and every fucking liar

looking for an Energetically, Blessed, Shooting Star

to suck the Energy and Life from You because You are

so much different than any of them who try so hard

to find beautiful Spirits and minds that are so eloquently

living life as You were Intended to live from the beginning

going through miles and piles of shit never pretending

to be something you’re not nor what you’d never, ever be

because you've encountered so many it’s so easy to see

the fake, fraudulent, soulless fucks made from iniquity

no, You won’t, because You can’t pretend You don’t see

all of these people and the things they do too frequently

trying to convince us who know what they want Us to be

it kills them to watch people like us who keep going unaffected

they want, so bad, for any one of us, to become infected

with the ill-will that lives within all of them like the "Walking Dead"

so, for now, my beautiful and intelligent son, just rest your head

mom’s here to handle them so You can develop all your Gifts

You catch on quick, I've no doubt that you’ll be able to lift

the sacks of shit they throw at people like us as we deflect

all their ugliness and animosity making them nervous wrecks

You know, by now, that mom could keep on ranting rhymes

full of all the facts to help You more than the “New York Times”

but I know you've got all you’ll need to keep from going blind

so, for now, I’ll sign off and let You develop within your own time

©December 2014 – Tamara Imes-Nicholas

Come Dig In

have you ever had one of those days

where it just doesn’t pay

to get out of bed

it’s just better for you to stay

and play like you’re dead

well, I have going on eight years now

but I still have nothing to fear about

because eight is my birth number

so I can sit back today and slumber

that number is good luck for me

it’s the number of times I’ve died you see

I’m still here though so it just may be

that the number eight identifies me

don’t shake your head, you don’t even know me

who are you to tell me, or anyone, how to be

it’s not your place to stage the game or boundaries

I color way outside of the lines, you can’t tame me

oh, yeah, you can try

but don’t you dare come cry

to me when I break the box you built

to use to confine and trap me, still

I have so much love inside some will spill

out and run up over the cup of your will

stop hating and just accept you can’t change me

it would be so much easier on you if you would see

I’m like a tiger, I need more room than you to breathe

if you try to capture my Spirit it will definitely be

the last thing you try to do on this earth, you see

I’ve been giving birth to a whole new era that might be

better or worse than any of us ever dreamed

I guess we’ll just have to sit and wait a while to see

which way the coin lands – heads or tails

so build a cross for me and sharpen your nails

I have succeeded at defying the law of gravity

are you beginning to comprehend my psyche?

it don’t matter at all because you can’t offend me

I’ve been spitting venom for years, most can’t see

all I’ve written to date, mostly filled with hate

because when I’m pissed I’m fucking great

don’t ask me why cuz I can’t explain it in words

just swing by sometime and I’ll give you the bird

then you’ll see all that has become more absurd

than trying to pass a bowling ball sized turd

it just tears a new asshole and there’s enough of them

I’ve been killing assholes to fry up so come dig in

stick with me and you’ll never be hungry again

I didn’t make the rules, remember, I just break them

©December 9, 2014 – Tamara Imes-Nicholas