The Girl and the Zombie Cowboy
For too long, I was a puppet of the fates.
How they must have laughed,
as I twisted and danced,
helplessly in their macabre play.
So I tore my strings away,
took fate in my own hands,
and I escaped to Arkansas.
I found a ride with a zombie cowboy,
who told me jokes about sheep,
and taught me,
that I didn’t always have
to be the grownup.
That it’s ok to get drunk
on hippie juice, before noon,
as you float lazily along,
debating politics and life,
with a zombie cowboy
and a man in a cowboy hat
and horseshoe glasses.
Floating in our own little cosmos,
we were a cross section of life,
different ages, at different stages of our lives.
Just drifting along in our sheltered cove,
as we slowly got drunk on sunlight,
fresh air and the beauty of a day,
where there was nothing
to do but float.
And all our myriad of problems,
some life changing, some minute,
would cease to exist
in our own little aquarium.
I learned so much in those few, short days.
Floating in the water with a head on a stick,
I learned the value of friendship.
I saw that sometimes
you have to climb up a high cliff
and jump into the water,
just because it’s in front of you.
I learned the joy of driving
fast and free over the water,
as long as you don’t let fear
make you brake too quickly.
And I learned that,
when like Atlas,
you have the weight of the whole world
on your shoulders,
at times it’s alright to shrug
and just let it fall off.
You can always pick up
the load again later.
The last night,
lying on the dock under the starlight,
being romanced by that zombie cowboy,
we talked about love and pain,
and about how hard it is
to come back to life
after you have died.
And how the stars
are brighter in Arkansas,
especially for a zombie cowboy
and for a girl
who never really learned
how to let loose and live.
When a shooting star
broke free of it’s constraints
and flew above our heads
across the luminous night sky,
we kissed for luck.
But I already knew
my luck had changed,
for how many times
do you get a chance
to run away to Arkansas,
with a zombie cowboy
and his friends,
and learn that your fate
is finally and forever,
in your own hands.
Skin Deep
Skin deep,
get under my skin
to see me,
knee-deep in this insanity,
beauty makes us weep.
Ladies,
must have thick skin,
the epitome of beauty
is said to be stick thin.
The price we pay is steep.
Shattered dreams,
lives ripped apart at the seams.
we waste away,
no respite only beauty sleep.
This Princess Saved Herself
Do words really soften the blow?
I have some words for you,
the world exists in abstract contradictions,
love hurts,
why we want
what we cant have
or crave what hurts us.
Glass slippers
always pinch your toes.
Before the happily ever after comes,
your chased by huntsman,
who want to cut out your heart,
or bad, bad wolves
with words to beat you down.
Words they use as blows,
blows they use as words,
to tell you lies
about yourself.
Cupid can shoot poison arrows,
that pierce your heart,
that make a cancer grow.
I thought the prince
would come and save me,
but I think he is still looking
for the right words
to sweep me off my feet,
so despite my throbbing toes,
this Princess saved herself.
Tamsen Grace is a published, poet, inspirational speaker, Martial Artist, A Ford Model of Courage and a Cancer Survivor. She has been published in many venues and will be in the New Anthology Dandelions in a Vase of Roses. Tamsen has just released her new poetry book “Skeletons in My Closet” through Creative Talents Unleashed. https://www.createspace.com/6692367
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