Poetry Collection – by Tamsen Grace

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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.


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.

tamsengraceTamsen 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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