TAMSEN GRACE - POEMS

Tamsen Grace is a published poet,  a Ford Model of Courage, an artist and a cancer survivor.  She is the author of two poetry books “Skeletons in My Closet" and  “Dismantling Cinderella” published by Creative Talents Unleashed. She has been published in numerous anthologies, magazines and online sites. 


Tamsen Grace lives in the Midwest with her children. She enjoys creating art, reading, writing, biking and teaching children Martial Arts.

Nature vs Man: A Caterpillar’s Tale
​

 I understand the cost of change,
disemboweling your life
 
You say: “throw money at it and make it happen“
 
You want change to be easy,
uncommitted,
pop a pill,
with a quick, keto cure,
counteract indulgence
 
I turn myself inside out,
dissolve,
initiate my death, to fly
 
You say: “Fly Eastern Airlines. The Wings of Man”
 
You sip euphemisms, 
like Lattes at Starbucks,
regurgitating rhetoric to
 sanction your inaction
 
I reconstruct myself
inside my chrysalis sarcophagus
 
You say: “Drink Red Bull – It Gives You wings!”
 
You read your sixth self-help book
“Harnessing The Power of Habit”
 
I set myself free
and take flight
 
You’re still telling 
everyone you know,
how things are going to be different
 
 

We Will Not Go Gently
​

​Polite people do not become poets
 
We, the unmannered
offer no apologies, 
for blaspheming love in our soliloquies,
scavengers of wisdom,
measuring out the world
 with our metaphors,
step by step 
 
with our words,
we can wipe out dysfunction 
and create a new anthology
 
death will come,
someday,
for all us poets and our words,
but we will not go gently 
 
 
 

Starbucks Rebellion
​

​I’m refusing to drink Starbucks today,
my boyfriend calls it a cult,
tells me to look around when we’re in the drive thru line,
asks me, why do you see mostly women in the cars?
I say we women are notorious for wanting what’s bad for us 
 
that could be a billboard of my past 
 
I tell my kids that they must put cocaine in the coffee,
that I will drive forty minutes out of my way to get it,
but hate to drive twenty minutes to get to the grocery store 
 
 Makes me question my own priorities 
 
Or maybe it comes down to indulgence,
that part of me that makes me take my stuff out of the cart to get something for my kids,
that tells me I always need to come last on the list,
maybe Starbucks is my silent revolution,
my rebellion,
to frivolously waste money on my own satisfaction...
 
or maybe they put cocaine in the coffee