Hearts hang like fruit
weighted on branches
with sunlight whispered lips
fondling the surface they ripen
this is what we hold
flawless when in love
the friendship that has grown
the one who knows our needs
who we are in mind, the physical
our strengths admired
our weaknesses forgiven

What happens if then the
wrong tree was chosen
ours not by choice to inflict
a rancid taste into their mouths
they can elect to discard
and we withdraw into ourselves
in the end not the preferred held
in hand, our flesh will rot like fallen fruit
bruised, we lie and wither

©JMTacken 6.6.2014

I wish I could say all of me has returned, but I think I’m only an eighth at this point.

Photo Credit http://www.deviantart.com


Soft goatskin parchment
their roots lie below
twisted, each inhaling
the cool compacted earth
Waiting, they try to grow
tangled in their quest
for singular development
enshrouded by others

Limbs above breathing air
towards the dawn, hands joined
grasping light that beckons
Invisible is the shining sun
the need for nutrients required
evolvement to reach maturity
The fallen earth restricting

it all starts at the base

Let them break free of themselves
the cry of unseen entanglement
The boughs that seek the sun
to find the place where they belong
… to find their harmony

copyright JMTacken 2.6.14

It is what it is


the chapters of her life
read like a book
the page will be turned
the sentences read
paragraphs unfurl
and life at times will halt
as the full stop that she stares
at, when the sentence ends
a comma, gives time to ponder
semi colon her world; her life
she’ll ask if she’ll get through

the cover opens, held in her hands
she begins, unknowing what
paths will be taken
indeed what will be learnt
the synopsis preamble of
what may lie ahead

and will the ending matter
this life is hers she owns
she learns, make errors
two steps back – one forward
she will tread, uncovering
her story will be told
regardless of the words
and perhaps some chapters in
is where she will see
this is the book that had to be

copyright JMTacken 20.4.2014

Forgive me those who read, I haven’t written for a few days, I’m quite exhausted at the moment. This probably doesn’t make much sense, but I wrote it, because it was in my head tonight.

Walls to break (Prose)


I’ve walked streets that carried on for miles

passed bevelled corners, walls strong and sturdy

not bending or allowing entry, so I held my face

to the sky, searching for the spot where happiness blooms

until I sight a single rose reaching out, begging me to stop

and smell the beauty of her fragrant petals, to disregard

the clouds that drop with heavy gloom

the walls that stand strong and sturdy

happiness comes in many forms

from opening up ourselves, for letting go

we aren’t perfect, walls can be broken

others can see in us, what sometimes we cannot

©jmtacken Dec 2013

Photo Credit: http://carolwoodliff.com

Safe Haven


What length of time
causes our
outer shell to harden
skins when born so soft
pile on velvet cushions
cotton wool
day to day survival
forms our crust
hurtful painful moments
we toughen
with each lesson
we teach ourselves
grow up
cloaking tears
self discovery
in our own pain
we grow
we harden
giddy happiness
does not spring to mind
memories of good love
living breathing
darker interludes
forms our crust
the cortex of
to the outside
perhaps not ourselves
this is a monster


Footnote: There is a monster at the end of this.
Perhaps it is a nice monster. One that is cute & cuddly and we don’t have to be afraid of. Maybe it’s nice, like Grover. Or maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s scary or hides under the bed until all the lights are out. Maybe it’s human. Maybe it’s not. All I know is that at the end of this….there is a monster. Is it hairy with big teeth? What does it eat? Me? I hope not, but…
Brian from Dverse has set the challenge.

This is my 1st entry into http://dversepoets.com/. I was prompted to have a peek by the lovely Miriam (as I so enjoy prompts). Critique very welcome  and encouraged as I am relatively new to the Poetry World.

I spew forth words that come into my head

I spew forth words

that come into my head

incongruous to inner thoughts

words that I struggle with

or capable of


shallow perhaps


an abyss

babbling kindred

to a brook

not expressing

that become holes in 

my narrative

I spew forth words that

come into my head


to bear richer fruit

grafted vine upon the vine


cast by trees in the sun


for inspiration an opus


to paint a picture


footprints in the sand

I spew forth

words the come into my head

but I am learning


like fine

raindrops that fall from the sky

before the storm

in my quest

for the compelling

ramblingsfromamum 29.12.2012

Encouraged by Susan L Daniels to whom I am grateful for reaching into myself and how I write.

What more do we want in life?

After a wine or two

Yes I put this as a Category and sometimes I have written after I have imbibed in the demon drink alcoholic beverage.

This evening, yes it is night in my part of the world – its 11.59pm  and ‘my bad’ as I have imbibed.

So forgive me with whatever I manage to type and also forgive any typing errors (though I will do a spell check if I can make sense of the red underlined words) and what springs forth from my brain, for I am not writing consciously  – from the words of someone we all know – ‘for they know not what they do’..in this case I am the ‘they’. Are you confused yet … I am.

EVERYONE has mentioned in one blog or another that Christmas makes them melancholy, think of their life thus far, think of the future..what could have been ..what is to come, or why this time of year makes us reflect on situations more than before.

How overwhelming are our lives? What do we set out to accomplish? We are born..we live…we die, but sometimes this is questioned because we feel there must be something more? Do we appreciated the lives we have?  Are we happy with our mere existence? Should we do more for others than what we perceive is enough?

Let’s face it – none of us want to die. We are happy where we are and to a degree who we are.

BUT do you ever get the ‘there must be something more than this’ thought?

Do we wish to accomplish greater things? Or perhaps we want to leave the world knowing that we have done something spectacular, to be remembered by, to make a difference. Or do we feel like running away?

Is it a matter of I haven’t accomplished a great deal, there are things I need to do, I feel lost, I feel that there has to be more to my life than what I am doing or have done till now.

I think most of my followers are younger than I (or that is the impression I have) and I wonder if they feel as I do now.

I could prattle on till the cows come home (expression) and I wrote this thinking …my life, this is all I have…can I go to my grave knowing that I should have given more..accomplished more.  Is that only for self gratification?

As one gets older as I am doing, these thoughts occur to me more and more. I do not know how much time I have, no one knows, our time on this planet is limited, we cannot turn back the clock.

We are simply beings in a Universe that live our lives day to day, whether we accomplish what we want or are gratified by our mere existence is up to us as individuals.

To make a mark, so that others know you existed ..is that what this post is about? As an example –  writing posts, shall these be remembered in years to come? I think not. I shall be remembered when I am no longer breathing air as a mother, one who tried her utmost to provide, to console, to advise, to love her children. I shall hopefully be remembered by Mr. S and by my family and friends as someone they could rely upon, who brought them laughter, who could write, who was always there for them.

Surely this should be enough? It’s raining outside, through my window I hear the drops hit the pebbles on the ground, it is late,  I am tired and have rambled on enough..Good night to those that have read.