Poetry & Prose by Tanya Miranda

Friday, July 26, 2019

Long Forgotten

Long forgotten are the days when...

Tickling was the best thing ever,
And laughing made you spit up your food,
And pillow fights were eminent before bedtime,
And puppies and kittens ruled the world,
And Mom and Dad were the strongest of superheroes,
And your little brother was your partner in crime,
And dolls and make-believe were the crazy,
And you sang at the top of your lungs without a care in the world,
And danced wildly without coordination,
And played instruments without a tune,
And you lifted your head upwards to look at me,
And my hug was the only one that could comfort you,
And my kisses were like gold,
And I held your hand to cross the street,
And I bandaged up your scraped knees,
And you wanted to be a movie star or chef or dancer or lawyer or pianist...
And rainbow colored socks were vital,
And so were pink and purple winter hats,
And playing zombie makeup was Dad's thing,
And softball and sports was mine,
And we all played board games together at night,
And we would go on long walks to get ice cream,

I haven't forgotten a single day.

Thursday, July 4, 2019


Your smile hides what is aching inside of you, but you can't hide it from me. Your generosity, your forgiving nature, your acts of kindness hide the gaping hole left in your heart. Even if those suffering around you don't notice your suffering -- because you tend to them, console them, help them with their grieving -- I notice your pain. I see your grief, your anguish, and how you smile to hold it all in, to protect us from it, to keep your heart from imploding.

Your laughter shines brightly, until a melody of your youth plays on the radio and your mind drifts off onto uncontrollable waves of melancholy. You recall silly childhood moments, planned schemes against your parents, and fights that led to broken furniture, spilled food, and being grounded for a month. He was the only person who accepted you as you were, your imperfections, your ugliness, your rawness -- without question -- and he is gone. He was your witness, your defense, your alibi in all your childhood claims. You have no one to reference now, only your own memory, which will slowly, eventually, abandon you too, leaving you alone with doubt at your side.

Your breath shakes whenever you speak of him, and the glimmer in your eyes dull just enough that I notice. Your stomach sinks when you realize that it's not your morbid imagination concocting these facts -- it's all too real. He is gone from this world, and you will never be able to hear his infectious laughter, or hear his Army war stories, or argue about who was the favorite child. Your eyes turn to the side and you stare off into the distance, and you wonder what could have been -- what should have been -- reiterating questions that do nothing more but reopen deep scars on your heart.

But I see you. I see your pain, even when no one else does.

You are not alone.

I am with you.

Thursday, June 27, 2019


If you allow it,
Will cloud your attitude,
Block out the sunshine in your day
And the moonlight in your night.

If you permit it,
Will ruin your friendships,
Break apart family ties,
And push you to a dark and desolate place.

If you give it access,
Will feed upon your frustrations,
Devour what little happiness you have left,
And leave you depressed and alone.

If you try,
Can be overcome.
Be thankful for the sun, the moon, friends, family, life,
Accept them as they are,
And your anger will die.

Monday, May 20, 2019

A Lone Journey

I walk alone
Down this desolate road
In the middle of a lightning storm.

You call out my name,
Playfully, with a chuckle,
Telling me to run, to have fun, to play.

But thunder roars, muffling your voice,
And a streak across the sky
Shines upon the long, empty road ahead.

The black pavement stretches for miles
Until it shrinks into nothingness,
Disappearing into the horizon.

When the thunder fades
I hear your infectious giggle,
And you ask me why I don't laugh anymore.

You tell me a joke that only we know.
I smile for a moment, and the clouds part,
Granting me respite with the moon's warm glow.

I see twinkling stars.
I hear silence.
I feel peace.


Sharp winds creep in, scraping my cheeks.
Thunder rolls once more.
Thick, black clouds swallow up the moon and stars.

Lightning bolts streak across the night sky,
Pellets of frozen rain pound the earth.
I crouch low to the ground to protect myself.

The storm hovers so close to my soul -
I close my eyes, cover my ears,
And wait for the end.


Then... I hear your voice
Assuring me that the storm will end
And the moon and stars will shine again.

You shout at me in your commanding tone,
To move forward and never stop,
To withstand the storm's fury.

And to laugh, damn it!
For you.
For myself.


I stand up and wipe my tears
And look up at the clear blue sky
And smile as if you can still see me.

I hear your infectious laughter once more -
And I chuckle with you
As I continue my journey, alone.

Monday, May 6, 2019

Differences & Similarities

Wherever you are born...
That is not your origin.
We are all from somewhere else.
From a long line of people long gone.

I have yet to meet someone
Who can trace their lineage
To only one country,
One race, or one religion.

But the more we advance in years,
The more we divide
And identify with our differences.
Instead, why not focus on our similarities?

Such as... how we are all from elsewhere,
Of other people of other eras,
Of other parts of the world,
Of other religions.

Mixes between lifestyles, 
Across country borders,
Language barriers,
And conflicting beliefs.

Until we accept our similarities
For what they are,
We will always be at war.

And we will miss out on 
Our potential love,
Our pure friendships,
And peace.