From Beginning to End

Beginnings are easy to remember,
A look, a touch, a voice in the darkness,
The Moment you know,
And the Moment you act.

Beginnings are like turning on a light,
Inside your soul, inside your mind,
When you know that all before,
Was nothing compared to the moment you're in.

Endings are different,
Because they don't really exist,
We speak of them and determine their moment,
But it's a fools errand.

There is no ending to your story,
Happily ever after,
Or Tragedy eternal,
There is only time, which continues to pass.

There is only that feeling you can't shake off,
That where you are, you don't belong,
And as you wrack your brain,
There is nowhere you can imagine where you will.

You could be surrounded by loved ones,
And feel all alone,
You could stand beneath the stars above,
And only feel empty to your core.

There are no endings in life,
Only beginnings which are a flash of light,
That leaves a burn that never succumbs,
But aches forevermore.

I know not what lies beyond these moments,
Where we breathe in and out,
And go about our duties,
To life, to others, to time which has no foreseeable ending.

But what I know is that in the beginning there is light,
And understanding, and a feeling of belonging,
But the merciful ending never comes,
You simply look back, and see the tracks you have left which will be with you forever.

You pause and wait to see if it dissipates,
But it never does, it is with you always,
So you face ahead, take the next step,
And wait to begin again.

Quincy R Tatum
December 31, 2011

The 30 Inch Step

The 30 Inch Step
That is how I was trained,
left, right, left, right,
left, right, left.

And roll from the heal precisely,
To the toe,
So to be so silent,
That the even wind doesn't hear you coming.

So why do my feet feel so heavy,
On this Winters Eve,
Why does this stride so ingrained,
Seem futile in the gathering dusk.

Perhaps because I am no longer what I was,
When I was trained to march like a ghost,
Perhaps because though my boots are light,
My legs are heavy, like my soul.

Once upon a time when I spoke
I spoke from my heart,
And Once upon a time I did what was right,
Because it was as inseparable from me as my own soul.

But that seems long ago, and far away,
In my memory of myself,
And now those attributes seem to mean nothing,
And all the world is suspicious of such things.

The dusk is gathering outside,
And one thing has not changed,
I still walk as a ghost,
And I have remembered who I once was.

And so now I am caught,
In the space between being that ghost,
And being the man that I should have been
Before I became the man that I have lived as in the recent past.

I am caught because I cannot shake off the ghost,
And I cannot deny the speaking from the heart,
And I cannot deny the man who existed long ago is still here,
From before he became the 30 inch step.

Quincy R Tatum
December 28, 2011

The Adventure

all my life is an adventure,
i go from one to the next,
sometimes intentionally,
sometimes inadvertantly.

i find myself now on a new adventure,
fighting the urge to turn to the last page of the
novel,
to see the ending be it happily ever after,
or broken hearted tragedy

who would have guessed that this adventure would be to find the person i truly am.
and that finding myself would mean finding someone else

so i am taking this new adventure,
perhaps my most important, most crucial
to my happiness and well being,
and to the life i dream of having

and so i sholder my load,
and march unto the breach,
but with hope and joy,
in this worn heart of mine.

Revelations Path

I know where I have been,
And I know the things I have been witness to,

And I know what I am,
And what I am not.

And the path that leads through the dark and untrodden way,
Is the one I have always taken,
For better or worse
Not conciously knowing where it will lead.

Long ago I loved another,
Only for who they were,
Nothing More,
Nothing Less.

And I was loved in return,
Only for who I was,
Nothing More,
Nothing Less.

And as time passed,
And I found love in the arms of others,
There was something different,
Something that didn't match that early love.

Was it those whom I loved,
Who Loved me in Return,
Or was it me,
Had I changed with all that I had seeen and done?

The path seemed to become more difficult to navigate,
The tress closed in above,
The underbrush became tangled,
And fraught with thorns.

But Every now and again,
There would be a break in the trees,
And sunlight would bathe me,
In warmth and hope.

And one day I came clear of the forest path,
And I looked out and saw all the world before me,
But I was still cloaked in Darkness,
And the path split as it crossed the hills and valleys before me.

And one path was rocky and treacherous,
And the other was well worn and would have been easy to traverse,
And being what I am I took the treacherous path,
Though it was sure to present challenges.

So I took the treacherous path, and I often lose my footing,
I often tumble and do myself harm,
But I always regain my feet,
And march on as I always have.

And so this is the path you will find me on,
For Better or Worse,
And I know that along that path somewhere,
Is the someone who understands and will walk it with me.

QRT
December 23, 2011

Solstice

The flame from my lighter is a hot wind in my face,
I take a long drag and let it go,
It is cold here, but not as cold as Korea in '97,
But cold biting through my thin night clothes.

I stare up past the skeletal limbs of the trees ,
Into a darkness filled with stars,
Stars you don't see in town,
They are reserved for the places that are dark themselves.

I wonder to myself,
What am I doing here really,
Just getting along, surviving day by day,
While out there the true me awaits rediscovery.

With Every drag on my cigarette,
I ponder whether to put it out,
And retreat back to the warmth of my quarters,
But I stay because to feel the cold outside  is better than feeling nothing at all inside.

I have stopped trying to see the future,
And though I am always 3 moves ahead,
This Chess Game is already Checkmated,
Against me, I can feel it.

What brings us to these moments,
Love lost, greif, the ticking of a clock that isn't really there,
I stand and find myself as empty as I have been for years,
On a cold solstice night all alone.

Quincy R Tatum
December 22, 2011

The Tale of the Tarnished Knight

Once upon a time there was a young knight, and his armor shone bright in the sun, and when he entered the lists, he always fought for any young woman, who appeared that she needed a champion, no matter what her position in society. He was not the largest knight in the lists, nor was he the most experienced, but he rode and fought with his heart and soul bared open, daring his opponent to strike at his innermost resources. And when he fought this way, he would go undefeated in every contest he entered into, though he often took blows that would have defeated men twice his size. The Knight was neither of great means nor title, but he always did well enough to keep his armor and equipment in the highest quality, and his horse, well fed and cared for, even if he went without, himself.

One day while in the lists he noticed a maiden in the crowd who was lovely but shy, and without a champion, he went to her, for he did not have a squire to do so, and asked if he could champion her during the tournament, she accepted somewhat reluctantly, no knowing the knight, and being from a very conservative family. On that day the knight fought harder and more bravely than he ever had in the past and won the tournament for the young maiden. As he traveled from tournament to tournament he noticed that the young maiden was always there, and when he would see her he always asked to be her champion, and while he was not always the winner of the tournament he always fought well, and the young maiden was pleased with his performance. The Day came that the tournament was in the village where the young Maiden lived and after the tournament she insisted to her parents that the Knight be their guest until he had to move on. The knight was a gracious guest staying many days in the company of the maiden and her family, though her parents were not please with his lack of title or land. One night the maiden came to him, and kissed him softly and lay with him in her night clothes and held him so tight he thought that he should never rise again, but stay in her arms for all the rest of his days. He felt his heart and soul were complete when he was with her, and felt her love for him with every look she laid upon him. They would walk in the forest and though it was frowned upon they would often embrace, and kiss slowly amongst the trees and near the bubbling streams of her father’s estate.

One day a messenger came from the King calling all Knights of the realm to a great crusade across the seas and far away, and so being a Knight of the realm he left his beloved maiden, promising to return to her when the battles were won and the crusade over. And while he took his leave with all the material goods he had, there was a piece of his heart and soul that stayed with his maiden fair. He rode into the distance with her watching from the gates of her father’s estate, a small gift of her love tucked beneath his tunic.

The Voyage to the foreign lands was a long one, and once there many battles were joined and many fiefdoms conquered. In one particularly heated battle the knight lost the gift hi Maiden had given him, and for some time was despondent that he has lost the small trinket, but he fought on knowing his heart and soul belonged to her most of all. After another great battle in which the Knight made a great name for himself in battle, the king and his knights arranged a great feast and ball to make peace with the conquered population. The Knight went to the ball, and there he met a maiden from the conquered kingdom, who was fair, but strong of will, and though not of noble birth held herself with great poise and confidence. And so for an evening the Knight found himself in the arms of a different maiden and all thoughts of his beloved back home were washed away. While it was only a dance at a ball he felt an enormous amount of guilt at hi indiscretion, and though her knew it would break her heart he sent a message to his maiden back home that he could not keep his promise to her and that he hoped she would find someone more worthy than he, to fulfill her life and heart. The Kings armies stayed in the conquered lands for many winter months, and one day in the marketplace the Knight met the maiden from the ball, and he invited her to dine with his cadre and their maidens, to which she accepted, and after many such meetings, one night she came to his bed and he found love in his heart for her, as they shared that most intimate of bonds, and they lay intertwined for many an hour, and he vowed to become all that she needed him to be. And so through the winter and into spring and summer he stayed, even as the King’s armies moved on to conquer more lands beyond.

And so the Knight and his maiden became as a knight and his lady should be, and spent many hours together talking, riding, and sharing each other’s bed as a wife and husband would do. And one day she came to him and said she was with Child, and that he should take her to her home so she could be with her own people, and so the knight did so, and found himself without knightly duties, but stayed with her while she gave birth do a beautiful baby girl, and for a brief moment in time the knight thought that he had finally found his place in the world, and hoped to stay and make a family for himself. But it was not to be, his maidens heart had been captured by another, and though it broke his heart, he once again took up his armor and things and rode to catch up with the kings armies, which were now laying siege to a most wild and  barbarous group of lands.

 When the knight caught up to the Kings armies, he found that he had changed and was no longer so concerned with his honor, or the shine of his armor, but found that he only wished to lose himself in battle, and conquest regardless of the cost. He made war on all that came before him regardless of their station, stature, or ability to defend themselves, no matter what he did his armor did not shine the way it once had, and all he saw on his sword and lance was the blood he had spilt, no matter how many times he cleaned them and had them sharpened and shined by the armorer. He took to killing indiscriminately and taking maidens willing to trade their honor for an evening’s food and pleasure with the Knight who had become cold and hardened, and cared only for his own pleasure.

The Kings Armies had now reached the borderlands which were ruled by a powerful army, and the battles that were fought were brutal and without quarter, the Knight often found his behavior at odds with the honor and dignity that he had once had long ago. After one particularly brutal battle The Knight was left stranded, alone amongst the wounded, as the armies retreated from each other, his mount dead, lance shattered, and his sword dulled he wandered to a nearby village where he collapsed from his wounds and   exhaustion.

When he awoke he found himself in a modest home in a soft bed being tended to by a young maiden watched over sternly by her mother. Though he was wracked with guilt from his actions in the service of the king and his own cold hearted ways, when he looked upon the maiden he saw hope and caring that he had not felt in a long time. As his wounds healed and his strength returned he found himself falling deeply in love with this young maiden, and after a short time they were agreed that he should stay and they should become betrothed to one another. They were married, and over the years though his sword remained sharpened for battle upon their mantle in the modest home that they built for themselves, he became a simpler man, trying to be a good husband to the woman he had fallen in love with, and who had shown him so much love, despite his past. As their lives went on, and she bore him first a beautiful baby girl who was the light of his life, and then later a boy, strong and healthy whom he often took to the forest for a hunt, or just to walk the woods.

 The Knight put away his armor, now tarnished with time and battle, and he no longer looked upon it or his sword with any pleasure or fond remembrance of the battles he had fought, or the triumphs he had achieved in the tournaments so long ago, all he saw was darkness and the burden of his actions in wars which now no one even acknowledged anymore. Over time though they had procured land and farmed for their livelihood, there were good years and there were lean years, but they always made things work as a family. And the Knight became at least content with where his path had taken him. Though there always seemed to be something missing, he buried himself in his work and his family, but more and more often he found himself sitting late into the night by the fire staring at the shined blade of his sword, and only seeing blood upon it. He would wander their modest home watching his children and his wife sleep, unable to rest with the burden of his earlier life, and the feeling that he had lost something on his journey that he could not find and could not regain, the honor and pride that he had felt at being a knight.

One day a group of the king’s men came to their village looking for knights to once again embark on a crusade for the king’s pleasure, though the king had grown old and his lands were expanded beyond what his lords could ever really control. The men came to his house and knowing of his exploits in the past requested that he embark on this new crusade with them. He begged their pardon, and asked that he stay with his family and continue his livelihood, and stay with his family. The king’s men sneered with scorn at him, and implied he was a coward, and no longer fit for even the tournament. Then they went on their way, laughing at his reluctance to enter into battle once again.

After this the Knight fell into a state of great despair, and while he tried not to show it, or his burdens, he sat night after night by the fire staring at his sword, which had once been a mark of honor, and now only gave him grief and shame. His wife though he felt she still loved him became distant, and they spoke to one another about less and less, and though he loved and cared for his children, they could tell there was something not right, and things in the house grew cold, and dark for all of them.

Years past and one day a group of mercenaries, their squires and women came into the town demanding supplies and lodging or else they and their squires would put the village to the torch. The villagers fought back and there was a great skirmish between the mercenaries and the villagers. For the first time in ages the Knight took down his sword and waded into battle, losing himself in the heat of battle he put many a mercenary to the sword, but lost in the dark anger that had consumed him all these years before his wife and children many a squire and a woman fell beneath his blade. When it was over the village streets ran with the blood of the young and the old, and when the night turned to look to his family, he saw that the look in his wife’s eyes had changed, and she no longer looked upon him with love, affection or trust that he would protect her and their children.

While the village buried their dead and tended their wounded, and rebuilt that which had been destroyed the darkness that had filled the Knight’s house grew only deeper, and one day he awoke to find his wife had taken what she could and their children and gone back to her home village many leagues away. And the knight stayed in their home, though it quickly fell into disrepair, and the crops faded away and the livestock all disappeared. And the knight finally went to his chest and took out his armor which had grown tarnished and gray over the years and he donned his old tunic, trousers and boots, and taking what he could to live in the forests he took their last horse and rode from the village.

Sometime went by, and the Knight moved from place to place, he was often thought to be seen on the edge of the villages where his children lived with their mothers, but he never came close, and was always gone before anyone would approach. He   wandered from village to village offering the protection of his sword for the price of a nights lodging and a hot meal. For a time he was taken in by the priest of a local church in exchange for protecting the village from vagrants, thieves, and mercenaries. In the small town he met a woman and they found a short connection to one another, where for one fleeting evening he felt the way he had so many years before, held in the arms of a woman who knew who he was and what he was and still just held him close and kissed him softly, and treated him as a man of honor and dignity, as his fair maiden from the tournaments always had. But in the morning as the village slept, and the woman looked briefly upon him with faded affection, he saddled his horse and rode from the village tears brimming at his eyes and hands shaking at the reins at having touched on the Knight he had been once so long ago, and had lost amongst the darkness and shadow of his path.

Though you are unlikely to find him amongst the wild forests of the land, occasionally you will come upon an inn or pub where you will hear stories of the knight in the tarnished armor, who haunts the woods, and occasionally passes through villages, only at night, and is gone by morning’s light.