burning
these eyes
fear what I see
– incomplete poetry –
a part of you
unfinished
yet alive
becomes lost again
half written
this frankenesque fate
seals your mystery
locked within
a writer’s typed notes
– and unaware –
I sense you feel
the end
once more
encroaching
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 11 January, 2013
The school girls
with the messiest hair
are my daughters
The ones with the
fallen socks
and the untucked shirts
So concerned are they
with getting there
so they can come home later
That nothing but
Armageddon
can stop them in their tracks
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 11 August, 2011
Barely living,
one’s dance
doth animate;
one’s words,
rhythm providing,
doth speak.
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 22 June, 2011
Standing here
I stood my ground
floating
closer
than the distance
Further
than ‘ahead’ I saw
me
fighting for resistance
Fast
unmoving
– not alone –
with only me
I stayed
Fumbling
– screaming loud –
to hear it:
. . . silence . . .
yet I disobeyed
Cocooned in air and
muffled
by these fitful gulps
I dared not breathe I
marked out time
in vacant space
I owned – yet
not yet: not for me
Thinking hard
I cleared my mind
– illusioned, lost –
yet
memories traced
Would I
(should not) leave
I’d try
The where?
Just ‘some’
to
ANY place
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 30 October, 2007
As I watch
the moon slowly
vanishes
behind the clouds
to appear again
in someone else’s vision
all white and shiny
and virgin.
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 26 May, 2002
We are we.
For the others we shall see.
We are we are they;
her;
he.
She. And she.
We are we.
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | date unknown
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