courage

UNKNOWN

She was not brave,
                                        she was necessary.

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 27 October 2019

LAPSE

She recovered her heart
with yesterday sighs

and only her tomorrow smile
knew enough about courage
to forgive the delay

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 10 October, 2019

IT’S OVER

let it go
because breathing
is more important
than not

holding tight is for arms
not lungs

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 23 April, 2017

THOUGHT #203

Having no courage is a perfect reason to lead the search to find it.

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 7 September, 2012

ABSTRUSITY

(meaning: wisdom that is incomprehensible to one of ordinary understanding or knowledge)

Alone, let me dissolve into the stale persistence of repeated memory, where,
to sink, into that moment, long at last, I will;
to time that stained my white and holy life like thick excreted waste,
as lost among the black apostles, self detest infection festered.
My soul did roast my psyche.

Let me watch through wiser eyes as I was suckled dry by rogues and devilled men who
fed me lies and praised degraded hopes in tight knit bondage ropes and
prayed their symbiotic futures whole;
their shackled lives, encased by squalid dwellings, raped to empty, burnt to coals. Then,

let me fear again the death I cheated, let me shy away again from light and love,
as once I did,
and let the drugs inspire hunger, let my ribs admonish friendships;
show me seated on the sharpened iron throne that clawed its way into my life.

Let me remember courage, this, when biting clean the straps
that bent my arms behind my back,
that tied my feet without allowing slack, that stole my mind, that seared my life,
that scarred my flesh and sent me running, set me free at last
from final unforgiving seas that tempted me with futile guarantee
to nurture, care and carry me.

Let me, lastly, naked, stand in stark surrender, found by precious realisation.
Finally human once again! Majestic once again! While
chains of brutal, rusty, rotted steel detach,
and I begin to heal; to patch at last, my puzzled life that, muzzled,
once,
I hanged among
such sordid ruin.
Now a sequined future wheel rotates as I transition
from a past so art surreal,
so damn unreal,
and yet, a history, sad, but passed, that’s mine, alone to boldly feel.

 

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 29 July, 2004