growth

PERMISSION TO RISE

Am I brave enough yet to emerge,
to escape the regret,
to dismantle,
forget,
to demolish the surge of this
plundering ache,
to curb
and to conquer
and famish the quaking;
this suffering silence;
this violent breath taking.
Am I whole enough yet
to prohibit the shaking,
snaking my flesh with
its mandible gaping,
and I,
an invertebrate
sensing
it
raking
its
claws
like it’s tilling
a field in my pause.

– I AM –

I am soul enough, rousing to roar
– but will this awareness
alone be the door to implore me to forfeit,
renounce,
and withdraw from
this former attachment
to lapse while I stall,
while in fragments
I catch myself falling
before
I submit to this whiplash of
“worth less” and war,

mauling through self-harm,
rejecting my core.

Perhaps in my rapture
my courage will capture
the thrill of detaching,
unlatching,
resolving;
forgiving myself for my lack of evolving;
for dressing tornadoes I’d wade in,
dissolving,
while anchored by nought but
the grief I was holding
by swallowing pain
– almost framing each frame –
as the slower the memories,
the faster they came and the longer they’d last
it would tighten their hold,
and the closer they’d weave they would blindfold
and frighten,
and once I was frozen and broken,
– eyes widened –

they’d leave…

Perhaps fate will gift me
a shift from my history,
to bask in my victory
and mask my past injuries
and race to new mysteries
and questions,
unanswered,
and answers, un-asked
but desperately fancied
as I take on this task
to have finally been caste,
to have grown from my hate,
to have flown past a place
where my purpose was faceless
to race to a moment I have hungered to taste
in a time I had dreamt of
instead of erased –

to a piece of the peace I deserve,
and a truth to embrace.

Will the aching forsake me at last
and the healing re-take me – its journey as vast
as the path it will trace
to re-shape me,
I ask,
and will it profess to regress to
a time I could heave less,
bereaved less, and
survive long enough to emerge
at my boldest and best?

The answer,
is
“yes”.

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 13 April 2018

AS TO THIS HARVEST

As to this harvest:
Your name tills my fertile field
plummeting deep into the earthen core of my heart
turning this silence of organic surrender
into the proud and patient
seedling of enduring
love
.

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 26 April, 2017

AND THEN WE WEREN’T

we were pointless once;
that is to say
we were always in growth
and there was never a time
when what we had would stop
to be what we
‘had’

our map didn’t come with
those flags to pin and say
– this is us –
or
– we are here –
we were the whole map
we were every map
and then we weren’t

now we are no longer pointless;
we are ‘that point’
the marked X
(without the treasure)
the one that simply says
– here –
and my heart is this map
and it is pierced and leaking
and all that it contains
will run like ink
across the world,
our red flag standing on end
and flying alone
to remind me

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 22 April, 2017

OVER AND OUT

Here it comes, another one of your excuses… without a doubt you’ll shower me with a thunderstorm of abuses. I bite my tongue and bleed it out in silence, trying to extinguish the fire this time without further violence.

Leave – just fly! – you’re the pilot I tell myself, the living violet, not the dried potpourri, nor the owner of any karmic debt. You have nothing to repay or repent.  You (I repeat) are in bloom and important, and not to be judged for being lost and distorted.

I cannot stand for being taken (my craft – this vehicle) and internally shriveled up.  I am not that crush you once had, I wish to spew, and I don’t any longer blush from that complicated fad that fed me while I ate of you.

And yet, I refuse to hate you.  I refuse to allow myself to hate that I hate you, drowning, as I know I would, in obsolescence.  I crave independence now like I never have and never expected I could, and although I wish I was not alone, my future looks better, brighter, right… and like it should.

Most, and I’m not nearly most, would crumble as they lose their footing, always two steps back for every one step they refuse to cease on putting down.  I find it sad that most would rather be the clown, instead of simply taking steps to move around and find their way to surer ground.  It takes time to get it right, I’ve heard it said, but there is never endless time to wait, and hope, and beg for answers to delight themselves in light bulbs right inside their very head. I shake my head.

So, I’ll push myself to lose the fear amongst the crowd of filth my ears are forced to hear and then erase. I’ll appear to shake, because without the words, the voice I cannot make will take my mind off the matter here at stake – which is to say, the future of our bonding that I need to break.  And maybe by not speaking you’ll get the message and find the meaning in what I won’t attempt to say, although I’d be straining to keep my voice at bay because the many things I really wish to say would only explode me, implode my tears, and blow you away… So, lest I do you harm, I won’t arm this throat with noise, this tongue with vibration, and I’ll resist the temptation, “Because,” I tell myself… and then I hesitate, exasperated, trying to find the words to state it…

Because not only do you deserve an empty voice, and wordless words, and eyes that speak a language you could never start to read, but you deserve to leave without another part of me to plunder, and beyond that, you deserve nothing more but to forever wonder what I might have done or what I might instead have said: words falling out of me like bullets to be interpreted with that empty understanding in your head, and then, to be swallowed down like pills that fill that void inside your chest. I know you thrive on pain of any kind – and so, to state it simply, in that, I won’t oblige.

I won’t be taken to a place I cannot go.  I won’t be drawn into your game, handing out chances like they’re one and the same because they’re not – and they’ve expired.  I’ve expired.  Every time you lied I knew it was my time to retire from this place of anywhere but my own space.  I knew it was time to reclaim the stolen person I became, and I knew if I didn’t it would hurt, and I knew I’d be maimed… and yet, I allowed it this long all the same.

So, as these thoughts are penned without a sound inside the mind I use to redefine this moment for the final time – and all this while the noise I see you make exits your lips, and every excuse I see you miss and every reason you give that I choose to ignore with a gentle spark of future bliss – I finally realise I do actually see through your pungent purpose.  I see you decommissioned and losing the race with my permission, and I – that is, the person you have never known and never will – I do enjoy this moment of lingering perfectly calm and still.  I’m empowered by the strength of my own peace throughout your shrill.  I have grown because I had fallen out of touch with my own way and my own will and it’s a good thing you came to ruin me, because, without that, I would not have emerged so alive and so gracefully skilled: the wordsmith in me, proud in this moment to be aroused enough to self-compose and finally heal.

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 7th April, 2017

PIECE BY PIECE

 

Bit by bit I’ll build you
until you forget you have no form

Dream by dream I’ll make you
as I pour your cold to warm

I’ll catch you in my blooming petals;
soft, the ground, my arms will be

Piece by piece I’ll fill you
yet, in truth, you’re filling me

Night and day I’ll ripen you
and grow you where you stand

Strong and proud I’ll mould you
while, in truth, it’s by your hand

Time will pass in moments
long in pause, and in-between…

yes…

My thoughts alone might write you
but, in truth, this need writes me

 

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 23 September, 2015

THOUGHT #186

The wings of curiosity soar over distances great.

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 8 June, 2015

THOUGHT #389

Even growth has its moments of separation and surrender.

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 5 September, 2011

THOUGHT #345

Companionship is the medium that evokes growth by the hunger of its very presence.

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 8  July, 2011

INNER LENS

“How far within must one journey before one captures the realisation that one’s fullest potential is already reached; that one’s constant seeking is an expression of one’s true path to self discovery and freedom – a path where presence and growth are characteristics of what may be found within; the inner lens that reflects back a being that one knows better than one knows . . .”

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 17 June, 2011

ANY CHANGE

“When something seems incredibly non-productive, unrelated to your endeavours, and the least desirable of all your actions, that something just might be the change you are seeking, whether or not it seems ideal. All it takes is a moment to accept such possibility and you’ve already changed your path and grown your potential.”

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 20 April, 2011

THE ILLUSION OF SEPARATION

“When one spends copious amounts of energy expelling another from the once near position of attachment in some form, one simply wastes such momentous opportunity to benefit from that link between the two individuals of whom the separation is now being deliberately forced; for the partnership of the two, through the joining of their combined past, is key to the reason for one’s present growth and potential path in one’s own re-mapped future – and no amount of erasure can blind one from the inclusion in another’s history.”

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 5 March, 2011

THOUGHT #54

It’s not from within that one emerges: it’s by emerging that one is truly within.

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 28 December, 2011