Piece by formless piece of me, compose of new desires:
write me back to life before my hope, deterred, retires.
Inflate my heart until it finds itself in soothing flight
and sprout for me the wings I need to beat its rhythm right.

Expand my lungs to fill with life and bleed this void no more;
to breathe ambition in until it seeps from every pore.
Expression filled with written words, my storm to self-empower,
yet, in this silent wash of time I very humbly shower.

Find within my shadows proof of flawless, lustrous light;
elucidate my purpose, forming day from cloudy night.
Write of peace, a balm, to heal my bleakly fractured power –
a vision, rich, to seed and plant, and soon, I hope, to flower.

Inspire my eroding soul with passion to ignite;
a reason to awaken, fresh; a fervour to incite.
Harmonise expression to unlock what I admire;
write me back to life before I, sadly, might expire.


© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 13 June 2016


Stain my fading soul –
I live for your true colours;
my fabric, your weave.


© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 28 February, 2015


The sometimes
of the most of my always
ensnares me
in its often trap
and though by I pass
in silence
I cannot blind
the all seeing knower
that fondles me
with sweet maybe impressions
and tickles my soul
with partial bliss
and otherworldly
here not there
allowable temptations
that only so far
have shaken my distant senses
with semi-translucent delirium
more often than not ever
but much more than
an inexcusable
not quite nearly enough!


© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 22 June, 2011