in the language of hope
scorching its way with splintered paddles
down to the roughs of my hungry feet
and teaching me
of steadfastness and self-love
through the blanketing challenges of escape

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 28 November, 2017


Your sweet promise
coats me like a varnish,
wrapping my sticky desires
in an airless

Fatally sealed,
this timeless wait in madness,
this paused intent
of craftsmanship

one un-stepped
foot ahead

contains me like a parasite,
and I, far from drowning,
hibernate within;
mirages of possibility,
seeming eons of time

– bereft of touch –

pass me by, imprisoned.

But wide awake alone,
inside this vacuumed husk,
I quench my heart

– reflection –

while my hunger,
still unfed,
provides the popcorn
and the trailers
to the feature film
that scratches at my
and stunted soul.

I wait (believing)

baited and entombed,

for the next civilisation
to un-bury me

and recreate a reason
for my being here
that parallels an excuse
for their own.

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


(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,
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