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Nat Jan 3
Neither sleet nor snow nor filigree
The desert is ever brusque
Cloudless and cold, an empty gray sea
Hollowed and hid, December's decree
I wake and see the dusk
Nat Jan 3
I as much as the next but no more than all before
From the ground the ground again
Pattern break pattern break pattern
Break pattern break pattern break
Again the ground from the ground
All before no more than the next but as much as I
Nat Dec 2021
Stifled existence
Limpness in my veins
In all things reticence
At least I'm free of any stains

Silent build-up in my throat
Semi-solid chunks of liquid fear
Worry what sickness might denote
Perhaps it's best I disappear

Better hope ***** is symbolic
Because now I have to go
And so, of me, my stomach's *******
Is all you'll ever know
Anxiety - coming soon to a dank river valley near you!
Nat Dec 2021
Every castle turns to sand
Every form and all the land
And it's all been sand before
Gracing some alien shore
But what I find sublime
What isn't bound by time
What dies as it is wrought
Moments made up of thought
Nat Oct 2021
In nothing but a string of letters and words I'll make you feel something
It might not be great but it'll be something, it's got to be - something new, something novel
But it won't be sad. We all know what sadness is
It won't be happy or beautiful or even ugly because that's all old hat
No funky formatting, or perspective shifts, no careful pronouns
It won't have images or anything
Just words
Objective words with meanings older than the earth,
And no one will ever misunderstand just what I meant when I wrote it
And no one will ever have experienced anything quite like it before
And it'll make someone, somewhere, just once think:
"Whoa, this poetry stuff can be as spiritual as music"

I'll write something like that Someday, I think
Nat Oct 2021
If these webpages could talk
They did it a decade ago

These ancient posts jut up
Rotting like titan bones
Every comment another grave
Born and dead the same day

Our ancestors built this place
Nine years ago
They blew away one by one
But for a few huddled remainders

The words are relics
A rome and its ruins
Echoes and ghosts, lingering
As the forum quietly fades
That feeling you get when you stumble upon (or, worse yet, revisit) a once thriving website or fandom, and see how it has dwindled down to nothing over the years.
Nat Oct 2021
Are you reading me?
Are you
Out there
Somewhere?

And can I
Be there too?
Am I more sick of me
Than scared of you?
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