Nat Lipstadt

Nat Lipstadt 11h

my
shames,
hidden desires,
drafts-of poems burned
to ashes, tho kept, in case of
a premature ejXXX, an early
messianic resurrection

a father's watch. cufflinks,
a tie clip, just in case I ever
again have need to
wear a Burgundy red tie,
a draft card so old, its only
purpose is to make them laugh
when they card me in Las Vegas
though my whitened pupils and
and decrepit walking cane, are
good indications,
i'm right up there with Methuselah. nml

10-3-25

#in #my #belongings #nml #nat #lipstadt

Nat Lipstadt 1d

note to Eliot:

so many good people greater
together

that's a hell of a resume…

thanks, we owe you…

p.s. please don't let us wither away…

natlips1@gmail.com

Nat Lipstadt 2d

JUST IN CASE: one last look before we have to bid each other a goodbye, for reasons, before a sigh of 'if only!" (natlips1@gmail.com)

JUST IN CASE: one last look before we have to bid each other
a goodbye, for reasons before a sigh (natlips1@gmail.com)

if in the future
some way how
a need presents,
and an exchange
of words needs
campfire igniting,
reach me at

natlips1@gmail.com
(save it, now)

let us
assess our
combinatorial
progress;

let us determine If
we enhance each
other, in ways not
superficial

let us trade,
words, photos,
sensitivities,
the inner~est-mostus
of our intimates,
directly

if it be,
that we
dare share,
now you know how to find me…

but be prepared,
this forest boundary,
is porous and precious,
even precarious,
and yet,
with kindness we
can breach our
human, individualized
isolas (islands)

this~rope-bridge
a work in progress,
let us make it into a
superstructure
stronger than,
well respected,
for I give you my
privacy,
you,
yours

be ever cognizant,
be ever aware, that is
for kindness, and not
armament, internecine
arguments interfering.
not for
battlements,
for that we don't
lose each other's
privilege,

leaving waste to
good intent

p.s.
<nml>
with full disclosure
of our realities, and guises
familiar, so we come
full readied, prepared,
to give it all up…

"You keep me wrapped around your finger
Wrapped around your finger
I was caught up in your orbit
Spinnin' like a bullet (spinnin' like a bullet)
I was wrapped around your finger
Wrapped around your finger
Then I shot back down to Earth
(shot back down to Earth)

The Police

2d

Shambhavi Sahay

A GIRL IN THE MIRROR HATES ME!!

I have my biggest enemy,
living in the mirror,
her eyes looks at me with disgust,
whispering poison into my bones.

She starved me with her demands,
shaped me with her lies,
painted over my scars
as if hiding me could please her.

She made me wear pointy heels.
Even when my back cried.
Just to fit the beauty standards,
She even turned my beautiful curls to frizzy straight.

No matter how I bent,
how I changed, how I tried,
she never smiled.
She always made me insecure.

We got into a huge fight
And I ended up hating her...

#mirror #beautystandards #insecurities

Nat Lipstadt 3d

tapping trees to collect the sap

'The process of extracting maple syrup is generally called maple sugaring or simply sugaring. This process involves tapping the trees to collect the sap, and then evaporating the water from the sap in a process called boiling until it thickens into syrup."

kinda like writing it,
it,
poetry

and been up for hours and every notion
bidden and unbidden
become a maddening drip
of syrup,
a challenge to catch and release
every stray dog thought
becomes me

and the internal query of
anybody with just half a brain,
is, course,
will I ever get tapped out?

can't see it,
can't feel it,
the sap I am^
is the sap in me,
colored by
5786 years of
genetic mystery

and every time that haunting notion that occurs
oft near, around and on my date of birth^^
what if the poetry ceases?

sunders me,
&whip the yellow legal pad out,
list and listen to a recital of
my pros and cons,
and despite my very bad selfish judgement

I,
start
all over again

will I ever be tapped out?

Sure!
when all the water in my body,
evaporates

nml>
5:17am Mon Oct 6 20-25

A play on the word SAP,
and its contradictory meanings

^^
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/882855/yesterday-was-my-birthday-what-if-the-poetry-ceases/

#tapping #trees #sap #out #nml #nat #lipstadt

3d

Shay Caroline Simmons

Post Card

I wonder if this is normal?
If you were here, you would not care that the sheets were plain.
You would hold up your finger,
gently, testing me for concussion
and you would find me to be the same as I ever was--

unable to name the date, the address of this hotel,
or the President of the United States, but I never could anyway.
Oh, love of my heart,
he can't close such unhurried lips around that finger--
let alone each one in turn as the windows turn coral, then azure.

Where did you go?
I must have fallen asleep, and when I was awakened
by the hotel doctor and the day shift desk clerk,
you had gone. "Who?" they ask. "Who?'
Beautiful One, I can't remember your name--forgive me!
But I remember your bare hip, the rise and dip that God Herself envies.

I was made to leave the hotel, and the emergency room as well.
I bought a post card with a dollar I found nested in mud
beside a building in an unfamiliar neighborhood.
My hand, the one you held, the one you kissed and guided
between your legs as you spoke my name,

stopped, palsied, when I tried to address the card for you.
Where do you live? What is the name of the street
where you watch, every morning, the windows turning coral, then saffron?
How much postage will carry my heart to you, immediately?
Why can't I remember anything, darling, except that moment when I was happy,

as you stretched out, soft-skinned on top of me
and I knew everything, and nothing, and loved you so much?

2016