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Natfastic

Updated: Tue, 24 Oct 2017 09:50 pm

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Biography

Hi, my name's Nat. I love to write poetry as a snapshot of what I am feeling or who I am in that moment. I studied English Studies at Uni which included creative writing; and poetry was my specialism. Since then, it has become less about what I think it should be and more about what I want it to be. For me it is about expression. I am a trained Counsellor and have found poetry a release as well as an invaluable tool for self-reflection. Sometimes the poems just write themselves which I always find amazing. I think words are a fantastic source of connection and inspiration and I am always looking for that in other poets. I love it when I hit the jackpot and have a goosebumps moment. Poetry can be magic.

Samples

UNRAVELLING "Like peeling an onion" you said. No. More; unseaming slipped stitches, knotted aims, frayed edges. Hunchbacked, peddling metal over punched pins, threading maydays into cloth. Fingers fumbling at loose seams, unravelling weaves, desperate hems, moth eaten, scrapped themes. Now, all I am is an empty spool, someone's discarded thimble. Rethread. Try the pattern again. I SEE YOU I see you there; hiding behind layers of an icy stare, lurking in the shadows of a wicked wit, peeking from behind your "I don't give a shit". I see you there; shivering, alone and bare. thinking no-one in the world will ever care. But I see you and, I do. TWO TREES BENDING Two trees bending, heads touching brows under starlight, sunrise, sunset, moonlight. Beneath; a pool, swilling softly into peaks of undulating rhythms. And save for swaying, nothing moves. Nothing has to. Sitting on its dewy banks, time dancing on tiptoes, so as not to disturb the hush of sunsets watching silent souls sleeping. RAIN DANCERS The window wide open, I look to the street and listen to raindrops sporadically beat. The splitter and splatter of dancing on slate, the light slowly dimming, the time getting late. They shimmy down drainpipes and glide down the pane, pirouetting off people protected from rain, in waterproof raincoats with hoods fastened tight, like rain is so vicious with deadliest bite. But here in my bedroom I'm cosy and warm, I'm sitting admiring their beautiful form lit up by the street lights they sparkle and shine, tip tapping in sequins, plip plopping in time. TRAFFIC JAM I sat in lines at biting point biting my lip then gave it up put my lip balm and the hand brake on. Staring out I swam away from all-combusting fits of flames I, treading thoughts 'til the tide changed. Then snorting fumes I blew away flew queue jumps flipped bird parades 'til stung by horns I thudded down and sauntered on to meet the day. IT'S HAPPENING It's happening. I didn't think it would to me, I blinkered myself from harsh realities I didn't want to see - plunged myself head long in sands as, unbeknownst to me, those particles beneath my feet were leaking out into some secret ether. When I was young I had a naive notion that all parts were mechanised, like robot cogs spinning bright, defiantly against the clock; reasoned - gilded fragments could not be hurt; metallic chambers simply rot. But here, another family gathering I notice you - more back than forward looking now as, cruelly whipping sheets, you show the truth of how those innards actually are vile; vulnerable and sick like a mad magician unhinging his trick. While left bereft, betrayed, I'm brimming with misguided tears that bust at dams of innocence sweeping currents swilling at gone years; marooning me on rough, ramshackled rafts of memories and laughter jeered and past. Then, lost - you find me, washed up, sand grains later; hold me let the tide lap gently on your chest. And finally we see as one all that is left and find peace in the magic gone. ETHEREAL Bang my limbs on tight taut moons Bleed my drips of sunshine seas Dot to dot my stars to spoons Fire my spinning moon to beams

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

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Comments

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Shirley Smothers

Sat 4th Nov 2017 16:56

Thank you for your comment on my poem ANXIETY. I had a major attack on Thursday night and wrote this poem. Sorry to hear you suffer this also. I would not wish this on an enemy.

Writing poetry helps me with my depression and anxiety.

Thank You
Shirley

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Colin Hill

Tue 18th Apr 2017 20:16

worked for me. You might have to watch an ad first. If not, it was 'Wordy Rappinghood' by Tom Tom Club.
Try this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Vl1m5FYlAo

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Stu Buck

Wed 12th Apr 2017 23:21

hey nat, hope your well
just to let you know my book is now available, heres a link

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1944361588/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1492028836&sr=8-1&keywords=casually+discussing+the+infinite

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Laura Taylor

Tue 11th Apr 2017 16:46

Heya Nat - glad you enjoyed my little ode to perfume-wearing gobshites 😉

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Stu Buck

Mon 10th Apr 2017 00:13

hey nat!
hope your well.
book will be out by the end of the month. i'll mainly be selling it at gigs but it will be on amazon and the publishers website. i'll be getting a batch of author copies as well so if you struggle to find it just message me and i will sort you one out.
and thanks, thats made my day!

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Laura Taylor

Wed 14th Dec 2016 09:23

Hi Nat

Yeh, it is funny you commented that way - but absolutely bang on, eh?

Aye, as I said, I can't think of a greater honour. x

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Fri 9th Dec 2016 20:14

Thanks for reading and commenting on 'I think that children - '. I swear I don't know where thoughts come from sometimes; I just don't. It's as though my brain works on some kind of remote control, constantly sifting and processing the world, events and people. Like I'm simply washing the dishes - and BAM! - the thought is there, fully formed and needing to be written down.

While there seems to be no catalyst, actually I believe there is always a connection, however convoluted. And a little mental sleuthing will usually show the path travelled from sink to pen. I take great care with what I purposefully put into my head, because it is super active all by itself.

I like talking to you. Didn't mean to go on so long.

Cynthia

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Laura Taylor

Wed 7th Dec 2016 13:54

Hi Nat, thank you. A little bit more about Kaleidoscope. It's probably easier if I just c&p my fb post about this...


When you write a poem and send it off into the world, you never know who will read it, or what it might mean to them. Each poem will mean something different to everyone who reads it. That's one of the greatest joys of poetry, for me.

Today, one of my poems has been chosen by a friend, who will read it at the funeral of his beloved wife. They chose it together before she died, because they knew it would mean very many different things to everyone who hears it. In effect, they are spreading the joy of interpretation, through my poem, at her funeral.

I can't think of any greater honour than that, tbh, or any more important use for a poem.


xx

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Wed 9th Nov 2016 12:08

Hi, Natasha,

Thanks for your comments. As for 'targetted words' - that comes with a lot of effort. Most first versions are usually 'acceptable' to me; but I always let them percolate for a period, to filter out the unnecessary words, or to find a better one entirely for any given idea.

I do two things without fail:

1) I make a print-out on paper, to physically handle the words. I don't know why this is so important to me, except that it seems to involve more of my body than just my eyes. This sounds so ridiculous, I can hardly believe I'm saying it.

2) I always read my words out loud, and judge their effectiveness by the ease of speaking them. I do this at different times of the day, in different parts of the house. My mind is never static, and it picks up things I missed before, giving the poem a fresh focus. That's partly the value of the paper: it travels easily.

I don't compose on the keyboard. I think the speed itself is a drawback to real finesse, and the urge to 'send', ie. 'share', is too immediate, and very rarely justified. That said, I'm sure many poets work the keyboard as carefully as I do the pen. But it's not the norm.







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Wolfgar Miere

Tue 1st Nov 2016 22:01

Hello Natasha, many thanks for your like and comment on "November spawned a monster" very much appreciated.

I'm catching up and enjoying reading your work at present,

Thanks again,

David.

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Laura Taylor

Tue 1st Nov 2016 14:13

Helloo! Thanks for y'note on Predator 😃 Well done on POTW! 😃

Preeti Sinha

Sun 30th Aug 2015 13:07

Us girls are tough ;) Lovely to see you back and posting.
And superlative stuff, too.

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Corr Lens

Sat 1st Aug 2015 09:48

thank you for the comment! been enjoying your work. I have a feeling it will occupy the rest of my evenings reading.

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Graham Sherwood

Sun 28th Jun 2015 14:30

Oh! and you seem to have grown a horn since last time too. ;-)

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