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  • © 2013 Sigman Shapiro All Rights Reserved

Natalie Webster

Originally posted May 31, 2011

Introducing Natalie Webster

Once again we have the opportunity to introduce a new and compelling voice.  Natalie Webster is the latest poet to share her work with all of us.

Natalie Webster’s soul and memories reside in a few of the many places she has lived, including Santa Cruz and Berkeley, CA and Mexico’s expansive culture driven capital. 

Today, she prepares for the next phase of her life: graduate study in Social Work focusing on helping children find hope, healing and loving homes.  Her art and her writing serve as one medium by which she has been led to this path. 

Natalie’s written work centers around defining states of being and the immense ability for catharsis through the creative expression of human affliction.

I know you will enjoy these examples of her words. 

Pulse 

      of the child who smiles.
she waves and she coos
a song she learned from
a universe that she’s known
but hasn’t met.

     of waking before sunrise
stepping softly upon the creaking
hardwood and the warmth of that
which is held within what once
was living.

      of callous concrete. 
pillars of industrious progress,
skyscrapingly stark ingenuity.
the essence of a harsh Dream
and the masses who carry its burden.

     of the absence of
your eyes on my skin…
a longing for
the slow wait of your hand
in the hesitation before
you rest upon my fingers.

[Untitled]

I was soft

and didn’t realize this
could be so sour:

the bottle turned
the tannins fierce
the flaws upon my tongue.

Fortitude upon the floor
like the purple laces
that you loved so much

the shadow of a once delicate touch.

Each night, I’m ripping
and clawing at dreams
that haven’t seemed hardly mine

but they were–and they are–

and from them I cannot run.

This morning,
with its absence of color
and abundance of cold,

saturates my spine with an inability
to disappear in
on myself, amongst the mollusks seeking
something that has long since
withered in the damp underbrush
of city alleyways:

where the landscape was forgotten
and the pavements shift sharply from themselves
and the sun hasn’t shone

since no one quite remembers when.

© 2011Natalie WebsterAll Rights Reserved

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