Natalia GoLeave a comment

I Want to Look At a Piece of Technology Again and Be Filled With Awe

I want to touch a piece of machinery and feel hopeful for the future. 

I want to wake up to new discoveries and not be threatened by the ill intentions of the ones who made them. 

I want to be excited about the progress every new invention could make and not worry about it killing jobs, industries, and people. 

I want to participate in change without having to worry about my demise. 

Or the decline of my intellect and creativity. 

Every day, I wake up to this nightmare of a planet. Most of the world are suffering. The rest are concerned about overfilling their coffers. And I am tied with a chain somewhere in between to tend to my needs. 

How did we get here?

I weep for the dreams of my heroes who saw the world for what it could have become today. 

I grieve the work of the writers who imagined so much more for us and whose ideas we so blatantly ignored. Nay, opposed. Defied. Trashed. 

Where are we going?

I long for the days when we saw promise in a new device. 

We were joyful. We were hopeful. We were inspired. 

We weren’t told to shut up and not question anything new. We weren’t denied the rights to make decisions about what we accepted and rejected. 

We were included.

We evolved. 

8 August 2025

Natalia Go

Natalia GoLeave a comment

I Cast My Wishes to the Timekeepers

When time it comes for us

to read our promises

in front of witnesses,

when we profess our love

with our monograms

to the tune of our march,

the lights on our faces,

though there’d be no clergy, 

no fabric or metal bonds,

your hand in mine

will be the sacred cord,

whispering gratitudes to the stars

and the goddesses of old. 

A rain of silver and white

on our heads

wrapped in the warmth

and vibrance

of every touch afore, hereon.

To behold the fondest to my heart

each step to the hours. 

To be near, around, beside, and behind,

wherever you need me

at any given moment you allow.

I cast my wishes to the timekeepers 

who favored our existence

in the same timelines,

every one of which, I am bound

to find you. 

13 July 2025

Natalia GoLeave a comment

Woman Against Machine. Spirit Against Rot

Natalia Go's poem: Woman Against Machine. Spirit Against Rot

I hear the breaking of a chain

not long from the hour

when gold scratches on feather

and the hand lays its claim on the nib

once more.

Blood trickles into the shape of a flag,

forward and onward to tomorrow. 

Woman against machine. 

Spirit against rot. 

Water rises to a boil atop a cliff

and drips into a shamble of metals

long deformed.

Their soulless voices lost among the clouds—

artless copies fading into the chasm.

Their song the screeching of rusted pipes,

far less artful than parrots’.

And melt 

the long arms of the thieves 

whose spoils belonged to the gardeners,

too busy tending their creations

for so much as a grumble

even as they are robbed. 

Yet the hour comes.

Past a day, a decade, a moment…

it comes

anon. 

Natalia GoLeave a comment

Walls in Paper Clips

The walls gave in that night.
The last paper clips holding them together
fell to pieces
in the ocean where the water
didn’t stay wet after hitting the ground.
Salt turned into sand and metal into dust,
crackling in the heat of the seabed.

There was a roar coming from the waves
up ahead,
but they didn’t land…
wouldn’t land
as they rolled through the empty sea
towards the dam.

Still it poured.
Every drop burnt the flesh at the touch.

She held my hand as we stood
in the acid rain,
tasting the sting in her tongue
as the poison cut through my throat.
She didn’t have to bear it.
I wanted her to seek shelter from my storm.
It came for me.
But she stayed.

There was a beacon by the shore.
Its light was faint.
The light wasn’t light but a reflection
of the worlds I’d conceived in my eyes.
It was there only as long as I was,
and I was fading in the dark.
Those worlds couldn’t live
without the dreams that made them.
And they took them away.

I wanted to run.
But she held me in the middle of the field
until it was safe to walk again,
knowing my entire universe was a war zone
where the gods killed for sport.

It was hours
before I could breathe through my nose again.
Neither of us said the words
but we knew.
It was in the moment
when nothing mattered anymore
and everything was falling apart
that we heard each other’s voices
sans the sounds.
And it would be in the moments—
loud, quiet, and in between,
that we must listen.

Walls in Paper Clips
26 March 2025

Natalia GoLeave a comment

Our Evolution as Lovers of Our Ever-Changing Selves

Love evolves, 

and every day, I find

new ways

to love the new version of you;

new versions of us. 

While cherishing all

the ways we were

and not anymore,

all the things we adopt

and let go about ourselves,

we find ourselves embracing

what we’ve become

together. 

We passed

the previous tests

in flying colors,

even if we didn’t always take

the most ideal path;

we’ve created

solutions 

tailored just for us.

Forget the numbers;

we don’t need to know the odds. 

We have our hands

to guide us

where we want them to land. 

And I will always

find yours in the dark. 

I’ve memorized the places

you take to hiding

when this world becomes

too much.

I know where to wait,

keeping the lamp of faith

lit outside the tunnel. 

Because I know

you’ll come out of it

looking for me

to be by my side

in our evolution as lovers

of our ever-changing selves. 

Our Evolution as Lovers of Our Ever-Changing Selves

27 October 2024

Natalia GoLeave a comment

A Safe Place to Snore

Seven billion people on the planet.

Only I have the privilege 

of hearing your snores up close,

telling me you feel safe 

in my arms.

Nothing else matters 

but your steady breathing,

your arms wrapped around me, 

protecting me from a world

falling apart at the seams. 

And we can sleep together 

all day;

it will still be

the most worthwhile use 

of my time. 

A Safe Place to Snore

26 October 2024

Natalia GoLeave a comment

The Author is Dead

My years flew by so swiftly, yet the journey of getting here seemed long and unfruitful. I feel I tired myself out trying harder than I ought, stretching wide and reaching for glimmer that turned out to be glints of cheap gold. What have I acquired but trinkets and piles of paper filled with dreams that may remain dreams until I fall into the deepest sleep? What do I do with all these words that hardly make a dent in this thick membrane of noise suffocating my world with endless muttering? 

By half the world’s standards, I am young. Yet I feel the strain in my limbs at every turn. I do not wish to be younger. I only wish I could hold on to my senses for longer. Or rather, that they don’t abandon me too soon. I know there are yet some silver threads in the sky, if not gold, to wait for. But I am tired. And I ache from restless hours, and I long for time. Though sometimes I wish for all of it to end sooner. 

But then, I met you in the passage. You’re still here. And I am reminded that I did not get here alone. Suddenly, the cheap glimmer turns into an aurora too beautiful for my eyes that they can’t but sing their gratitude in tears. I am reminded that in the midst of it all, there is kindness. I do not need to fear what I know to be inevitable. 

And these piles of paper didn’t turn out to be meaningless, after all, because you’ve given them the honor of your gaze. The thought of tomorrow exhausts me to no end. But it is of much lighter weight, with your smile hanging at the corner of my eyes. 

If anyone should ask what my mumbling is for, I thank you for taking these words into consideration. They are now in your hands. 

Natalia GoLeave a comment

Tourists in the City of Spirits

We climbed the narrow stairways
to the city of spirits
with the winding alleyways
of little shops and rooms filled with teas.
The sky was blue, but above us
were bright balls of red
lit with gold and yellow lights
that glowed across the roads and spread.
My feet were sore, but up we went
to more flights of stairs,
and on the landing, we were read
our fortunes by some unknown friends.

Familiar tunes played, and all around
were faces we have seen
from stories we have known together
on the big and little screens.
By twilight, we were comforted
by soft, frozen sticky treats
topped with peanuts to the brim;
we were far removed from grim.
And all the little huts were filled
with trinkets, trims, and gems.
We wanted them all in our luggage home,
and take we did and on we roamed.

The moon was peeking at the turn
to the colorful emporium
where music played for weary tourists
who wanted a piece of the magic.
As we picked our last keepsakes,
I saw you smiling with your eyes.
Grief was far, and in my heart,
you brought me right back to the start.
It was quiet on the bus
as we looked out to bid farewell.
And even now, we see it all;
by and by, we’ll heed its call.

Tourists in the City of Spirits
February 24, 2024

Natalia GoLeave a comment

The Colors of the Subatomic Spaces Between Us

I’ve ascertained the exact point
in time
when everything that ever brought
wonder and awe into this world
was in my hands.
The moment
summed up in a sigh;
the nod before I almost
drifted
into dreams,
I saw it.
Your hand in mine,
and the sound of nothing
but our breaths.
All was clear.

The culmination
of all the sweat we’ve sweated
while apart,
in that moment,
I saw how foolish
my fears were.
There is nothing stronger
than the force
that becomes us
if we but stop to recognize it.
The highways come
to a standstill.
The railways bend
and air traffic halts
at the sight of our silhouette.

Don’t fret.
I have seen the inside
of the particles
that convinced us we are matter.
I saw the colors
of the subatomic spaces
between us,
and I guarantee
we are brighter than the stars.
We’re everywhere.
You and I,
we are the universe.
And we will always
find our way
back to that sigh.

The Colors of the Subatomic Spaces Between Us
December 23, 2023

Natalia GoLeave a comment

Every Sweet Return

Sometimes, passion is wrapped

around silence.

And fervor is weaved into the veins

of steady breathing.

There is music in the stillness,

and love

in quiet conversations

about the affairs of the day.

The comings and goings

of the familiar,

and the multitudes

of sighs, grunts, and huffs

about the world outside. 

Broken only

by the divine moments

of little pecks,

an embrace so tight

until the other dozes off. 

Afternoons of nothings

with the beloved

are adventures into the realm

of their thoughts.

We travel through connection,

learning how they want their sheets

draped around their body;

the exact volume

of white noise

that makes them comfortable. 

Merrily, we swim 

into the waters we learn

to call home,

where we drop our anchors

in every sweet return. 

Every Sweet Return

October 26, 2023