Here I come

the soul is the core
sometimes thrown away
only to flourish instead of decay
to grow from the earth, the source, and the shade
the sun and straight time…
a life in a day

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love poem two

Something about her lips and her eyes

Trade up no more, nor compromise

The beauty stands tall, the trees feed moths

Those lips and eyes, you’ll forget her thighs

The emotion proposed insightful lips

Their form, their poise, a soundless noise

Her tits and cheeks become mere toys

She sends the wind, she resurrects boys

Einstein wrote and Solomon felt

Her lips and skin are priceless pelt

I’d beg her now and tomorrow to come

This ain’t no hunt to get me some

I’ll come for me and do for her

A life time gives but little more

And oceans spray and feed thanksgiving

I remember her lips and thus I’m living

Moved like earth, her eyes gave birth

And with no reason I always see them

In my dreams and midday trances

My soul is mine, and at it she glances!

 

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a funny kind of yellow

My love is undying
You open your eyes and I’m crying
The resolution is uttering clear
Help me out of the mountain ruby dear
Existence is but an illusion
The next plane causes no confusion
The truth it never seems distant
Love is only love when it’s consistant
Resist no evil, don’t compromise
It’s only for you that I have eyes
Open… it’s written
I’ll only talk when it’s commitment
Thunder and stone, water is moving
It’s your mind that’ll find me soothing
The ocean speaks
An open mouth my eyes roll back for weeks
She’s got soul, that’s no quick fix
I won’t play no games but I’ll pick up sticks
Pitter patter in the willow leaves
The song changes but it never leaves
I can’t hope for the autumn blossom
I’ll pay the price no matter what it’s costin’
Are you the flower for which I’ve
waited much more than an hour?

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five o’clock at the smoke shop.

Just a note.


transcription:

carolyn, you are the best
you are the sweetest girl I know
how can I stand up to what you know
there aren’t clothes to get me fancy (?) to the way I dress
you are the best
can’t you find a minute to show me your light
what are you doing tonight
and when you diminish my thoughts
and pull me away from the haves
and the have-nots
it’s you that’s got me tied up in knots
peace and love,
nate dog

G. Love tomorrow
5:00 at the smoke shop
I need to bring my congas.

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addiction

Nate defines it.

Pretty right on, huh?

On another note, the green grammar check line just cracks me up. So typical of Nate. No doubt, he perfected the art of the run-on sentence. In fact, the essay that he wrote for his college application did not contain one single period, comma or capital letter in the entire thing. Ha! Oh, man. Incredible wordsmith and smart as a whip (and coincidentally a straight A student), just couldn’t punctuate a sentence for anything.

Ok, not the point at all of this post, but I think the rest speaks for itself. So…

Actually, I do find it interesting that he specifies alcohol addiction as opposed to just addiction. But I’ll keep my thoughts on that to myself, I suppose.

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love poem number one

So Nate used to write these poems and place them in various places around the house…on my pillow, sitting on my desk, or nailed (lol) to the door at the top of the stairs. I have a whole box of these that I never went back and read again until now.

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human osmosis

About 4 or 5 years ago, Nate wanted to start documenting his poetry electronically so that he could print them out and what have you… but he was going to need a “little help with the computer”. So I hooked him up, got him going in Word, and told him to let me know when he was ready to save the file, I’d help him with all that then. So I leave the room and hear nothing for a while.

Then a good 10 minutes later…

“MITZ!!!!!!!!!”  (you would have thought he cut his damn finger off)
“Yeah?”
“Come heyah”
“Whatchya need?”
“I need HELP!!!!!” (still yelling)

(I walk in…
he looks at me, very calm…) “How do I get down to the next line?”

 

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poem number two

“guys with boots and perfumed karmas” …love this one!

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So, here it goes.

45 years of Nate’s poetry packaged up into one teeny tiny little web site. Most are from the past 10 years, but I also have some really old stuff that I found recently. Some of them may need to be transcribblized, so I’ll do that below.

Nate always told me that if anything ever happened to him, he wanted me to share his poetry with the world. So here’s poem number one. I don’t know what else to say except that now I feel a little sick to my stomach.

(Click on image to enlarge)

(Transcription)
Piano keys are petals
And the memory plays
The wind in the autumn
Reminisce those summer days
And the cold depression of February
Douses the summer sun’s blaze
Motivation is on the horizon
Of this endless hell
But you’ve dulled your senses
It’s only this hell you smell
And when the robin flies
The promise exists, but not in your eyes
You carry the burden of depressive lows
And those manic highs
And high is low
As low pulls down even harder
Your black wrath is ever poetic
Just evil and negative the same
The strings…still, and vibrating
Play the song of solemn pain
Again and again and again

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