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Poem by Natasha Head



We are satellites
Spinning dangerously
Throughout this unending universe

Simple stardust
Caught in mason jars
Shaken with poison tonic

Toxic elixirs
A suicide syringe
Injected like homing beacons

Magnetic & addictive
We chomp at our own tails
Preying to false gods

That one day we’ll collide.
Our annihilation complete
When we drink each other whole


"Within" © Stacy Esch
“Within” © Stacy Esch


Natasha Head is the author of the Pushcart Prize nominated collection Nothing Left to Lose and Pulse with her third release slated for summer 2014. Her work has appeared at The Academy of American Poets and she is an associate member of The League of Canadian Poets. Natasha resides in Northern Alberta, Canada. Follow her at her website.

Stacy Esch lives and works in West Chester, Pennsylvania, teaching English at West Chester University. Digital art and photography are the twin passions that compete alongside her interest in writing, reading, songwriting, and gardening. She has previously published work at Turkshead Review and wordriver literary review. She is currently selling a calendar through Spruce Alley Press.


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Two Poems by Natasha Head


A little girl,
Dressed in her finest,
Stands alone against the brick wall
Children surround her,
But none reach out.
Her Charlie Brown lunchbox
Bangs against her belly
As she watches them play,
Friends from before.
She is happy to watch,
Years later
She will have no memory
Of this day.
Still, it will find itself implanted
Through the voice of a mother
Who speaks of fear and tears,
Driving by the school yard
To see if she can see her little one.
She learns that friends are important.
She learns that if she can have enough
They won’t pay as close attention.
She makes it her mission.
She doesn’t want her mom to cry.


Photography © Shabunawaz
Photography © Shabunawaz



Did my shadow darken your doorway
as you slept with one eye open?
Your little brain, pitter-pattering its way
through to dawn
when relief comes in having to face
only what you can see.
Sleeping below a rainbow
serves only those who refuse to dance
to the joy of the spectrum
the beat of a different realm.
You’ve paused so long at yesterday
the roots now ensnare my feet.
Straight up always
put prone to changing minds
My god wears a coat of many colors
to hide her perfect form.
It only goes to prove
in her image I have failed.
Goodness bleeds as does the bad
but its flow is smoother
allowing me to sleep at night…
provided my imagination agrees to not run away
for it is my dictator
and I am prone to fancy.
I’ve been told countless times
I’ve outgrown the need for fairies
yet I refuse to accept conditions
acceptable to most.
doomed to swim in rainbow rain
I face most my storms alone
for I’ve not the words
nor the magic
to make the blind see.


Natasha Head is the author of the Pushcart Prize nominated collection Nothing Left to Lose and Pulse, a unique, fictional narrative explored through the art of poetry. The poems presented here will be made available in her upcoming collection, Birthing Inadequacy Natasha resides in High Level, Alberta, Canada where she has been penning poetry under the Northern Lights, but will always consider the east coast her home.