Poems by Natasha Head / poetry


The crowd chants

oblivious to their drunken stupor

the name on their tongues meaningless

as they bow to worship through double vision

a mad Medusa siren

whose melody melts the stone


All access pass

as mates meander and philander

She loses herself to the darkness

reaching beyond her name falling

from forked tongues

They never respect her the morning after


But he does

waiting in the shadows

no desire to show her off

nor steal her stage

The only one to ever reach beyond

the Medusa glare.


They wonder where she disappears to

between set-lists and sound checks

Urban legend dictates she is ruled by substance

But it is he who waits in the shadows

who owns the moments they do not.


2 thoughts on “Idolized

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