Nathan Pratyksh

The Mailbox That Forgot My Name

My PoemsMay 29, 202510Views 0Likes 0Comments

There was a time I wore the crown, In mirrored halls of polished brown. Where doors would part with silent grace, And all I met knew well my face. My feet were swift, my steps were known, The sky, it seemed, was mine alone. A thousand voices shaped my days, Yet none could pause the…

Where the Morning Knows My Name

Furry FriendsApril 14, 20254Views 0Likes 0Comments

Some mornings bloom in softened light, With petals spun in pink and white, And park paths hum a quiet tune, Beneath the gaze of waking moon. The breeze is warm, the grasses sway, As springtime gently finds its way— And when I turn a corner bend, Two souls appear, like sudden friends. Bombon, tall, in…

Visions from the Realm of History

My PoemsApril 9, 20255Views 0Likes 0Comments

The forest doesn’t speak in words, It hums through leaves and wings of birds. A rhythm old, a breathing grace, Time folded in this sacred place. Each morning I walk where silence leads, Where roots recall forgotten deeds. Beneath my steps, these winding trails Still echo Lenape songs and tales. The caves lie hidden, dark…

Mystic Trails and Morning Tales: Echoes of a Poet’s Walk

My PoemsMarch 31, 20254Views 0Likes 0Comments

Go-slo, morn-flow, dawn’s sweet chime, I rise, rinse the night from my skin, step in time. Sun-glow, path-go, the day’s bright start, I skip to Inwood with a joyful heart. Coffee warms my hand, a morning tune, I dance to Inwood ‘neath the golden noon. By Veterans Memorial, I pause with cheer, Finishing my brew…

This Too Shall Pass: Through Streets of Glass and Hope

My PoemsMarch 31, 20256Views 0Likes 0Comments

I woke to a world that had lost its stars, Neon suns hummed where lanterns once sparked. The wind, a cruel whisper from centuries past, Like the frost of 1809’s cruel grasp. The streets were rivers of metal and light, Their growls and wails set my horse in fright. Hooves on pavement, a hollow sound,…

The Solitary Song of the Woods

My PoemsFebruary 6, 20256Views 0Likes 0Comments

At dawn, I part with my little one’s smile, A fleeting warmth that lingers awhile. Through city streets, I tread alone, To where the river sings in undertone. The Hudson calls with a silver gleam, Muscota whispers like a distant dream. Through Fort Tryon’s ancient grace, Inwood’s trails, my heart’s embrace. The trees, the benches,…

The Man in the Neon Cage

My PoemsFebruary 6, 20258Views 0Likes 0Comments

He walks the streets, his head held low, A shadow where the neon glows. The watchers wait, the lines are drawn, One wrong step, and he is gone. They may barge through schools with heavy boots, Through halls where young dreams take their roots. His son, just nine, knows naught of fear, He only sees…

The Colt, Colt, and Boulevard of Ire

My PoemsFebruary 6, 20252Views 0Likes 0Comments

Beneath the blood-red evening sky, In 1809, where shadows lie, A lone rider forged of grit and flame, A specter known but without a name. His Colt speaks truths the tongue won’t dare, Its smoky whispers fill the air. An outlaw, a savior, the damned combined, A fractured soul, a fate unkind. Yet in his…

Jiddle & Tim goes Tobogganing

Children StoriesFebruary 10, 20218Views 0Likes 0Comments

Somewhere in the French Alps… A little stream that flowed through the pine woods in summer was now hidden under a thick blanket of soft snow. “Good morning!” said Tim, yawning after a long, cozy nap. “Hey, Jiddle, look! Winter is here! Where are you?” Tim called out excitedly. Just then, there was a loud…