Occult Fan

Master no Self

Month: March, 2016



Nathan Miller Foster

Jan 7th, 2012




in the face of candlelight

your lips are kind hills

with widow’s peaks

we both want to clime

like a canvas hammock

between two poplars swing

our ocean view

is a beautiful thing

earlier today

we drank tea

spiked with twenty

year old scotch whisky

the sun is near-set

and you come to me

I sit writing

you show beneath

white silk and lace

from our three month anniversary

if looks matter

you look better tonight

because its the only time

you can be with me

your long lashes make you

the goddess of all hours

the jealous statuette

of all fields of

the most picturesque flowers

with wet springtime fingers

soft as a bed

of lilies and moss

your words speak as silhouettes

a triumph of breathe

like smoke across

the face of the horizon’d

harvest moon

resting on branches

with diamonds

you are the reason


can move


Wolf Skulls

Wolf Skulls


written by and through

Nathan Miller Foster


waiting for a soft-life
when i can wake up with the sun
as a barrier
clear and exploding
on the velvet sands
her shoulders lithe and strong
her tan body and lining
all around my morning vision
want to hear the ocean-smoothing
licking at the bays of thorns
all the wild-rosewood cactus
moaning binary
the codename of the
waiting to wake up there she’s standing
by the window
by the door
half draped in a silken shawl
over the halter top she cast-off her shining flesh in a rippling thunder
the night before
downed the bottle of whiskey burning faster than five million planets in all galaxies exploding
clawed into my back viciously
with impatience and yearning
unforgettable orgasms
rapidly approaching
ran my fingers down her back
up her thighs and all around her
in her
and out of her
and in her
and out
and we fucked in harried passion
to frenzied candlelight
her upper-teeth bit lower-lips
‘til blood spurt past my eyes
her moaning mass of trembling
we fell into the void
and woke a mere four hours later
at the rapturous sun’s
first dawn
the neon sands drew closer
we walked far both and near
she noticed it
i picked it up
into my half-awake hands
a wolf skull
there on the beach
it had been there a
million years
nary a crack
as if it had just been skinned
it was a beacon
it was
a plan


Tie me down and sing your song

Fill an ocean up with stones

Watching for the highest memory

Wistfully upon a cliff

Meadow grass rustles and guides a ship

Its light pours over you from up above

And here in this sweet meadow’s glen

Overlooking Neverland

Spyglass hours whittle lives away

And still we speak in lover’s tongue

Melodies and heartstrings strum

To the tickling humming of dragonflies’ symphonies

And to hear a shimmer of your locks

The venetian eyelids building blocks

Partisan for old moments to fade their way

Into the glad folds of now

For the future’s as well, and how

We made love forever, on those days

Tie me down and sing your song

Gentle fingertips across

My echoing and softly smiling face

And should we fade to another’s glance

If so ever should come that chance

I’d still know to be returning here someday

And would pray to your figure

Traced into flower’s crown

A snow angel in prairie’s dust, and say

‘here is where I laid-in-love’

‘close beneath the sun above’

‘mortal-coil of ivory-doves’

‘her shining face a silver sun’

‘beckoning me to remember’

‘the magic of this very single day’

but for now our hearts beat strong

begging us to become one

so kiss and hug and hold me where we lay

remember that youth won’t last long

so tie me down and sing your song

break my body and spill my soul



By Nathan Lee “Occult Fan” Miller Foster


A note on formatting – this is meant to be in block form without

spaces – as it is… Written January the Eighth Twenty Twelve.