Poetry 3-13-25

HEART

She is a bore
and a lofty braggart
claiming forever
but following the newest smell
away from her leash

She is tender and full
a bag tensed, to burst
at the slightest slight
heavy with blood and the suffering of want

She is the doorway
to a thousand churches
and the carnal sacrilege
of all good, and wild things

She is latin
for courageous
and holds my breath and my breathlessness
in space between her beats

She is a pauper
always begging
and a selfless saint
giving away all of her compassion in bills
like she could not take it with her

She dances in the kitchen
with a baby on her hip
even when that baby is
long, gone
grown

She lights up like Christmas
and echoes in dark gothic hallways

She shudders and trips
beats steady and sound
she's the only one I can ever claim
is mine
And yet, so often
I still think her,
a stranger
in my chest

We couldn't live without each other.
I hope
whatever the next life brings
I can take her with me.

Poetry 9-26-2024

Y’all, I’m busier than a one-legged lady in an ass kickin’ contest. So, here’s a little rerun. Because, lord knows the Heart is a Terrible driver sometimes. But we still let her take the wheel. After all, what is life for but to be messy and in love?

The Heart is A Terrible Driver

I am the owner of a body in the trunk
the forgotten musty trunk
in recesses of my memory
muffled and tied up
speechless to the ways my heart fell

Hearts do what they do
and mine
she is so big
so eloquent a speaker
so deviously soft and swaying…

she convinced me that
she was the only one
who could drive the beast of me
through life, and it would all
work out

while my brain
sat in the back seat,
shaking her head and looking at me
in the rearview mirror
mouthing the words

You know better
Your gonna hate yourself for letting her drive

Brain was right
Heart took us off a fucking cliff
the first chance she got
giggling with the thrill
the free fall of Love
drunk on its chemical cocktail

all the way down
Brain stayed silent,
arms crossed over her chest
as if to say

nothing I tell you will matter anyway
We were already over your head
the minute you gave her the keys


the carnage at the base of the canyon
was ruinous
the destruction,
complete
Heart took the hardest hit
split down the middle in two ragged
pieces of desiccated meat
devoid of reason, or rhythm

Head pulled her from the car, drug her through
the sharp pebbles and burning metal
shook with disappointment and
carried her to a lesser used path
and I followed complacently
my own wounds stinging

Brain barely spoke,
in all of those tender months-turned-years
up from rock bottom
winding on trails
of drunken malestorms
and pious sobriety
We are a heavy load

Heart sometimes regains consciousness
and clings to the brush, on the side of the trail
striking out with bloody, broken hands
against the pull
trying always trying to get back
to the wreckage
to somehow make it all work out
make that car and joyous ride
run again

Brain cuffs her, hard
Sometimes it’s just easier to knock her out
and keep her from making any decisions
then to try and reason
with her stitched up pieces

from here on out,
my heart must remain bound and gagged,
the body in the trunk

we won’t survive another crash like that

VerseDay

Despite the urge to limerick you with inappropriate words that rhyme with Enis, I’ll attempt to reach for something more high brow… Enjoy!

 

The Heart

 

I spring up from the heart of a wooded path.

The smell of pine needles breaking down, and the crackle of acrid leaves

Feed my roots

The heat rising from Earth, through dirt and granite.

The brush of seeded grasses,

Passing along their generations to my body as I stride on.

The scratch of bark,

The quiet bending of grass

The warning cry of finch and chickadee,

Telling me in no uncertain terms

That I don’t belong.