the heart is a room
full of windows
walls made of brass
you sigh
and your sigh is
a tuning fork
pitched to break glass
to bend metal
do the shattered panes
let in light
or only blood
Tag: heart
Poem 20160408
herald–
her damaged heart,
unfurled wings yet to fly,
lightning rampant upon a field,
verdant
——
Poem 20160213
you have it
my heart
a prickly thing
covered in spines
needle sharp bones
that took years to emerge
and many more yet to soften
all to protect
sweet, refreshing, vulnerable
flesh
you have it
and you take it into your hands
you don’t ignore the jabs
or the drops of blood
you can’t
–they hurt too much–
but you hold it to you anyway
Poem 20160127
silence steals
between all our words
–like a sponge
it expands
filling up the space between
what we say and don’t
quieting even
the slow sounds of our breathing
–where to rest our eyes
our lives are made of silence
we don’t look at each other
our hearts drum drum drum
beating beneath the silence
a silent rhythm
—–
(shadorma, tanka, haiku)
Poem 20151105
the heart is a piece of meat
i know
because i saw
my mother
pull the innards out of turkeys
at thanksgiving
she salted and peppered them
along with some squishy red
organs
and fried them in a saucepan
then cut them into bits
and used them to make
gravy
and when we poured it over
mashed potatoes
stuffing
rolls
and roasted turkey meat
you could see the bits
and pieces
of that heart
and the thought never occurred
to be grateful for the heart
and no one asked
–what had the turkey loved
that had that made the heart
sufficient?
Poem 20151001
he said
over a cup of coffee
i’m buried alive
in my own heart
i offered sugar
cream
but he waved them both
away
preferring it black
and hot
and bitter
not that i mind
he continued
it’s my heart
i found my way in
–why would i want to
to find my way out?
Poem 20150918
Friday Haiku, in honor of summer winding down
—
the summer sky blue
wind waving dappled green leaves
and my pounding heart
Poem 20150711
the lump is solid and dead and wet
when you unsack it
you don’t even pull it out
just let it slide out on its own
gravity does the dirty work
you just guide with with your hands
watch it impale itself on a wooden stake
not that it has a heart
not yet
and you hear it separate from its skin
which you reserve
the peeling off of skin
the baring of red flesh not yet alive
after all, this is eden
you haven’t breathed life into it
not yet
as you take it apart
cutting with wire and knives and fingers
you save the pieces for later
keeping the bits in the old skin
keeping them wet because when they dry,
they are useless shards
Poem 20150702
bury the heart
hide it deep in the earth
hope that it will sprout roots
that seek out water
hope that it will swell
and send up shoots
that break through the soil
that unfurl leaves
that produce blossoms
that turn into fruit
that turn into hearts
Poem 20150619
the slow insistent beating of the heart
not unlike the old man’s
in that story by poe
so loud that it could be heard
through floorboards
and walls
never mind a ribcage
and half an inch of flesh
that slow insistent beating
in my own chest
reminds me that i am alive
and that i have to go for a hike
in the morning
and shopping the next day
and work the day after that
every day the beating of the heart
ba-dum
a calendar
ba-dum
a clock
ba-dum
an hourglass that never runs the sand up
ba-dum
a waterwheel that only turns in one direction
to turn the mill
to grind my bones
to make your bread
Words and Feathers 