the retreating deer
leaves broken hearts
printed in the mud
Tag: hearts
NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 4
a time traveler
must have three hearts
one for the past
one for the present
one for the future
each beats fully
only in the era visited
my ribcage is too small
to contain twelve chambers
and i am going to have
to decide when i will give up
before i break a rib
little seeds (20170304)
the cosmic farmer plants a seed
a small black hole in every sun
some will sprout in that plasma
we plant a seed of darkness too
in every beating human heart
no coincidence that blood is hot
not enough heat, not enough pressure (20170204)
blacken your heart, dear
take those cold ashes
from the hearth, flames dead
like a field mouse in winter
blacken your heart, dear
mix the soot with tears
remember every slight
every gaze that passed over you
blacken your heart, dear
swallow that thick paste
wash it down with past shame
and feel it settle in your stomach
blacken your heart, dear
let that darkness spread
but remember this–not every
piece of coal becomes a diamond
how to make guacamole (20161224)
mash the avocado with a fork
leave some chunks
add lemon juice, salt, garlic
chili to your tolerance
slice an onion in half
while it still lives
in its skin
press your thumb
into a layer below
the dried outer paper
feel the layers separate
your thumb a medium
a wedge dividing
the outside from the inside
you don’t have to remove the skin
yet
just feel that moment
caught between together
and apart
every word
a wedge finding its way
between my layers
each word a manicured thumb
breaking me apart
but leaving me intact
mince well
serve with homemade
chips
no need for repair (20161204)
–it’s broken, you said
i took it from you, turned
it in my hands
wondering if there were
some lathe that could spin true
and steady hands to hold the tools
to reshape your heart
i shrugged and handed
it back to you
–it’ll do as is, i said
eggs (20161026)
if the heart cracks like an egg
will it hard boil like one too
you’ve had enough heartburn to make
centuries of party platters
deviled eggs with fancy star-shaped
piped yolks suspended in tasteless whites
the rubbery texture of the heart
the bitter sulphur taste of the heart
hum a few bars (20160915)
hearts carry no locks
because no keys exist
to open them
doors have locks
and require keys
and pianos have keys
and produce harmony
and harmony is made
into grits
–wait that’s wrong–
we were talking about hearts
but i got distracted
thinking about breakfast
and i’ve never actually
had grits
if i keep talking maybe
you won’t notice how
my rib cage closes in
on my heart
like prison bars
no locks just
bars
Poem 20160318
our hearts
beat out
the same
rhythm
but mistimed
as if i were from
the past
and you are here
in the present
and we see each other
as ghosts see the living
through a veil or a mist
or as if we boarded
the same train
felt the rattle of the rails
at the same crossings
sat in adjacent seats
my hand on the armrest
where you place your hand
me looking out the window
where you lean your head
fogging it with your breath
the same journey
but on different schedules
different timetables
Poem 20151223
a thousand thousand bones
make up the human heart
it takes but a single
hairline fracture
to feel broken
one split bone
is enough to cause sorrow
a snapped bone
weeping
a bone shattered like glass
despair
Words and Feathers 