Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I got hit with that one trick pony line
Luring my anxiety,
AND insecurity,
To the frontline
Apparently I do mind
My mind will make sure to remind
Ignoring useful comments I find
And not just the kind kind
Too anything positive I'll become blind
A one track mind, singularity defined
Creating new shackles that bind
A self enforced redesign
Leading me to leave a select few talents behind
Choosing thoughts from another's mind to get behind
Because that one guy that one time
Tried to take from me the one thing I liked to give my time
But here's the bottom line,
I've found I rather enjoy expressing in rhyme
Hurt and pain just happen to be most of what I've felt for a long time
So that's what comes out
When I pour my heart out
Into each and every line
Let me apologize in advance for next time

©2024
~dedicated to the heart fixers~

sometimes I smack my head,
when a poem commission is lying on
the ground before me, and I just don’t
hear it, believe it, in order to retrieve it…

many months of physical rehabilitation,
sessions always ended with a certain cutesy
Gen Z~Millenial crossover phraseology:

remember to tell someone you love them

the instructors mostly youngish,
so we senior~smile
a tad dismissively, give them a reward~grin, and
head for the locker room,
where we gossip and compare notes,
on the Part II of our in-process-future-realization,
living a grueling new life of self-preservation, 24/7

the PTs & EPs pound you on the machina, go faster, work harder,
eat better, sleep more, take those meds, motion is lotion,
walk the talk, never be still, but race to live longer and
prosper, this hard work is your new job, and resignation
is non~optional

now, it hits me, via a figurative sharp slap on the side of the head,
triggering an actual physical manifestation that reverbs to the toes,
that the most important lesson went under the radar,
evading the former trader’s dimming vision,
flunking himself on the rehab test paper,
a purple F for fool,
a grade, earned and deserved, and herein poetically preserved

the hardest heart work, begins only after you co-
commence the longest road back to where you once
belonged, but where you can’t walk alone, for therein
a recipe for failure; and the work that needs doing,
is on you; take that tear-repaired heart, and give it away, it,
one can be healed, but not if sealed, for the hard-hearted
walls thicken, and “over  time, the thickened heart muscle
can become too stiff to fill the heart with blood; the heart
can't pump enough blood to meet the body's needs.


so break off pieces of your heart, give them away with
relentless abandon, for this is the heart that self-repairs,
new tissue, new fiber, and most important, regeneration,
the one single reparation that can successfully
accomplish the true miracle of getting by giving,
no forgiving, if you don’t exercise the heart by

remembering to tell someone you love them




dedicated to the hard working staff of the
Cardio Rehabilitation  Unit
of Nyulangonge, Rusk Institute of Rehabilitation
who started  me
with a mighty push on the long road to utilizing my heart properly

<•>
Red, red rose—  
not for sure  
from this ancient Earth.  
Yet it seems so close  
to the eyes, to the heart;  
then there's the thorn—  
you can't touch!

Not sure what  
the nightingale sang,  
yet a heady fragrance  
seems to whisper:  
"Heart, eyes, hands—  
whatever you feel, say freely;  
mine are yours,  
I wish you could see!"
During the silent parts of the day
the heartbeat whispers
to the yearning that lays
the longingness whimpers.

Just a glimpse
Just a sign
for the expecting heart that sinks
that doesn’t see you, then acts fine

In this yearning
love does lie
For the two hearts that are burning
live under the same sky

This distance
these miles apart
as time passes by gets really hard
because only so much away
you can be from your heart.

It's those who burn
in the fire of separation
have come to learn
that in this desperation
true love lies
for the distance means nothing
if the hearts are intertwined.
Copyright Simran Guwalani
I’m home again,
alone,
with the same tragedy
that I used to smile through.
With the same cup of coffee prepared,
yet I’ll never drink it.
I’m home,
strong,
yet lonely,
seeking solace through my silence.
I have no expectations for tonight,
except finding joy
in solitude.
In love with the silent moments
of mine.
I’m home.
There’s no going back to you.
There never was.
Riddled your failures we know.

They said many of you true.
All a lost cause.
Nothing really to love new.

Coddled from mom’s dear powder.
She’ll soon let go.
All do no longer lauder.

O’, what do come time true storm?
Death, fine last show.
Nothing left friend to perform.

How saddened lied child a slave.
Hardened the heart.
Souls suffering left to crave.

Fear not my bitter lost love.
We all depart.
Some wish tears a chest to shove.
Some sent Hell never above.
From not yours truly, the Villain of Villanelles… until we never see each other - again…
Alright, what do we got here.

The victim, had lacerations all over his neck, hands and chest.

He had a long history of depression, family trauma, child abuse.

He isolated himself for a while, despite thinking he was having more friends. It was all just a front for the real thing.

He wasn't happy anymore, he was really trying, but he just couldn't say what was going on.

Who killed him?

Me, I killed him.
We're all guilty
ash
you and me
we are far off on a foreign coast life
you in your black hoodie
me in my good girl clothes
entering our eternal summer
my cheeks blushing from wine
your hands locked on mine
dark nights, crashing waves
your eyes glows like champagnes
inviting me to dive
hot, salty july night
you and me in this greek tavern
moon is high but so are we
dancing, laughing, kissing like we are gypsies
you with your wine, me with my martini
we are drinking but we are drinking each other's sorrow
your orpheic mouth on mine, my limerence is on you
my Anam Cara
all the things you'd do to me in this greek tavern
Next page