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~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

<•>
Jeremy Betts Apr 17
Everyone thinks,
"It'll get easier when I get older"
Then you get older
And you find no one's there,
No one to share,
No one to say,
"Hey,
I stay because I care"
Or
"Let's get through this together"
Making it harder than ever before
Not wanting to remember
Not even a single chapter
Though at one point,
When I was younger,
I think I use to matter

©2024
Mark Wanless Feb 28
oh the little fists
happened again this time she
tried so hard to not
Jeremy Betts Jan 30
My thoughts
They can get scary
It's threats, more often than not, not empty
It's hard to convey what they say
They whisper a fray of cliche self hate with 41 years to work it's way to this level of decay
It's all consuming, engulfing then removing positivity 'til it's so scarce I'm left to pretend mostly
A sparse landscape of depravity naturally
Clear cut to make way for the fear factory
The soul fractures, now solely fear so to ward off lonely I let it stay
Not knowing how to play
Leaves me in the dark on what's at play

My thoughts
They aren't worth a penny
My two cents is free
I'd pay you to take them all completely
Is there a chance it gets messy?
Abso-freakin-lutely
But oh what a hero you could be
Imagine it up on a marquee, shining brightly
"Some dumb fuuck, a heros story"
(A family movie)
I'll be the monkey in the middle, come meet me
Come greet me and see purgatory, my state of temporary suffering and predetermined misery
What I'm forced to portray is only done cause I must obey or pay some ******* up penalty
Knowing I am the game and the prey, feeding a self-righteous gluttony
How much more do you want from me?
How much more must I contort for thee?

©2024
When the ****
hits the fan,
the things I want to hear
and the things I need to hear
are rarely the same thing.

It’s usually the hard truth
that I remember most
in the wee hours,
when anxiety swirls
around my head

When the time finally comes
to exit the whirlpool
the words that my heart
knows are true,
are the words
that fuel the change.
Like the song I was singing with soul, for years before I lived it, before I had the experience for it to really make sense. Like my mother’s wisdom that I didn’t want to hear, but it rang in my ears after the outcome of my foolishness is fulfilled. Will I always learn the hard way?
WHY ARE YOU GIVEN THIS LIFE??
WHAT DOES LIVING LIFE MEAN???
WHY ARE THERE DIFFERNT AGES
DOES IT EVER BECOME HARD TO REMEMBER ALL THE MEMORIES
SHOULD WE BE HAPPY TO REMEMBER
OR
SHOULD WE SAD TO ONLY REMEMBER
WHY ARE THERE DIFFERNT PAHSES
WHY ARE THERE SO MANY DIFFERNT FEELINGS ONE SHOULD FEEL
SO MANY QUESTIONS WITHOUT ANSWERS
ALL THE MOTIVATION REALLY WORK.
ALL THE POSTIVE AFFRIMATONS
HOW MANY PEOPLE OUT THERE STILL KNOW THE MEANING OF THE REAL SMILE
HOW MANY OF THEM CAN ACTUALLY HAVE A REAL SMILE ON THEIR LIPS...
PEOPLE SAY THAT EYES DOESNT LIE
CAN A STRANGER LOOK INTO MY EYES AND
TELL HOW DEAD I AM INSIDE??
Amanda Kay Burke Aug 2023
Is it hard to take?
Caring for one so little
Who craves you so much
I know I gave the world
Yes, I’m designing gift cards today; I'm crafting another creative hope, Despite all the gift cards that you tore apart. I’m not creating them to feed your greed anymore; I’m mastering them for this beautiful world, outside of my grief.
Brant Jul 2023
The hard lingering truth
Hides beneath the tongue,
           strangling your words,
Time,
Will strengthen its grip
And **** the spirit
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