#congenital
my congenital heart defect
~for C.E.H.~
*’tis true, my heart long damaged by repeated resuscitations,
the endless revivals invasive + new favorite hits, now so enlarged,
the doctors say, no más, no más, mr. boss, don’t let your guard down
too small to accept more standbys, ones needy most, the beseechers,
the ones who only know a single equation, love = pain, are witnesses,
no theorem proofs required, the ****** expressions unholy sufficient
a few invitees rush the red velvet ropes, inside, they hunker down,
finding a cozy artistic artery hangout, filtering my blood-streaming,
eyes for new artists, new poems, new strangers to take in, shelter...
much caring for the living, strains existence, a heart has limitations,
every human has capacity constraints for loving, but they bring their
friends, coequals in pain/heartaches/false positives, no rinse cycle
it is like calcium layering on you bones, additive, addictive, andieting
is a precursor to exhilarating dying, when love and pain passes
the point of no return, once, then, there is no expiation, no forgiveness
for the trail of your damaged acts requires admittance, recompense,
3 in 1 motor oil de minimus, you want to love equally, but impossible
task, yo, won’t last, but stretch flex skin to squeeze one more in, SMH
the puzzled doctors find my weakness DNA genetic, my lexicon has
no word in any language for barricade, fence, restraints, keep out, the hearts, smelling my blood, open cells, pile in, no blame attached*
lender of first resort, giving my organs, what an exceptional way
to hasten my inevitable and total fulfillment, stretching my limits
Jan 3, 2020
Jan 3, 2020 at 12:13 PM UTC
There are
standard connotations
of ubiquitous love:
******
...religious,
...platonic
and now electronic!
They
usually take us away
from the home base
and we are lost
in the mores
of colourful
or colourless
(but elusive nevertheless)
illusions...
of gods,...
of heroes
or simply pictures of people
we have met on the internet.
We do not understand it
for if we did
we would cease to seek.
...that the seeker might be the sought
and that no wars need be fought
for that which can be
calmly identified on the inside -
- is something we repetitively miss
and while we all magically have it,
it is in and through the other
that we ignorantly solicit
our abiding congenital bliss.
Nov 24, 2019
Nov 24, 2019 at 5:36 PM UTC
Inside me
While you grew and grew
I never knew
Your heart was broken
And that there was one
Where there should’ve been two.
After you were born
The doctor explained
Your lungs wouldn’t last
You were breathing too fast
And growing too slow
Your blood flow was mixed
And you had to be fixed.
So right from the start
Your heart wasn’t whole
But your soul
Was a universe
And your eyes
Were comprised
Of millions of galaxies.
Your body was strong
And your cry was a song.
I named you beloved
And through you, I discovered
For the very first time
I was whole.
Please always remember
You are far more beautiful
Than broken
You are my ultimate inspiration
And I’ll always consider you
My most perfect creation.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 3:02 AM UTC