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THIS HEART OF MINE
Ruled by the heart
What a life is this?
No comfort, no rest,
Everything amiss.
Even amidst beauty
It revels in despair
Even in enjoyment
Clothed in sadness.
This heart of mine
This thudding companion
How it makes my living
An episode of tragedy.
This heart of mine
This companion of life
How it keeps me busy in
A battle against myself.
At conflict with things
Not cut-out to fit in
With the mass of humanity.
Is always restless
Like ranting to be free.
Ready to love intuitively
But too keen to be fooled with
And wise enough to see
The true and the false.
Not ready for deception
By frivolous souls
Wishing nothing more than
Time-passing joy-seeking.
Agonizingly over-sensitive
Bleeding incessantly
In the stretches of the dark
And looming, lonely nights.
Craving for true womanly love
And always cheated craftily
By those skilled in guile.
Ah, what a sad companion I have!
Who rules me powerfully
Giving me less of joy
And more of misery.
Not happy anywhere
Not content with many things
Wanting its own style
In the ambit of events.
Scoffing at falsehood
And disdainfully mocking
At the charlatans of love.
Not tuned ith the whims
Of the vain and the capricious.
Always searching itself
And its purpose of rhythms
And the form that embellishes
My hidden human soul.
Ah, what a companion
This heart of mine is!
ABOUT THAT HEART OF YOURS
I highly suspect that
a heart such as yours
is cunning with its view
yet ultra pure of feeling
quite stronger than steel
but lovelier than oak
do not doubt nor
question such a gifted
organ
a man's heart is his
license for good
whether he uses it
or not
in his deeper most self
that ability is there
the ability to love
and see through
the selfishness
that others set out
in the world
like garbage on the sidewalk
and call that their best
I say walk passed that garbage
shove it aside
or barrel right through it
to the truth
no matter what you fear
you may find
few have the guts
in their deepest selves
to reveal to the world
the harsh beauty
that is their hidden scars
that's the kind of heart
though that
you , the poet
you, the man
you, the devout lover of God
have
no doubt circles my words
the truth of what I share
is too bright
to let such shadows of question
that you have
sit even for a moment
at their farthest fringe
we become the goodness
that God creates us to be
from birth unto death
we bloom
out growing our scars
as we become
more and more free..........
(Jan. 30, 2011 1104pm)