Archive for heart

Song of Myself

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 4, 2016 by bigtuna185

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When I think of the groanings of the earth
And how she murmurs and whispers life that springs up
Through the firmament, cracks and fissures
Tectonic plates shifting beneath my feet in constant change as I am
I wonder at the sameness of it all
About how I too can split apart at the seams
Continents drifting, Pangaea lost
The world forever changed
About how earthquakes cause tremors along the fault lines of the heart

I stoop down to pick up the pieces
The tiny trinkets that make up me
That have fallen out of their proper place
And try to rearrange them so that they won’t be so easily moved
But I might as well try to chop down trees so that they won’t be destroyed
And store them away somewhere safe
While ironically being the cause of their demise
For you see if you want to be safe then you must accept a loss of control

Safe is not always best.

Roots must be allowed to spread in unsafe places
Dangling off of cliffs
Dangerously tethered to unstable ground
Should the foundation fail
The seed will still spread
And most likely in better soil

I cannot live life tying things down
Hoping that things will not shift out of place
When the world moves, so do I
And we have both learned to live with it

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Unfurled

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 20, 2016 by bigtuna185

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Scars and wounds afflict this tortured heart
From battles won and lost valiantly;
This causes cynicism to impart
Its hollow creed to rot inside of me.

Deserted and abandoned all alone
Was how I lived despite my aching soul,
Bruised and beaten, hope itself unknown,
My weathered mind had surely paid the toll.

Stormy days raged skyward from up above,
Little chance for light to pierce the great expanse,
But winds do often change persisting love
To move from naught; endearing thoughts advance.

If but a single draft would catch the sail,
Bring wayward, lonely Love back without fail.

Indebted

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , on July 15, 2014 by bigtuna185

If my heart was a bank
And love was currency
I would now and then currently and chronically
Be financially irresponsible.

Like an inventor with big ideas,
Ones that endeavor to push the boundaries
Of science and culture and government funding,
I sign my pacts and contracts with good intentions
Without ever thinking about how taxing
This next business venture might be.

I invest in stocks that yield no return,
And after every experience I grow a little more prudent
With how I spend myself.

Forgive me if I have become miserly,
If I adopt a bit of Scroogian tactics.
It is not your fault,
And I need no ghosts to haunt me into
Better business practices.

I am my own accountant;
Therefore I am solely accountable.

Insomniac

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 27, 2014 by bigtuna185

Eyelids drooping low,
My body thirsts for relief;
My heart seeks to live.

Routine Maintenance

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on December 9, 2013 by bigtuna185

I used to hate when my “CHECK ENGINE” light came on,
Because it usually meant that I was about to lose money.
Now I’m a bit older, and finances seem to matter less,
But I got to thinking about the light and the car and the moving parts within,
And how they aren’t so much different from me
And my heart and my brain.

I thought about what it really means when that illuminated annoyance
Flickers to life upon my dashboard, almost with a sneer.
It is never specific, for then how would the mechanic make his hourly wage?
It gives little to no information other than the fact that
Something is wrong.

And so now I hate the light for a different reason now,
Because it serves as a constant reminder of the state of my inner self,
How my heart has been unable to function properly.

I imagine someone tiny inside, fumbling at the controls,
Attempting to steer me in the right direction
When all of a sudden the “CHECK ENGINE” light comes on.
So he slams the dashboard with pulsating rage,
Yelling profanities at my brain, but he doesn’t have to be so loud.
The message is received long before that happens:

There is something wrong with my heart,
But I have no idea what it is.

Blitzkrieg

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , on October 14, 2013 by bigtuna185

My anguish lies internally
But the scars seep through my skin
I wonder when the torture ends
Will I ever breathe again?

For sights and sounds, your face and voice,
Are magnified through this lens
That heart and soul and blood escape
With each word this author pens

Undefined and confused, a terrible ruse
Why play tricks without intent to jest?
These unpredictable inconsistencies do wear thin
The instrument that beats beneath my breast

Say the word and make it so,
Or end the suffering and decline
I cannot bear this hollow pain,
Possessing you, yet you are not mine

The fault is not yours, it is mine alone
A glutton for punishment am I
The risks and conditions were clearly expressed,
I hoped my advances would not be denied

Time, you are the enemy, my heart’s rival
But my strength and resolve are no worse
It is my burden to bear, and I, grateful to carry
You are my greatest gift, and also my curse.

Hypertension

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on September 14, 2013 by bigtuna185

Electric feeling
Chemical impulses reign
Guards drop, pulses rise