#2003 - the heart

 

2003

6.177

26.vi.25

the heart

 

is a singing thing

no bird’s cage

 

steels itself

it’s on the sleeve

 

heart is a spark in the doom of time

 

it’s a storm

cogs whirr

 

was once projected on a wall

 

the map is calendar

sit for

you may look into, lounge

 

gelatinous mist

in ice, the timbers melt

 

a book of mischief too

never at rest either

 

it’s where the home

tells hearth

 

it’s wrung

it’s spun

 

it’s till the end of time, heart’s dream

and then the final battle

 

hills of it, piled corpse high

foot in the mouth

 

must be who we were

 

it has its reasons

 

imagine were it connected to the world

 

a surge and sometime outage!

 

‘have one’, they’ll say

they don’t know what they mean

 

you may lie in wait to listen

here’s a thorough pulse

 

heart’s mirror of the moment

practicing old scales

fresh rhyme

 

a fever pitch

heart rockets off

then we’re away

 

broken, here and there

still beats

still keeps good time