A Poem

source: The Franklin Institute

I
am a poem that roams, sprawls
and meanders, but
can also be still a while – enough to heal a dying a heart,
a heart in need of nurture – a living, pounding thing
deserving of meaningful blood, a blood that would keep the soul alive, that would will the vessel to breath;
they, in part, belong to me. So, I roam and thrive and pump my life’s air into another, so that I will not die.

I
am a heart that flounders, and with open wounds,
but can still be revived with love, even when
the daylight has gone from its shell. Still a living thing,
desperate for the richest ebony, I keep his pulse vital –
a pulse that throbs in my own veins.
So, I knead and revive, and breath life into those tired chambers,
lest I die.

I
am one half of one thing, drinking
the necessary fluids that course through
our minds and truths. We are never separated from each other like a lie
from a consequence devoid of honesty.
Morbid collections of everyday fodder clog and wither
the youth of a valve – I am constantly reborn as a testament to love
in case it
should not survive..

Downside Up

artlimited_img313248.jpg

Picture Source: Egon Kronch

Let me swim in your moonlight
take the plunge in shallow breathing
drifting
one, two, three, four
and float back to you
to exhale

Let me paint you a flower
you can hold for your own
colours
of lilac, yellow, orange
bleeding a river
to merge

Let me be your oxygen
like your heart’s fluttering wings
feathers
rising, spiralling, soaring
to live

Let me worship you
be not false nor made of stone
humanity
selfless, compassionate, empathetic
to be

 

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