Go ahead, open it, it’s my heart,
not a can of worms.
Allow ample time for it to familiarise
itself with your native organs:
lungs, liver, kidneys, skin.
Though I am dead now, let me tell you,
it’s been good to my skin.
Watch it freshen your complexion,
fill your lungs with ease,
quell the quivering fear in your kidneys
and cheer your liver, no end.
From here, it gets a bit more stimulating,
feel it infuse the soft underbelly of your brain
with longings so foreign to you and yours
you’ll think you have become an other -
stranger to your self, my heart’s gift.
Oh, relax!
My heart’s done all the heavy lifting.
Lovely Efi! Here is one I wrote about 5 years ago on the same topic.
ReplyDeleteWhat I Will
Don’t put me in the ground
You know I hate the cold
You know I hate that sand
Don’t dig a hole
Don’t screw down the lid
Don’t cover me over
Don’t leave me there
ashes to ashes
spark to spark
you need to let me burn
You can let them take what they need first
You can say:
Here, these are the eyes of an artist
they’ve been rolling around some
but still, they’ll show you a thing or two
You can say:
Here: these are the kidneys of a poet
they will purify your very soul
You can say:
Here, take this heart
it’s a good one
it never once was broken
you can collect me
in a jam jar in a teacup in a felt hat
and drift me downwind on a country road
or skim me with the lime stones into a glass green wave
or spread me round a mango tree
to keep away snails
oh, wow! that's beautiful! What can I say? Thank you for that, Mikaela. (And this is just one reason I love being here - just in case you haven't guessed that already.)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Robbie!
ReplyDeleteYes reading everyone else's work is a joy isn't it?
ReplyDelete