Feb. 13th, 2016

ontheheath: (Default)
Been waiting so long my blood has turned cold and purple

and I feel like a lone chameleon in a fruitless passion.



You heard me calling for you, I’m sure you did…

I thought the sweet songs might pique your interest,

but it’s been years and now there’s a clot over the bleed —

the wilted four-leaf clover at the edge of this garden tells all…

the tale of not letting go.



All symptoms show a heart at desire’s end,

a passion watered down,

a spirit on its last glow

and a mind bent on letting go…

so I hope this time it’s not all vine and no taters.



© Heath Muchena
http://htmm.wordpress.com/
ontheheath: (Default)
The worst disease a poet can suffer

is failure to draw to the surface

the pure waters that sit at the bottom of the well of his soul;

the crippling sickness that makes him conceive in his mind from the wealth of his experience – which should never be separate from all that is —

but disables him from sharing it.



© Heath Muchena
http://htmm.wordpress.com/
ontheheath: (Default)
glorious sky

luminous mass

here to wash

the night’s dye



many may wonder

why it’s you I reference

but if only they knew

of our conversations

and the verses

you’ve blessed me with



some fourteen thousand years before

our common era

when you birthed Stella

in the after hours of the great shower



when stars became the eyes

that would forever tower



© Heath Muchena
http://htmm.wordpress.com/

half token

Feb. 13th, 2016 03:29 pm
ontheheath: (Default)
early Saturday morning

her scent still lingered but she’d disappeared



she liked to sleep in her own bed

and besides, she didn’t want to become attached,

neither did he



yet she’d left him longing

and hoping that the next time, she wouldn’t just leave a token

but instead would stay



but before brunch she was back

telling him how she’d hardly slept –

confused by the feelings he’d aroused in her



then they spent the day together

’til early Sunday morning

when again the night abducted her like Proserpina –

although he’d have sworn even Bernini

would not have been able to sculpt her – being so sophisticated



she told him that she’d wished him into existence

and he responded telling her she was the best he’d ever seen



© Heath Muchena
http://htmm.wordpress.com/

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