
Heartchaeology (I Won't Even Need a Whip)
Your heart is remote
and inaccessible
as an ancient pharaoh
encased in a dozen coffins
within an elaborate sarcophagus
housed in a secret tomb
beneath a pyramid
surrounded by deserts
and guarded by a cruel
brilliant sphinx
In spite of this
I embark on a journey
to unearth it
and bring upon myself
the deadly curse
of loving you
Some may call me a fool
and say that no
glittering plunder
is worth
so much suffering
To which I respond
the gold
has nothing
to do with it
More poetry
Helena, I can totally relate to this poem. It's beautiful, thank you.
Posted by: Jen Neil on May 1, 2006 06:21 AMMore please, with this kind of truth - the heart is never an ice-cube.
Posted by: oneblackline on May 2, 2006 04:14 AMIn life there's rarely gold, only scraps and walls of text in an ancient tongue. Recognizing what has value and meaning amidst the sand can take a lifetime of research.
I enjoyed this poem and the previous two quite a lot.
Posted by: claire on May 2, 2006 04:08 PMLike your recent poetry of the heart very much. Sorry I don't read the blog more often-Valarie's dad died late last month and it's taken forever for his cremains to get here and the funeral won't be until next week.
Also got into a listserve argument
with our mutual friend Nathan the Jackhammer-now I'm banned from his listserve and his West Valley venue. Thank goodness sometimes local poetry is a group of subsets rather than a completely unified conglomerate :)
Otherwise, life isn't all
that bad.
Please stay well and keep writing.
Sincerely,
Terry
again, a masterpiece. i so can relate.
Posted by: ms. sizzle on May 10, 2006 11:20 AM
About me? I'm one big, raw, exposed fucking nerve. What else is there to know?New Rule
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Where the hell I've been
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