HEARTACHE

Well this is not where I’m at but it fell out of me anyway. I often think that with poems - they sort of pour as though you’ve tipped yourself a little further than you intended. There’s very little intention; just feelings, emotions and metaphors. This one is about having a broken heart - I agree, not exactly unploughed ground in poetry - but it’s here anyway.

Heartache

What’s this ache?

This indigestion?

Fracture lines made

By suggestion,

Heart attack or

Creaking age, this

Leaking rage

That burns to wage

Its war upon my question

What’s this pain?

So deeply trembles

Lonely earth

That still resembles

All I knew of

All of you

That shatters through

The love I reassembled

What’s this longing?

Broken heart whose

Tumbled walls

Lie loose and broken

No excuse for

Words we’ve spoken

Now an echo, now a token

Left for me to choose

What is this ache

This sadness for?

If not to show

That life is sore

Beneath the lines of

Rain and spatter

Pain that shatters

Blame and scatter,

Love is real and raw