Sayings For Sale III
Posted: November 18, 2013 Filed under: Words In Imaginary Motion 1 CommentA poem’s fate not only falls on the page
but on the whole cosmic bed
and so —
for my senses to not acknowledge the fresh air
some of which is polluted by the smoke from the burning green…
to fail mention of the deep blue sky littered with seemingly insignificant stars
that if I could reach out and grab a piece of, heavens!!! I bet they’d taste like Gorgonzola…
the sacred arch between the two trees
that one can’t help but speculate nature carved especially for this view
from which I observe, looking past the picket fence into the quiet open park space…
even the waters from the rill are chattering —
thanks to the weekend rain…
the obvious necessity of all these
reveals life as the very surface upon which poetry thrives/dies.
© Heath Muchena, 2013
Poems, Charms and God’s Vineyard II
Posted: November 6, 2013 Filed under: Inhibitions Illustrated Leave a commentBeen 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, 2013
Oneironaut’s Nightmare II
Posted: November 2, 2013 Filed under: Writings by one ambidextrous... 2 CommentsThe 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, 2013
On The Heath 