so it seemed

it seemed

for him to love her

the way she desired

he needed to be selfless


she couldn’t understand

why he preferred the solitary life

to the blessing and warmth of her companionship

and a union that promised to serve more than his sexual instinct


it seemed

his understanding of love

was distinct from hers

to him it was not to be sought or found

not to be had or held

but the moment

the motion


in company or alone

to be discovered

to be lived

so it seemed


© Heath Muchena, 2014

Charge City

in the city

amongst the glass and bricks

the poor and uppish

parks with swings

where teenage misfits dance and have drinks


adults do drugs

and sex is cheap


trust doesn’t come easy

and it’s uneasy on the streets


so one has to learn the tricks

as well as establish some links

to fill the holes in the plugs

and maintain the current

never disrupting the flow

of the city


© Heath Muchena, 2014

Hope Springs


can even spring from hope

when you have misplaced longings

so stop lamenting yester’s wrongs

on mornings that follow


© Heath Muchena, 2014

The King’s Mirror

if the soul mirrored

sure it’d show

a king and his cattle

turned slave and stripped of the old comforts

now old, helpless and distraught

and worse – with a new found comfort in joyful ignorance


his seeds become serfs

a perpetual existence


he has no mind left for battle

sidetracked by the -isms

and losing the race


the books he did not write

gods he forgot to consort with


but if only the soul mirrored

sure it’d show

the indestructible


a queen so fertile

sons and daughters she’ll have

who will serve and restore

youth, courage and the vitality for work

to hold and keep their own

and remain faithful to the lineage


their deeds like the turf

held by the roots

and giving the green comfort

to all beings


© Heath Muchena, 2014

Generation Ex…

there’s only experience

of which we are all a part


so to exclude some piece

is to chip away at the heart


© Heath Muchena, 2014

A Song About Seed

crystallized dreams

now reality


who knew one could create

all these things


to be revealed

when ripe…


like an awakening

on early Sunday morning


© Heath Muchena, 2014

The Legend of Urban Fridays V

she was wishing

she wasn’t number one

but the only one


he was thinking

he’d come undone

all for lust and fun


© Heath Muchena, 2014

the botanist and the butterfly


A Cherry Orchard

Pavlovich the botanist has just finished pruning some buds and is now tending to a pendent ramus

Bábochka the butterfly flutters around


:    so what is it with the bow tie buddie,

trying to mimic my wings?

Pa:    well… I figured I’d make somewhat of an effort today

:    why?

Pa:    it’s my birthday

:    fancy!

Pa:    what is?

:    the knot

Pa:    you think

:    she’ll love it

Pa:    she will?

:    I swear it…

you shouldn’t be working in your celebration attire you know…

why bother working at all today? the fruit will still grow…

Pa:    I never take days off,

you don’t — why should I?

:    firstly, you’re human, I’m not

Pa:    and what’s that supposed to mean…

:    you have a longer span, you can afford to… after I emerged and my wings had dried,

I vowed to never rest and always fly

Pa:    so have I… vowed to always try

:    you should be with her… all the way over there

Pa:    starting to sound as if you don’t want me here

:    of course I do – want you here… it’d be otherwise too wild and dull without you…

Pa:    tell you the truth ‘boch’ – so are all my days without you… oh-so-idle

I just wish you’d live longer

:    if I did, maybe you wouldn’t cherish me as you do

Pa:    I love you

:    I love you too


© Heath Muchena, 2014


only by perseverance and forbearance shall one come upon substance


© Heath Muchena, 2014


gathered all the stones they could get and built a great city

only to be crushed under the weight… what a pity


© Heath Muchena, 2014