to love is not to hold
just as to live is not to grow old but to never fold

therefore, not to will but to do, is to be bold
so too – a story well-told has more weight than a pot of gold

© Heath Muchena, 2015

Uptown Abbey iii

she reached into his jacket pocket
where he kept the Casanova assurance cap
then put it on him like a plug to a socket
to hold the sap

he then took off her dress and everything else except the locket
and when their bodies touched they both felt a pleasurable energy zap
and it was perfect – so they did not regret
having had closed the gap

© Heath Muchena, 2015

She Said Series v

she’s just jealous
of my beauty and gems
could even go so far as to say in this case
I feel like I’m Madame du Barry and she’s Marie Antoinette

for instance, she doesn’t quite understand
that by nature I’m just rebellious
and do things by my own terms and what I want I get
but never with intention to disrespect

yet she keeps making false claims and by the day her words grow more seditious
and it’s me she blames
for your finding her inadequate
which I cannot comprehend

it’s not my fault god gave me style and grace
and for what it’s worth, you were wise for choosing me over her
for she’d have suffocated you as if low on red blood cells – the indigent
something akin the Antoinette Bourignon effect upon the career of Jan Swammerdam

© Heath Muchena, 2015

Cold Comfort iii

time melted away under my watch
as I looked upon the horizon
so dreamy – I was reminded of Salvador Dali’s The Persistence of Memory

then my mind quickly turned to that little country
called ‘The Saviour’ or El Salvador – a place not known for much
other than that every hour a gun fires and a life is lost

I pondered that idea of Bergson’s
wondering what élan vital creates such life forms
and that too made me weary

so I switched thought
realising how lucky
I was to be caught in the clutches of comfort

© Heath Muchena, 2015


to be truly an artist
one has to be selfless

© Heath Muchena, 2015

hell hath no fury like a woman scorned

all the while it appeared she had forgiven him
but she was just being clever not to soil her reputation by scandal

so instead… she convinced another
to avenge on her behalf

the same way David instructed Solomon to bring Shimei ‘to the grave with blood’

and it was grim

© Heath Muchena, 2015

Lothario’s Peccadilloes ii

they’d meet
and have moonlight trysts
far from public reach

she had the mystic
of a J.H. Lynch lady print
so feminine
truly a perfect peach…

he wasn’t rich
but could grant her every wish
so masculine
and fully up on the inch….

© Heath Muchena, 2015

Sketch for a Theory of Persistent Passions ii

during my teens
I lost a collection of juvenilia
larger than Eli B. Browning’s extant writings

and for years I didn’t work on a single thing
or recite a prayer
for life had become the bearer of bad tidings

because of my sins
I also lost the love of my life
my ‘Uncrowned Queen’ who like Barbara Palmer
was the most popular of all my mistresses

still, after all this
I promised to do no less than Lope de Vega
and so I put my pen to paper on most evenings

but as far as ‘women’ problems
I wasn’t so confident I could do any better than him
unless I limited the dalliances

© Heath Muchena, 2015


the artist
borrows from the academic
who owes the public

© Heath Muchena, 2015

The Eternal Imaginarium iii

I could sense her presence
by the scent
from a memory traced
back to a kind of engram
of the experience we shared
in a fruit tree and flower garden
a most happy place
I wish I could go back….

© Heath Muchena, 2015