A Beautifully Brocken Heart.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


A poem about a night so oppressively hot, that it causes anger towards it, and things in general, perceptual changes, and a hardening of the heart. Then, standing before the sea, there came a great
mood change, as nature, in its nocturnal seaside form, exerts its full force on an angry and hard heart, until it beautifully breaks, allowing in all that nature offers.

Submitted: June 15, 2018

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Submitted: June 13, 2018

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A Beautifully Broken Heart.

I hold this night in hate, and in heat my heart now hard baked, with enfeebled thrum, each beat is weakly beating.

Low the black skies now, low with boiled eyes now: the night has set its sight to glaring.

Before me, as if ln constructs visions, darkly flows contortions black and flecked with sparks.

There the sparse traffic drifts and glints, malign in its stripes lit bright,

with mirroring light, shaped to knives, which could cut the eye that spies them.

I walk, and on I walk.

On I walk, look to see with head up then down, and again the same motion.

There seems to be nothing.

I seek to see a portal sweet, amidst this seething heat, this torturous nocturne.

Then in ambulatory drift, alight the steps, the glistening stone steps,

In service of the sea-lapped, sea-dipping, water-break.

From this salt-aired perch, with lid-gripped eyes, I peer out toward a fathomless sea.

Above, the moon is lit cool, a soothing blue pallor has brushed it's sad- cratered face.

And I feel it's soft sadness, the kind that brings succour, as the bosom to the babes hot brow.

And the moon, with its pallet-luminous, daubs bright its lights to the sea.

Now all grounded matters, triangulated and curled, are all of a sparkling motion,

a watery evocation, deep stirring when revealed, a glory to stand and behold.

Waves in hundreds measure, small, large-spanning, and bright each beam-crested:

their fleeting gifts, repeated from the moon, and high flickering stars of the world.

And all this is beheld, and all of this heart-registered:

the flourished sea, and the tenderness of the moon.

So now my heart is broken, beautifully broken now, by the light, by the sea, by the moon.

Now here stand I happy, heart broke and happy and happy on to make my way now.

And sonorous sings that black, glinted sea, and the wind, seemingly blows the way home.

I held this night in hate, and hard then my heart was baked.

Then I took to a stone-step perch, and breathed in salt and deeply looked,

and there I saw multitudes, brilliant, dark and various, the night time beauties of the sea.

And on this night, none more the like, a beautifully broken heart did feel.


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