He limps along the streets
a heartless man.
a being less than hope.
a liar to himself, the mineral of man.
His liver spotted hands are wrapped
around a mug of tepid coffee,
and with sour lips he sips a sense
of life to rotting limbs.
Deep inside his folds
of chest remains the ice,
a cavity, a heartbeat echo with
warmth that’s stolen by the past.
She was the summer that grew cold;
when with his heartbeat fists
he declared an ownership
that wasn’t his to take.
She left on broken wings and maybe
hides above behind the blinds,
and while he is freezing
she claimed his heart for warmth.
Reclining Nude by Victor Pasmore
Today Lilian hosts Poetics at dVerse, and want us to write poetry based on hearts… in any way you like (and you can write a wonderful Valentine poem if you like)
—
February 14, 2017
Chilling.
Oh wow. I love how you twisted the meaning of “heartless” as you moved from the opening to the closing. Very clever, well-written piece.
I actually think he killed her and now regrets it. I think her death, at his hands, will forever haunt him.
“She was the summer that grew cold”
Oh. this is haunting.
Oh, this is good, Vintage Björn, doing what you do best….tragic, haunting
Is this still the lonely librarian. Björn? He is so familiar, I think he must be.I love the progression from a heartless liar, a mineral of man, to the echo of past warmth, and to the heat of his passion that iced over. A tragic love story.
I think this is someone even darker than my librarian…
Tragedy tragedy
Happy St Valentine’s Day Bjorn
much love…
with sour lips he sips a sense
of life to rotting limbs… gosh that is so stark! What love can reduce a person to!!
Beautifully haunting!
There is a palpable sadness and darkness there.
A sombre topic – and quite apt to show the other side of ‘love’ on Valentine’s Day.
A dark & vigorous romp, brother. My sense is that she did not drive him to destitution; he found another path there. He just pines for a fantasy he never achieved, lying to himself on Valentine’s day. I love the line /deep inside his folds /of chest remains the ice./.
I admire the character of the heartless man with liver spotted hands ~
A sad tale for sure ~ Happy Hearts Day !!!
Oh….you’ve written this character so very well…I can spot him in a crowd. Perhaps his knuckles are still skinned….sadly, there are too many relationships like this. Not my valentine!
Interesting relationship. We are introduced to him as heartless in the beginning and at the end we find out the reason he is heartless is because she stole his heart for warmth and he broke her wings.
deep and meaningful character portrayal…makes me ponder
mmm I think he broke the heart of my character…..
Very well written and so tragic – a sign of a heart still capable of defrosting when he reclaims those lost parts of himself.
A mineral of man… Fantastic. All of this is compelling. I’m feeling darker today than I want to be
I think I saw this fellow on a street corner downtown, near where he sleeps under the highway overpass! Stunning portrayal!
wow! perfectly put…so beautifully vivid image and of course an inevitable dark side too…at times…!
I feel like your second stanza right now. 😉
powerful imagery indeed – I like the double entendre of love is blind and how she “maybe
hides above behind the blinds”
Oh, Bjorn…..this goes to the heart of the matter of domestic abuse. There are victims but the perpetrator victimizes himself. What a poignant, tragic spot on life.
Sharp, evocative poem.
Loving this, especially:
“with sour lips he sips a sense”
And “she left on broken wings.” Did that once. Necessary, but painful.
i guess of two broken hearts.
It is so tragic what to souls can do to one another. Love all your vivid description in this.
A sad story for all concerned.
when with his heartbeat fists
he declared an ownership
that wasn’t his to take.
A pity it did not work out right. Sometimes fate can be cruel!
Hank
http://imagery77.blogspot.my/2017/02/had-he-strength-to-overcome.html
This is powerful and jarring, this being less than hope. What a sad tale, and rightfully so. There are some cruelties that cannot be offset by warm happy endings, but only the chill of apathy… a righteous absence.