poetry

dolor cordis

It rhymes its rack-and-ruin rise to the hope in my glacé eyes.

                                        It menaces me,
                                        Built on broken brick
                                      And creakingly;
                                    It rhymes its rack-and-ruin rise
                                  To the hope in my glacé eyes,
                                Stares dauntless-on,
                                Dares down my desires,
                                Shadow-mires all I’ve found.
                                  It folds and flakes
                                  And crumble-falls
Until every dream is razed and ravaged dolls
On a war-caked mound of remnant walls.
    There, I set the cloth
    And pour the tea—
    As its hammer
Chisels the chair in me.


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5 comments on “dolor cordis

  1. There is simplicity and beauty in that chair 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “a war-caked mound of remnant walls”

    This line is a wake up call. It answers the question
    of what this planet will be if the human race doesn’t
    change its ways.

    I so much enjoy the writing on this blog. Only time keeps
    me from writing an essay on each poem I’ve read.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, SM! I’m grateful for both your time and words. What you say is unfortunately, yet hope-invigoratingly, true. This piece attempts to speak on multiple levels; that is, what could serve as an indictment of the world, on the whole of humanity, is also a dropped gavel for the singular heart. While heartache is universal and often a wage paid unto large, impersonal, self-interested (or short-sighted) groups or governments, it is also a very uniquely personal and often transformative battle (sometimes for the worse than better). We’ve all had, at points in our lives, a heart condition that has come close to killing to us. We are shaped by those engagements: how we choose to pick our fights, weaponize our thoughts and words, assess the internal damage and gauge the value of continued treaty, or walk away woundedly from a broken love. This short poem is meant to reflect on the nature and aftermath of heartache, across the scale, with both regret and hope simultaneously. For me, it’s a very polished mirror.

      Thank you again for stopping by. Your company is both a smile and a comfort, SM…

      Liked by 1 person

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