Wild Heart Stories (A Poem)
My heart is full of stories:
A melodious mix of characters,
And ever-playing scenes,
Of so many memory lanes,
Of ideas and dreams.
Like a worn-out record,
There are scratches from
Times they’ve been overplayed,
Echoing in the rooms of my mind,
Stirring up my soul with feelings
That have lingered and stayed.
Stories that remain under lock and key,
For only my heart to feel and see,
They cast shadows behind my light,
Illuminated on days of fight or flight.
What if those stories are burned,
Or the playing record is turned?
Besides the B-sides,
There are other stories learned.
My heart is full of stories:
Pumping love-fuelled,
Passion-cooled,
Tales of the highest bliss,
Let’s treasure the pleasure,
Oh, that kiss, we miss.
In the moments of silence,
I taste the tones:
Some blues,
And rock hues,
An oozing of jazz,
A dash of class,
A cocktail of rhythms,
A bourbon of love,
Poured on the rocks.
My heart is full of stories:
Let’s release them all,
Ignite and rewrite,
Set fire to the old,
Free the present,
Create a soul space,
Wild freedom lived,
To unfold and be told.
My heart is full of stories.
Let the record player spin,
Until the music dims,
And the light flickers out.
11.28
Hello Marie:
I used to write a lot of poetry, especially when I was in my teens. that special sea of angst seems well-served by poetry. poetry and 24/7 (or so) rock and roll music.
lately, I write comments or thought pieces, ou know, 1500-word things, that I post on blogs, social media. but I still have strong “poetry buddies” blended through the non-fiction frameworks .
Someone once asked W.H. Auden what the greatest compliment was that a person could give him about one of his poems. Auden replied: “I like your poem.”
“Wild Heart Stories (A Poem)” — I like your poem, Marie.
Thank you.
Ernest Gilbert