Poetry of Love, Loss, and the Occult |
None May See I cannot trust this heart. It beats so erratically, A song out of tune, or A penny-fashioned prayer book (Offering notes to false gods) While I bathe in the blood It so calmly delivers. It is a deceitful thing, This muscle. A lump of pulsing Love, lust, suffering soul- What a heart! Should I cry out in pain? And if so, who would but listen? A waste of life-force... I have loved so many times, So I thought...don't we all? Love is a treacherous impulse, (Yet it touches this heart). I believe it is in league with The wolf's cry that freezes The blood in the veins. Could it but be an empty vessel, This aching heart, This cold-hot cauldron Catching my internal tears So none may see...so none may see This hollow-rummaging desperation, This sliver of humanity holding me here, Here in eternal longing, Blistered damnation-- The fire is hot, so very hot (Still my heart pumps ferociously). It is a terrible, terrible deceitful thing. I cannot trust this heart, Nor can you. Dena L. Moore September 8, 2002 None May See is not currently included in any collection, but look for its release in the future. |
The front page poem changes every 2-3 weeks. All work on this website are original poems by Dena L. Moore and are copyrighted. If you would like to post any of my work on your site or in print, please contact me or my publisher for permission. The poetry on this site is only a very small sampling of my work. This page was last updated on July 6, 2003 Copyright February 2001 Dena's Poetry: Poetry of Love, Loss, and the Occult is Written, Designed, and Maintained by Dena L. Moore |
