My Untrainable Heart

My untrainable heart still speeds up when I hear your name 
and I am grateful that my legs are strong enough
to run in the opposite direction
and if I retrace your face in the mourning hour of the night
on my pillowcase
at least it vanishes
with the coming of the day
I can pretend you don’t cross my mind
one thousand times 
and I can seal up those intrusions
like painting a window black so the light won’t trickle in
I can wipe away the honeyed smearing
of some higher grander attributes
remembering instead
the cake you hoarded while scattering dry crumbs to your flock
all this I can do
I will do
I do…
but my fatuous
untrainable heart
still speeds up when I hear your name

About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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2 Responses to My Untrainable Heart

  1. Yup. You hit it spot on there. Very well-observed poem. Love it.

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