Stones weathered smooth by water and sand
One slips away and falls from your hand
Trying again it slips away from your clasp
Like my bloody heart that’s hard to grasp
The blood from my last piercing’s coat my heart
Watch your fingers I’ll lock tight the gate to start
Your first time was free, now the key you must find
Throwing it into my whirlpool you dive in blind
The end of the whirlpool you fall into bed
Picking up your pen to write what’s in your head
You lay down the pen and yourself back to sleep
Looking for stones weathered smooth as you dream deep
© 2012 Michael Yost 4/15
the last line in the first stanza makes me wonder, why is the heart so hard to grasp, isn’t it scared of being alone, or is the fear of being hurt again, stronger? Sometimes you write a piece and it sends your reader elsewhere, as did yours, xxxxx
Thanks for saying. Hearts are like a greased pig; just when you think you got the bugger it slips away.
I really liked the first stanza. I rather expected slipped like fish, but then you caught me off guard with the bloody heart. I love it when that happens!
Rather complex feelings in this poem, I feel anger, sadness, fear, and sense of loneliness.
Thanks for sharing. To some sadness is a good emotion to have. When your sadness continues to grow, by self pity it’s time for a cold shower.
You try to deal with your feelings of sadness, anger and frustration, but like rocks worn smooth by water and time the ability to do this keeps slipping from your grasp. Feelings of betrayal and a battered heart that you’re not sure will ever recover from the bloody beating it previously received is beating; thumping painfully in your chest. You gave it willingly before, now the next person is going to have to work hard to deserve your trust and love again.
I’m not sure if this is what you meant this reader to get out of your poem, but these are the feelings that hit me as I read this. Very well written and so full of painful emotion. A job well done. Be blessed.
Thanks for the comment and the visit. This one could be a male or female telling the story. What happens when one of them finds the key, is the rest of the story.
In sentiment rather puts me in mind of …
They say when you get a lover
You begin to lose a friend.
That the end of the beginning is the beginning of the end.
They say the moment that you’re born is when you start to die.
And the first time that we said hello began our last goodbye.
Roger Whittaker in The First Hello The Last Goodbye, 1976.
… and we are never too anxious – or trusting – to try again, eh …
like the use of warn stone … effective.
That’s a very beautiful and truthful sentiment. Thanks for sharing it.