“Anyone Who Had a Heart”
Part One
Innocent as the thousand thousands, fallen petals,
from ornamental apple trees. White paint
and pointless dropped onto the sidewalk. Done.
Even the bees have gone elsewhere.
A breeze with feather touches pushes shoals
of used beauty, into the gutter for the coming rain.
Better to have been a poppy from the start.
Scarlet. Black-hearted. Not so easy to forget.
Better never to have been innocent.
Part Two
The scheming lord looks out on dawning Edo.
Says:
I hate this city. He has just gutted a guard
and stabbed some poor stray wakeful in the back
on his way to slip the bolt for half-masked assassins
to stream in. Blood and murder. I hate this city
he says, not quite ruefully. I almost laugh.
Humans do laugh, to let go of horror. I once
left a city that left me by changing
in its heart. I hate this city I love.
Another made to combo day. Quickly’s Split Personality, and NaPo’s music prompt.
This didn’t turn out quite the way I’d hoped. Let’s call it lack of focus. I had a lot of Dusty Springfield, including Anyone Who Had A Heart, and then one of those segued into Corcovado . In fact, I think Part Two should stand alone under the title Corcovado.
Reminds me of when I live in NYC in the mid-late 1960’s. Not quite Japan…but a love hate relationship. I do not need to go back… Maybe to Queens one day to visit some ‘stones’… but nothing else matters. At least not there.
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Part 1
I feel the same about this poem. Potent, but I wish it wasn’t.
Part 2
Although I still love the hand that floats above the page. I swear I do.
Stubborn. My rules, you see. Small gratitudes.
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Masterful. They are both so visceral.
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