Introducing a new series of poems by Julian Matthews. Julian is a writer and Pushcart-nominated poet published in The American Journal of Poetry, Autumn Sky Poetry Daily, Borderless Journal, Beltway Poetry Quarterly, Dream Catcher Magazine, Live Encounters Magazine, Lothlorien Poetry Journal and The New Verse News, among others. He is a mixed-race minority from Malaysia and lived in Ipoh for seven years. Currently based in Petaling Jaya, he is a media trainer and consultant for senior management of multinationals on Effective Media Relations, Social Media and Crisis Communications. He was formerly a journalist with The Star and Nikkei Business Publications Inc
Link: https://linktr.ee/julianmatthews
By Julian Matthews
Who decided that the heart can be broken, anyway?
As if the heart were made of glass
As if the heart is so delicate, tender, weak
As if the heart is anything but
the very container of life itself
We know that the brain and mind are separate,
one is the physical organ, like Einstein’s in a jar,
the other amorphous, mathematical, rational, sensible
The mind is for complex thought, the memory-maker
the cerebral idea-generator, the synthesizer
And the soul, they say, is all-spiritual, ever-lasting,
immortal, the god-essence
But why does the heart get such a bad rap?
No respect, such shallow regard
It can be crushed, shattered, battered, tattered
As if it were silken and soft
As if it were frail, fragile, feeble
As if it were eggshell brittle
The heart isn’t doe-eyed, it’s hawk-eyed
Its instincts are razor sharp, talon-deep
The heart did its 10,000 steps in your sleep
It has a memory bigger than any elephant’s
It makes judgment calls far beyond
the supposedly genius monkey mind
Yet, you elevate soul over heart
when it is heart that stitches souls,
it is the sower of thought,
reaper of emotions,
the mother of all souls
The heart is soul-gripper, mind-ripper
A heart connects the conscious to the unconscious
It separates your mental state from the church of the cerebrum
It opens up and channels the stuff of creativity
from beyond
It always has–
From the third week of your conception
When it started beating on its own
Without your prompting
or your mother’s
Yes, the heart inside you sometimes hurts
It pines for missing affection and lost loves
It gropes in the dark when blinded
It aches when you are unseen
It cries out when dreams are silenced
It screams when you are ignored,
dissed, condemned, muted
For just being you, who you are
But the heart is also the constant pounding fist
in your chest
The iron pump within, the core circulator,
the power beat-maker, the lifeblood baker
Your four-chamber rhythmic orchestra
Your muscled cardio-pacer
Your ever-woke agitator
Your coronary sent-from-the-future terminator
Your most consistent mover and shaker
The strong, silent giver that never forsakes thee
Even when the last line in your sonnet was all at sea
Your heart never breaks
It rebounds and retakes
It isn’t some weak, withering flower
some twittering bluebirder
some silly romantic luster
It’s a diamond buster!
Your heart is your unbreakable hero
Your unshakeable superpower
Your mind has a mind of its own, it wanders
Your soul is only concerned of your after-life
Your heart is here and now
It cares. It beats only for you, and you alone
Believe in it! Because it still believes
in you.
First published in “13 Poets for a Pigeon Kiss” anthology, edited by Eike Waltz, and available on Amazon at https://a.co/d/aI1VVZs
