Thursday, September 10, 2015

The Tell-Tale Poem

I can understand why
the ancients thought the
heart was the seat of emotion,
passion, fear and peace.
The heartbeat is a funny thing.

It’s reaction to stress,
to sex,
to love,
to work,
to sweet kisses,
a child’s laughter,
a stormy night.

All makes sense when
trying to decide why we
do, what we do, when we
do it.
It’s clear.

It’s why we wear our “hearts
on our sleeves”, and not our
“brains on our sleeves”.
Neither is the most pleasant
of images. I mean, if literal,
it’d be pretty gross to have
either internal organ just
jutting out there at the
end of a shirt sleeve. Ick.

But the metaphor works
because we still think, with our
brains, that the heart is the
true guide of our convictions.
Even though our brains know

Our brains pulled a fast one
on us all. “Blame the heart,”
Cries the brain. “It’s the heart’s
Fault!” And we’re almost fools
enough to believe it.

But it’s better to say heartache
than brain ache, Heartsick over
brain sick, Heartbroken over
brain broken. 

Although Brain freeze does
win over heart freeze.

Well done brain, well done.
Keep that heart pumping and
we’ll all just keep forgetting
you’re there.

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