Weight Of Love Poem by Mark Heathcote

His heart
Became a crumpled
Red poppy flower
A slip knot
Solipsism, thorn
A barbed iron
Slipping anchor
On a day,
Night had set sail.
On a day,
A sun must strum,
The Soloist guitar
On a day,
Wraithlike waves pushed on
Stringing under the noose
Ebony necklace of
Black beading clouds;
Blood-vessel-wine-storms
Skin-deep, whale-tanning,
Oilfields of crude tropic tears
Iris bursting blue bolts
Of abhorrent, hatred
Winging the eternal
Drum-fanning tarot cards
Shipwreck flames of pity
The dead feathered dreams
The meltdown, salt, soul
Albatross tar factory;
On a day,
The skies thoughts
Fall out of mind.
On a day,
Ribs churn like aching sandbars
With slivery icy memories
No longer gently shingled
Warmly washed ashore like jellyfish
Peacefully dying
Breathing starlight, breathless
But more like hermit crabs
Missing limbs
Is his shells heart
With its weight of love
Crushed empty...