When The Heart Is Dead Poem by Uriah Hamilton
When The Heart Is Dead
When the heart is dead
The poet should be as well
If he allows verse
To wiggle out of
Bony intellectual crevices
Of the skull
Instead of dripping
From his veins
Like passionate blood
From deeply cut
Emotional wounds
Leaving psychic scars
Surviving for eternity
In the disconsolate universe.
Tears are very appropriate to the creative experience.without them the poem would have no soul at all. Great write, Uriah. Kindest regards, Sandra
Whether you think so or not......your heart is not dead Uriah! You have one of the most compassionate and caring hearts I have ever (never) met. I only pray you will one day be repayed for all your kindness you show people. Sincerely, Mary
quite deep Uriah.. I can see where you are coming from in this poem.. excellent!
I'd send you a nice big box of sticking plasters Uriah, to stem the flow of good blood lost. Write my friend and keep those verses from wiggling about too much, and get back into circulation as soon as possible. Love Ernestine XXX
Yes it is a horrible sight to see poets bleeding all over the place, it is too permanent as you say, better to use the brain rather than the heart at these times. Well done. When the heard is dead, is a provocative title for me, because I don't believe in death, just resting or close for lunch, is a better option. Smiling at you, Tai
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/2/2024 6:18:17 AM # 1.0.0.1119
oh i love it...can i copy and put it on my blog?