Homeless brain and tattered heart

A homeless brain
and a tattered heart
went walking through town one week
I happened by
and followed them round
and so I heard them speak

Said the brain to the heart:
“I’ll give you my intellect
if you give me your swagger
And you’ll be wise
and sharp as a dagger”

Said the heart to the brain:
“Well thank you kind sir
but a dagger I needn’t be,
for who would then love
someone as sharp as me?”

“Love?” said the brain,
“How illogical, unforgiving!”
“Why you might as well not beat
and just give up on living!”

But the heart then responded:
“To think so much
I fear for the hurt
if I had to weigh all the choices
A feather’s touch
I’d be left in the dirt
listening to a million voices”

Brain then lamenting:
“So ‘tween heaven and hell
and your show and tell
you fear for the hurt that’s to come?
I’ll tell you the trick;
feel nothing, skin thick
and make that your first rule of thumb.”

And so on they walked
and talked and they talked
and they talked till the sun it went down
No further exchange
was made on that day
and they continued to walk out of town

Many suns up and many suns down
and the tattered heart came back to town
Seemingly lifting an insurmountable curse
as he pressed on pushing the enormous hearse
Inside the coffin, the homeless brain lay
dead and dead and deader than dead

Though no exchange initiated,
trade had occurred
But the homeless brain had not accounted
for that, to him, which was absurd
Love as light as feathers
ruined him,
pressed him into the ground
like mud with leaves,
and his intellect no longer a cushion
nor a protection bubble for the soft membrane

Love and logic
Emotion and absurdity
co-existing in a world of anti-hypothetical
and love, ah love…
that holds the strings to the purse
It is love
that pushes the hearse.

© The Drummer Poet


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