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Janet Orlene

On Love and Heartbreak

It’s a dirty shame

That the only thing

Love songs and heartbreaks

Ever accomplish are

Pieces of timeless poetry,

Music that moves the heart,

Moves the soul,

Lifts or breaks the spirit

Like a full wine glass

Slipping the owners hand

Shattering on the floor

Spilling its contents on the carpet

Forever staining it

Like a memory lost in the beginning.

Glue the pieces once again

But will it hold its former contents once more?

Will it be trusted to?

Can it be trusted to?

And then there are the pieces of art

Art that adore homes and restaurants

Buildings and walls open to the skies

As they change colours

From the orangey pinks of sunsets

To sanguine mornings,

To fade into the deep darkness of the nights

Perhaps dotted by a million stars or

Painted with the skyline of a thousand city lights

But nay a star in sight

On canvases and sheets of paper

Graffiti and woven cloth

In notebooks and school boy whistles

On sand as a hand draws upon it,

Trying to drown the chaotic thought within. On weather hands like maps,

Crisscrossed with the roads on years carved on it.

In the calls of the mullah calling the faithful to come

To be a part of one throbbing croud

Like a heartbeat

Like an organ needing it’s cells

To function,

To exist,

To be.

Love and heartbreak are good.

Even for stories

Even the stories that weave you and me

Into this infinite energy,

A universe that exists within logic,

Without logic.

Stories.

Poetry.

Music.

Art.

It’s a dirty shame

That the only thing

Love songs and heartbreaks

Ever accomplish is

Art.

We are art.

 

Janet Orlene

 
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