Tender
Posted on 28 January 2010
The heart is a muscle,
its message methodical,
pushing and pulling,
a Viking at the oar
in full battle regalia.
It’s no mistake
it’s attached to love.
7 responses to Tender
Posted on 28 January 2010
The heart is a muscle,
its message methodical,
pushing and pulling,
a Viking at the oar
in full battle regalia.
It’s no mistake
it’s attached to love.
7 responses to Tender
“No mistake” or maybe another mistake gone wrong?
I think love lies concealed in the pauses between the push and pull. It arises when the methodical rhythm happens to fail, sending its message through a missed beat, even capsizing the boat!
What is love? My mother told me that love is service. I have heard that love is caring for someone else more than you care for yourself. I’m fairly certain it isn’t either one of those. Sometimes I think that the abstract emotions of love and hate are just images of which we convince ourselves. I guess I’d go more with the less painful substitutions of lust and indifference. I believe that they are more honest, albeit cynical as hell. But until proven wrong, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it, even though I’m not particularly happy about it.
~E
One key word in ”Tender” is “battle”. When you are in love you are torn between what you want for the moment and what you feel is good for the future.
BTW, have you noticed the rythm of the small LED-lightbulb on the telephone answering machine in the background to the left of the speaker? I clutch my wrist and it is as if my pulse is beating in harmony with the green rays from it. Green for yes to love!
Very well on Anatomy, Physiology and Philosophy of Heart. Talking about Love….Love is like a miracle…It’s so easy, To think about Love, To Talk about Love, To wish for Love, But it’s not always easy, To recognize Love, Even when we hold it…. In our hands.
~Amar
LOVE NEEDS A HEART
Maybe the hardest thing I’ve ever done
Was to walk away from you
Leaving behind the life that we’d begun
I split myself in two
Proud and alone, cold as a stone
Rolling down that hill into the night
I could see the surprise and the hurt in your eyes
From behind each flashing city light
Love needs a heart and I need to find
If loves needs a heart like mine
Love won’t come near me, she don’t even hear me
She walks past my vacancy sign
Love needs a heart, trusting and blind
I wish that heart was mine
Proud and alone, cold as a stone
I’m afraid to believe the things I feel
I can cry with the best I can laugh with the rest
But I’m never sure when it’s real
And it may be the hardest thing I’ve ever done
But apart from all that I hope to find
Where’s the heart that’s been looking for mine?
I hope it finds me in time
Love needs a heart and I need to find
If love needs a heart like mine
~Jackson Browne, Valerie Carter Lowell George
Did you know that the Ancient Egyptians believed that the mind and soul dwelled in the heart and not the brain? Because of this the heart was thought to be sacred, though all main organs were preserved for the afterlife.
It is the holder of life really, and love. We can live on brain-dead hooked to a machine but we cannot live without blood being pumped throughout our bodies.
I use the heart a lot in my drawings because it has so many messages: love, lust, life, pain, sorrow, luxury, you could go on and on. And even though the heart isn’t really where love dwells, that tends to be the very spot that we feel the physical anguish when our ‘emotional heart’ is broken.
Funny to think about how our brains are conditioned to feel that pain in that very spot. Some cultures actually believe that your soul and emotions lie in your liver! Interesting… Very.
But no mistaking, love is love whether it dwells in our hearts, brains, liver, or even in that pen we use to jot down our poetry.
- Crystal
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