Hartley matters heart just beating arms empty holding no one heart matters face Saturn parts yearning tears flowing fall falling to the ground watering the shattered seed Humanities smashes heart does it matter beating life's blood thinking for love muscles pumping fluids blood where is the love heart matters just greedy just wants to be loved heart matters energized circumcised cut reshaping loves not X excited yet brightened no longer excited heart beating love is gone fleeting never flourished never grew no longer excited heart speeding loves gone never came just wishful dreaming not reciprocal hardly matters
1/21/23
Written by James Edward Lee Sr 2o23
Impressionist Expressionist Madison Hartley
an abstract experiment he tried to be
Influenceg by Delaunay
one of the greatest critics now say
Oh Julia, Julia Hartley-Brewer,
I touched her knee when I hardly knew her.
A punch was threatened in my face
And in due course I fell from grace.
On Question Time her face occurred,
I hung upon Julia’s every word,
Her eyes emit intentions amorous,
Her knees quite hidden from those cameras.
I dreamt of her in see-through blouses,
Sliding fingers down my trousers,
A voice so forceful yet hypnotic,
At once commanding and erotic.
I strove to erase her from my mind
But my confidence was undermined,
I was so ashamed that I shed a tear
And terminated my career.
Oh Julia, Julia Hartley-Brewer,
I touched her knee when I hardly knew her.
A punch was threatened in my face
And in due course I fell from grace.
Stuck
By Russell M. Hartley
Between what it is and what it isn’t
Between what I did and what I didn’t
Between what I give and what was given
Between what I missed and what I’m missin’
Between what makes sense and what doesn’t
Between what did it and still does it
Between what was and what wasn’t
But between you and me, I just hope there’s still somethin’
My neighbors pot smells good
A herbal sweetness that lingers in the air
And then cloy the tongue
With hunger deeper than love's desire
I smell the thyme, parsley, pepper
The onions and basil in coming supper
Wher
e children will sit
On the outdoor log
And see the remnants of kitchen fire
Smoking through thatch roof
Like an evening mist
Curling up its cuddly tail
To meow from feet to feet
And Hartley dipping his spoon deep
Where gravy thick as longing runs
I hear begin the story
Of our hheritage once again.
It smells rich
Like a soup blend of vegetables
O the pepperpot brims my mind again
It is a two course meal tonight
For snappers uncurled in the frying pan
Are festively clad
With vegetable and spices
And garnish my mouth
O my neigbors tease is coming out
I smell the sweetness of Jamaica
The kitchen bringing us again
Together, the balm of future pain
And the coco heart
As I gather them to the first class lounge
Surely we will calm down the throng.
Of mothers in shock,fathers at a loss.
Crying wee ones encased in their arms.
Lifeboats not nearly enough I hear.
And so we play together as one.
The piano and cellos,the violins.
Kindred spirits fighting our terror.
On we play as the air becomes frozen.
Horrific screams we play beyond.
Seven band members and I.
Wallace Hartley is my name.
Please do remember me.
The bandmaster am I and these
Are the last moments of my life.
And so I instruct the band to play
One last song to say good-bye.
"Nearer My God To Thee" reverberates
Across the splintering bow as all light
From this world is extinguished at last.
By Deb Wilson
for My heart will go on and on contest
sponsored by Tracie~Indigo Dreamweaver
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