Heft Poems

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A free bridge
collapsing
and the day bleeds
no stains....
ever escaping rugs,
can't blame a witch
of the day gusty
it's hurting.
spiraling pain
no guard heals
no sight of churches...
when the curtains
are a blind ridge,
faith is leaving,
its a leafy
sworn side focus....
red born lonely
here we left
old times
less than sobriety..
heavy of heft,
I still have Jesus
just not as wished,
is easy as pieces.
a strong contradiction,
Even all the Christians
have given up on me,
And I can't blame them,
Was I born a demon?

In an eclipse of time

As absorbed in the ember
A scape 
Bill in towers crashing
Ledges shelter
Hatred in angst and ignorance 
The feign of time
A contemplation to end
Resume history 
Well and fear my quill?
Was suffering the necessity?
Time was not 
Only in the morrows mourns
Heft of pen
Empty gadgets 
Science finished
The subject closed

Fide et amore

I Don't See What You See

Sparrows enjoy a certain reputation
For intimacy and hope

Crosby Stills and Nash sang of them
In Suite: Judy Blue Eyes
As compatriots to the morning
Air
With guitar strums and high notes

Truth be told
Sparrows are bulkier than the normal song bird
And not particularly
Pretty
Brown and gray as a mound of dirt

Chirpy jerky punk band

And they have no problem with crowding out
From a bush or bird feeder
Finches and chick-a-dees

They’re kind of a bully

Push around those that are smaller
Who carry pouches of yellow and pink
And tiny symphonies

They clog up my eavestroughs with nests

Right now
I watch one sparrow land on top of another
And the tree branch bends down
Under their heft

Bounces up and down
To their sex
Again

The limb
Seemingly
Waving them off

Or so it tries

As if it’s saying
Get off me you animals.

Hollow Frame

A boy walks slow through halls of glass,
His shadow flickers, thin as grass.
Each step a secret, each breath a theft,
Of hunger’s war and weightless heft.

They whisper when they think he’s gone,
“Is he okay? He looks withdrawn.”
But laughter fades when backs are turned,
And eyes like his are never learned.

His plate remains a battlefield—
Each bite a blade, each meal unsealed.
He counts the crumbs like ticking clocks,
His ribs a cage, his soul in locks.

Inside, a storm no one can see,
A gut that groans in mutiny.
IBS, a cruel refrain,
Twisting joy into quiet pain.

His friends? Just echoes in disguise,
With hollow jokes and plastic eyes.
They smile sharp, then look away—
He’s present, but he’s not okay.

They call him “buddy,” slap his back,
Then laugh the moment that he cracks.
Lonely, yet he's never alone,
A ghost among his flesh and bone.

He’s drained—of hope, of strength, of care,
A paper boy in poisoned air.
Yet no one sees what’s underneath,
The brittle scream behind his teeth.

And so he walks, a whispered name,
Fading into his hollow frame.
Each day a mask, each night a sea,
Of pain no soul will ever see.

Trickle Fickle

Trickle, river fickle.
Step lively by the side.
Fate, thy strictures tickle!
Hell, Heaven, woe betide!

Wind atop the high cliff wall?
Funeral, thy pall.
Cherry blossoms, heft to haul.
End Times, give a call...

Thunderbolt, hover above.
Levee, fail to hold.
Fit, misfortune! O my glove!
Coals within, glow gold...

Will of human beings?
It must not have the clout.
Everybody, pack thy things!
Doubt, begin thy bout!

Ruin, cover all our world.
Dim hope, flee from here.
Dark fire, lava, how you hurled!
Grind them, O my gear...

Ravine out back, what to pack?
Stuff it in a crack!
Failure, will you? Fade to black?
Turn about and tack!

Sullen honeysuckle?
How better to make wine?
Bridge, beneath their feet buckle!
Doom, undying dine...

The Day You Left

It was 6 years ago,
But it feels like yesterday,
That I said goodbye to you,
While trying to keep my pain at bay.
We grew up in this town,
We got 7 great years,
Little did we know,
It would all end with tears.
You visited last year,
And we still talk day to day,
But it’s not the same,
Because you’re 1,000 miles away.
Things will never be the same,
My heart can’t handle that heft,
Yet here I am, just as broken,
As I was the day you left.
I lost myself,
The day I lost you,
And I lost half of our heart,
A joint heart split back into two.

Religion

For me
religion must have a solemnity,
a heft like towering cliffs, places 
of silence and the majesty of sunsets. 
Religion must be big enough to hold
vast forests, extend beyond
the furthest galaxy and yet be small
enough to fit inside a seed.

For me
religion must have a veil of mystery
like clouds that conceal a mountain's 
height, like music that moves the soul
without the listener knowing why 
and the sublime in poetry.  
Religion must be kind and caring 
and contain something greater 
than the self. 

For me, 
religion must not divide
or promise life through exclusivity,
but be a way of making whole
and to give thanks for creation 
to whatever or whoever
you believe that to be.

What I’d Do For Love

I knew that when I fell for you you didn’t feel the same but if I had the chance there’s not a thing that I would change

And If the stars were falling and you said you wanted one, I’d go and catch and bring you the sun

Id walk a million miles to try to gain your love and if that’s not enough I wouldn’t walk them, I’d run. 

Another day goes by without your hand in mine but that’s alright, I’ll wait my turn, I’ll get in the back of the line. 

So when the day comes when I reach out my hand and hold yours in mine, I’ll tell you all these words, I’ll repeat every line. Until I know you know I want you to be mine. 

I have a couple words, 5 of them minus 2, that I desperately want to say to you. Now I know they carry a lot of heft but they come from the beating heart within my chest. 

You may not want to hear them so I’ll wait until you do. Until you’re finally ready to say “I love you too”

one second before creation :maybe:

if mankind ever comprehends everything ~ there will be nothing left 

sighs god to satan i’ll be outed ~ and you can wave goodbye to theft

well i’m a psychopath smirked satan ~ so exempt from feeling bereft 

yeah your greatest weakness said god ~ unable to bear genuine heft

and so creation burst forth ~ perfectly poised from that opening cleft 

it simply had to turn out this way ~ no matter how f#cked up or deft

By 
David Kavanagh

To My Ex-Husband: I Was Fluent in What Failed Us

I missed the window of my telling
you who you are. My greatest
talent, f*cked too thin to mend,
or maim when it mattered most.

I’m not mad anymore, just sifting
through the wreckage of my gift—
this heft of language, all I ever said,
only salve on hand to save us, too often 
out of stock.

Words flawless on paper, I fell limp
spilling from a broken mouth.
Throwing spells at your functional illiteracy,
believing an explanation could level 
our podium standings, but it never did.

I never do.
Even though I’m perfect on paper.

You never do what I want, either.
Imagining Sisyphus content
was the death of us.
And we have died nine million times
attempting the trick of it—
a compromise so smug, filled with hubris
enough to spare every kind, 
every one of us, where no one dies,
unless that’s how they wanted
their story to end. 

Our story is ending. 
What else is there?

A rock and a hill, a present mishandled 
until it becomes a burden. 
Until we've learned the weight of words 
won’t hold us, slip, slipping away 
again and again, and I’m there
hauling myself through the unwritten 
spaces you didn't even notice, you left.

The Fallen

She rests beneath her willow’s weeping rain,
As autumn strips them bare behind its theft;
Of slender leaves and tears, they stand bereft,
Yet sorrow, like the wind, begins to wane.
For all that falls to earth won't fall in vain,
And what escapes our sight has not yet left;
Though heavy hearts must carry now this heft,
It's how we know what’s lost to still remain.

And from the tears, the grieving willow weeps,
Its twigs and leaves descend to softened ground,
Reclaimed by earth and soil from which they grew.
For all that's ever buried merely sleeps,
And what we mourn as lost again is found,
When spring returns, and life begins anew.

Deep Relief

The last bus has left
It hurts, all you give is shush
A deep relief heft.

Connotations of Life

Life is strong and fragile. It’s a paradox… it’s both things, like quantum physics: It’s a particle and a wave at the same time. It all exists all together. —Joan Jett

Connotations of Life

Night birds and daydreams in Edenic oak tree.
The salty tongue and lullabye of beachy blue sea.
Rumination of childhood ‘neath honeysuckle sun.

Red, raw, fulgent, overcome by the heft of the sun.
The fruitless and barren virtuosity of Adam’s tree.
Catacombs and sawlike teeth squatting in the sea.

The thrill of tides, embraced by the bosom of the sea.
Flickering flame or blinding heat tempered by the sun.
Sanity climbing the boughs or crepitant branches of tree.

O tree keep me above uncanny sea; soothe me with the sun.

Words and Us

Do words
whether spoken or written
have the power
the beauty
the enchantment
the mystery
to convey meaning 
to evoke emotion
to paint pictures
to uplift 
to crush
to bring joy 
to cause pain
to enthral 
or 
is it our choice of words
and their sequence
our presentation
our delivery
that gives words their heft
their magic  
their ability to enthral 
to cause harm 
are we just a jumble of feelings
thoughts and images 
without meaning or structure
lacking identity
needing words 
to comprehend our complexities 
to give us meaning and purpose 
to convey to others
what we feel in our hearts
what we perceive in our minds
do words need us to fulfil their potential 
do we need words to enable us to be who we are  
the dependence must surely be mutual
for each without the other
would surely be left wanting.

After Me

Lots of items, quite a heft 
Will get lonely, when I go
Things I cherished will be left
To be packed, to be thrown
All that was supporting me
Till the end of the road  
Signs of my eternity  
Will get rot, and erode 
Only spirit will survive
But I won’t be quite the same
It will be another life
With new memories, new name
There’ll be gardens in a bloom
More of roses, after me
There’ll be moons and sunny Junes
And slight ripples in the sea.

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