Sorry for the tardy post. Somehow it just totally slipped my mind to post this one.
That week’s Torah portion included the phrase “a wise heart” so Ilene asked us to write something about that idea:
“Wise Heart”
What the heart knows it doesn’t tell
But slowly metes out
a glucose drip of loveor poison, when it hurts so bad
that you know you have to turn back, turn around
and return to the one you should never have leftIs it fair for my heart to be wiser than me?
It could at least let me in on its secrets
After all, it lives in my chest.But no, it demands space, independence
It wants to pump by its own rules, its own drummer
It’ll give it up when it’s nice and ready
or to stop me from my big mistakes.My heart nudges me this way and that
and I try to follow, I strain to see past my blinders
to know what it’s keeping from me
But always it keeps its wisdom
to itself
I think I’m starting to accept this
We all have our secrets
My heart will open up
when we trust each other
and some good feedback:
N1: likes heart vs self, non integrated, keeping secrets. But how does that work with heart inside my chest. Likes casual language, modern slang, pump, give it up, serious topic, but like a conversation. Could play more with physical images, binding, attaching. What is the substance of the rest of the person that is not heart? Mind, spirit? Counter voice?
Y: liked seperation. The glucose drip was very clear and specific, and the rest is more lyrical.
I: maybe don’t need the “drummer” cliché, it’s it’s own cliché not yours, maybe your own words alone would be stronger. Also, blindness could use a little more explication, fleshing out. Like at the end got to the second person, i’m referring to someone. There’s a confusion, switch of tense. Compared to “going back to you”
N2: interesting notion of seperation, explore it more, what’s the existensial meaning of me in one place and my heart in another?
The second exercise from this meeting isn’t ready to post, although I may try to continue working on it in the future.