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pieces

i once met a man who broke my heart
after he'd held it a while.
he even danced with it one lonely night
before he threw it on the tile.

he brushed it with lips too sweet for skin
and held it with hands too hard.
he painted it red and bled out the gray
then stitched up wounds that turned into scars.

he spoke to it, though i doubt it heard
in a voice so quick to sway.
then he boxed it back up on a tiny shelf
and caged it till it faded away.

And of the man who broke my heart,
I haven't much to say.
after all i gave it free of will
and he's kept it to this day.

One piece in his closet and one in his pocket
and another under the desk.
there's more I'm sure, though where I know not,
he'd only keep the very best.

I kept one piece to myself for a while,
coveting, savoring and holding it close,
but I see of all those who could break my heart,
he's the one I'd want to most.

Maybe it's those lips too soft,
or those hands too hard to hold
Either way my hands been dealt,
and I am content to merely fold.

There once was a man who broke my heart,
and kept it through and through.
where he is now I haven't a care
for it's me who'll forge that heart anew.

Author notes


Written February 2nd, 2004

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Comments

1 - 6 of 6

  • Fire-Pistil
    February 14, 2004
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    i think that so man of the love poems we come across are achingly cleche but not this one. i like this one alot. but i think what many writers forget JC is that we have to take special attention NOT to make it cleche. like in this poem here. good show FtC


  • writonthebody
    February 3, 2004
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    thanks for the rant supporting my "cliché" poem. however, how bout some critique buddy? save the rant for my author page! This is valuable comment space you're wasting! lol.

  • jc mcgee
    February 3, 2004
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    i think i'm just gonna have to take over the poetry world and set some things straight with people. firstly, i'm sick to death of the idea that love, heartbreak, etc are cliche. if they are cliche then LIFE is cliche, because EVERYONE loves and get their heart broken. therefor it only makes sense that it will be written about a great deal, because it's an experience every writer will share. certain lines can be cliche. if a line is commonly used, such as "pack of lies" or "fire and ice" or "absence makes the heart grow fonder" or hell you name it, there are billions of them - THAT'S cliche. topics aren't, not if they're common human experience. love is never cliche. if it were, we'd get bored falling in love because "it's all been done before." and i realize philophant means no harm in her comment, nor is this rant actually about her. it's just the whole school of thought regarding what's cliche and what isn't. i've got the words, in fact, written on my amazon.com page in a review, that i explore cliche topics such as love and death. those are two things every person will experience and they have such gravity that they are BOUND to cause you to write about them. how can either of them be cliche? who's gonna say to their grandmother as she is dying, "oh for christ sakes, grandma, this is so cliche. everybody dies. do something original!" sorry, i'm gonna end this rant now. i think the realm of poetry needs to be schooled by people with some sense.


  • The CheshireKat
    February 2, 2004
    Edit | Reply
    "And of the man who broke my heart,
    I haven't much to say.
    after all i gave it free of will
    and he's kept it to this day."

    those lines are so... i don't even know, timeless. exquisitely honest. they'd make a great epigraph to a story or novel. i don't know what made me think that but anyway... yeah. 'twould make a great quote.

    Kat

  • philophant
    February 2, 2004
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    most of these stanza poems are filled with trashy cliches, but yours is simple, sweet and breaks all the rules. you took a cliche idea, infact, and twisted them to fit you. wonderful.


  • A Smidgen Unhinged
    February 2, 2004
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    Super good

    Wow... I have felt that way before... that was touching...
    "i once met a man who broke my heart
    after he'd held it a while.
    he even danced with it one lonely night
    before he threw it on the tile."

    What a great stanza... Bravo, I can't wait to read the rest of your works!

1 - 6 of 6