I see your heart too big
to stay under skin and bone.
The cavity meant to hold it
begs to be expanded.
This dark universe days
your own infrastructure is
no different from anyone else
and the cave that surrounds
your heart will stay same-sized,
I see your heart too big to stay
confined, cinched, and silent.
I can see an ocean
in your eyes, how it carries
the light from all of light’s sources—
sun, moon, distant planets
(slick with galactic tears)—
all in your eyes, so authentic
as to be naively surreal,
piercing, conscious, aware
untraded for image
or approval. Soft summer
forever mornings living there;
each day a christening.
I pledge allegiance to
everything you woke in me,
to the fury of your passion,
your heart, your ocean
The cold links of these chains you wear constrain
your memories from freely airing their complaints.
Origins: Who is that woman
pushing poppyseed through the hand grinder?
Sad she is, incapable of sharing
such a sensuous experience. Who
is that man, sold early into
slavery, but sweetly surrendering
to it all his life? That orphanage from
which you emerged—after World War II, and
after Korea, and “I Love Lucy,”
and Soupy Sales,* and long after childhood’s
life span—where is it now, who lives there now?
You need someone new in the rawness of
this naked life. A mother, a sister,
maybe a lover, to show you that all
that is good on this earth can be had.
Come here. I’ll hold you in this wilderness.
*Soupy Sales hosted a children’s show out of Cleveland, Ohio in 1951
Martina Reisz Newberry’s most recent books are Blues for French Roast with Chicory (Deerbrook Editions), Never Completely Awake (Deerbrook Editions), and Take the Long Way Home (Unsolicited Press). She is also the author of Running Like A Woman with Her Hair on Fire (Red Hen Press).
Martina currently lives in Hollywood with her husband, Brian, a Media Creative.