Heart to Heart

Roses reside inside, arriving
by scent from smooth petal
scarlet or white. The heart
knows its kind, knows its
own.

Words, can they too cut
clear through skin, so many
layers meaning... what? To rest
alive in a metaphor of beating
beating heart, the rhythm of
survival.

Old lays, old lies surround
and comfort, surround and
suffocate. Taken to heart,
by, in, through and cross
my word.

Romance of the rose, in part-
icular scent, texture, hue
carried and cared
for. You.

Longing, be
longing
belong
love
don't
be
long...

Full fill
the heart of the rose
in the naming.

No intervention needed.


Photograph by Gavin Stairs Internationally known as a sound poet, Penn Kemp runs Pendas Productions, a press for fine poetry book/cds. Two of Penn's Sound Operas have recently been performed around Ontario: See and hear Penn's poems on www.mytown.ca/pennkemp/ with more info on www.mytown.ca/pennletters/.	Monday's Poem © Penn Kemp Heart to Heart Roses reside inside, arriving by scent from smooth petal scarlet or white. The heart knows its kind, knows its own. Words, can they too cut clear through skin, so many layers meaning... what? To rest alive in a metaphor of beating beating heart, the rhythm of survival. Old lays, old lies surround and comfort, surround and suffocate. Taken to heart, by, in, through and cross my word. Romance of the rose, in part- icular scent, texture, hue carried and cared for. You. Longing, be longing belong love don't be long... Full fill the heart of the rose in the naming. No intervention needed.
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