I was just introduced to the poetry of John Roedel, and you should meet him too. When words have rhythm, I call it good poetry. My mind is entertained. When words have the ring of profound truth, I call it beautiful! It is poetry of the heart. Something deeper is touched; something beyond the words.
In the conflict between the head and the heart, this poem takes me on a journey to a place where I can breathe.
Poem by John Roedel
My brain and
heart divorced
a decade ago
over who was
to blame about
how big of a mess
I have becomeeventually,
they couldn’t be
in the same room
with each othernow my head and heart
share custody of meI stay with my brain
during the weekand my heart
gets me on weekendsthey never speak to one another
– instead, they give me
the same note to pass
to each other every weekand their notes they
send to one another always
says the same thing:“This is all your fault”
on Sundays
my heart complains
about how my
head has let me down
in the pastand on Wednesday
my head lists all
of the times my
heart has screwed
things up for me
in the futurethey blame each
other for the
state of my lifethere’s been a lot
of yelling – and cryingso,
lately, I’ve been
spending a lot of
time with my gutwho serves as my
unofficial therapistmost nights, I sneak out of the
window in my ribcageand slide down my spine
and collapse on my
gut’s plush leather chair
that’s always open for me~ and I just sit sit sit sit
until the sun comes uplast evening,
my gut asked me
if I was having a hard
time being caught
between my heart
and my headI nodded
I said I didn’t know
if I could live with
either of them anymore“my heart is always sad about
something that happened yesterday,
while my head is always worried
about something that may happen tomorrow,”
I lamentedmy gut squeezed my hand
“I just can’t live with
my mistakes of the past
or my anxiety about the future,”
I sighedmy gut smiled and said:
“in that case,
you should
go stay with your
lungs for a while,”I was confused
– the look on my face gave it away“if you are exhausted about
your heart’s obsession with
the fixed past and your mind’s focus
on the uncertain futureyour lungs are the perfect place for you
there is no yesterday in your lungs
there is no tomorrow there eitherthere is only now
there is only inhale
there is only exhale
there is only this momentthere is only breath
and in that breath
you can rest while your
heart and head work
their relationship out.”this morning,
while my brain
was busy reading
tea leavesand while my
heart was staring
at old photographsI packed a little
bag and walked
to the door of
my lungsbefore I could even knock
she opened the door
with a smile and as
a gust of air embraced me
she said“what took you so long?”
Find John Roedel online at: https://www.johnroedel.com/
Books by John Roedel
