Star Heart

by Darryl Price


This is the place I could find my breath. I didn't

Say I understood it. I only wanted to hold someone and

Meant to. I don't care about the rules for caring.

This place where I could speak was incredibly far from


Where I'd once met you. The place where I could speak

Had its tender moments. I didn't say I was completely lost,

But I was alone. The place where I could speak

Was like a cave with blank canvas walls. The place where


I could speak had a nice view of the stars,

But I craved your skies. They laughed and said, get

Real, moon child. The place where I could speak was

Also the place where I refused to be afraid. The


Place where I could speak didn't cost all that much, but a

Metaphorical arm and leg. The whole process blew me

Up like a film of dynamite over and over again. What can I say? People are

Resilient. If something's funny, you laugh. If something's sad you


Die a little each time you feel it. The place

Where I could speak was a garden out of time.

I stood there waiting to be unfrozen. Sooner or later

We all get up and walk away from the sorry game


Knowing our wishes are never going to come true. The

Place where I could speak broke my heart like a fish. Is that

What you want to hear me say? I'm not trying to hide

A scarecrow's helping arm from you or anyone else in this picture. I've


Had huge chunks of light dissolved out of my own

Torn north star chest, parts by torrential rains, parts by

Storied dreams. I've got permanently opened up places in my beginnings.

This is the place where you get to slip out and


be long gone. The place where I could speak has no

Words for itself. The place where I could speak is

Missing a dozen or so important apologies. I'm sorry for

The little flowers that sought protection there. They were also


Hurting for a friendly side to lean on. The place where I could

Speak is slowly closing in on me. When something's sweet

You smile. When it's harsh you feel ignored. The place

Where I could speak is just my opinion according to some. The place


Where I could speak gave in to your smile and nobody

Else's. I'm not a fool, but you took my hard earned

Good-bye without saying the truth. That pretend spot was where I could be

The same as the one who'd already moved on, whispering, don't stop, don't     you dare stop anuthing now. dp    

Bonus poem:

Last Meal by Darryl Price

The sky continues--nothing

we can do will make a

difference. Sky continues,

resistance is futile, like

any miracle. The modern

historian will be faced

with the same diagnosis:

original sin or wicked

genius? Sky continues

to make people sick, drop us

down in the heart please; die rich and

enter heaven through the back

door or die poor. Either way

you are forcing others to

abandon you while they're serving you

up your last meal. The sky

hands you an egg and says, you're

on your own. Sky continues,

all from memory. The sky

continues to be a shout out

at all the new pollution.

The sky continues to turn.

The sky continues to be true.

The sky continues to seethe

with stars. The sky continues

to burn its mouth on the sun.

The sky continues towards

insolence. Sky continues

and you are lost to me. Sky

continues; I run backwards.