The careless heart
loves with impunity,
influenced by wan desire.
It drives endlessly,
waxing full
in times that weary others.
Begging not,
nor betraying sacred trust,
it is the un-embraced,
seeking to enfold the sky.
It is wanderlust.
Railroad hobo marks
proclaiming by boxcars
where it has been
and who it has loved.
It is a name spat out
when spoken by derelict lovers,
as equal to abandon
and foolishness,
but care is a hard astringent.
A word crafted by jealous mouths
who have known it only in pieces;
theoretically, but not in practice,
the heart that yearns
without caution.
Its name is vacant,
abridged and circumscribed.
Beating in staccato rhythms
known only to the rudderless.
Nomadic, tribal tattoos
spell out its journey
across the topography
of loss and desire.
Baring itself freely,
it is a ripe target,
for the world is rife with hunters.
Seeking to bind,
to confine,
desperate to hold in perpetuity;
the careless heart.
HG – 2016
These kind of poems always leave me quiet for a while! You really are a great writer, I can’t write these type of things to be honest 🙂 I’ll just stay with my normal blog posts! 😀
Thank you so much for your kind words! I have been doing this for a long time and I just try to write everyday and read a lot and live a life that makes for things worth writing about. I’m glad you enjoy them! Thanks for reading and commenting!
You are very welcome! I like reading things like this 🙂
If you keep reading, I’ll keep writing. Deal?
Sounds great! 🙂
Hi! I was searching for rudderless travel and came across your blog. Such a beautiful poem, read it a couple of times.
I am glad you liked it. Thank you for reading and commenting. This piece was penned late at night after probably one or two too many drinks at the hotel bar. It has a touch of the wanderlust to it.