Thursday, July 6, 2017



After DeTyme Poet’s Question of the Day,
Could you love a Broken man
if he’s “fixed” himself?

Fixed ain’t the right word.
Maybe healed.
Maybe love him with
his scars, and ask him
all their names.
Maybe people stop
defining normal as
How Are You Today Fine,
and say today is hard, and
get a nod of acknowledgement
without trying to 
force a superglue fix 
on us to make 
feel more comfortable.
Maybe we never find
all the scattered shards,
and the dings and cracks
will always show.
Maybe we stop trying to
glue ourselves back together, 
and just know everyone has 
some sharp edges, and
these are mine.

So yeah, I can. I have.
None of us grow up
without loving someone broken.
None of us grow up
without being broken by
someone we loved.
Maybe broken isn’t bad.
It's just broken.

DeTyme Poet is David Toliver of Tampa, FL, a poet and community leader who posted a question a day. Look him up on YouTube.

Saturday, March 11, 2017


When the Moon in Virgo
turns Full in broad daylight,
the heart broken may 
not even notice.

Morning Luna casts back
the intentions sewn on 
her dark face. No hour 
was really lost, clocks being
irrelevant to Her magick.

All her cleansing glamour
appears translucent, ghosted
on the blue, while her
brother Sol glares nearby,
commanding attention from
the clock-driven unaware.

But - no SPF 50, no shade tree, no roof 
can shield what was planted, sent back 
in full bloom. Her reflective glory 
a magnifying glass beam singeing that spot, 
smoke rising from the hole burned through 
wherever you hide. What you’ve sown, 
you shall reap, even if you’ve changed your mind.

Thursday, January 19, 2017


When you send back the shattered
pieces of my heart, send them all. 
Do not keep even 
the tiniest sliver as a memento.
It was mine.
They are mine.
All of them.

Put all the bits in a plastic bag
and press it all down in a corner,
and twist it off so it’s sort of shaped 
like it used to be, like a fist. 
Did you know your heart is about 
the size and shape of your fist?

That’s true.

Freeze it solid so it will keep
without rotting. I can take it
out every once in a while and
hold the cold against my chest 
where it used to beat,
to remind myself
No one breaks your heart
unless you hand it to them first.


I learned that lesson long ago
and why I chose to do it
again is a mystery.

That’s not true.

I was just so lonely.
I really do know better
after all this time, it’s best 
to not have hope
for a heart that’s beat will
sync up with mine and 
even if one does, it’s still 
best to just walk away

They can’t break your heart 
unless you hand it to them first.