Poem- The Mechanical Heart

The slow drum of pressure moves up through the chest

demanding release or reprieve;

a force that moves the tongue if unchecked,

in kinetic dispersion, to heat.

Any great feeling of love or despair,

will fight to be let out as breath;

The thermodynamics of chatshows say share,

for illusory feelings of rest.

But water boils quicker if sealed when heated

sulphur burns hotter when dense.

The result’s more fantastic when properly treated

and the light given off more intense.

Let mouths remain still then, force them to silence,

leave fragments the tongue leaves untold;

let them boil in the pressure, tumult and violence:

The heart’s pressure chamber transmutes them to gold.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s