Weeping Times

It begins from somewhere,
a memory, a statement, a voice.
And the tears come gushing in
like maddening storm to an otherwise
perfectly solemn time.

Weeping times, they are
of things that cannot be changed,
of things that aren’t accepted.

We cry for these, don’t we?
Everything else falls in between.

So, my friend, when was the last time
you had tears in your eyes?
Were they of joy
or of pain?

Weeping times, like these, my friend.

It doesn’t always hurt in the heart

It doesn’t always hurt in the heart.

Sometimes it hurts in the knees
or the feet,

when standing feels like a pain-
needing to crawl,
the surface disappears.

It doesn’t always hurt in the heart.

Sometimes it hurts in the head
or the hand,

when a line does not come
without a grammatical mistake,
for the veins have gone numb.

Sometimes it hurts in the eye
after tears have diluted
the very purpose they came for.

It doesn’t always hurt in the heart,
but it always begins with the same thud
of a picture, a person, a place.

It doesn’t always hurt in the heart,
but it does hurt somewhere.