Soul Absent, Heart Undetectable

Oh, it will be uncomfortable,
a cold hard table — you never
did like the cold — and bright
lights…no where to hide.

Layer upon layer will be revealed,
there will be no secret you
can conceal, no mystery
to remain hidden.

But you should not worry,
in the end it will be a futile
exercise. There is no way to cut
from you that which you never had.


A bit of morbidity loosely inspired by
Knowledge by Natasha Trethewey,
which is fantastic.


Filed under Poetry

19 responses to “Soul Absent, Heart Undetectable

  1. OUCH. Love this beat-down, Mark-style.

  2. what freedom eh/ once they have paired away and know everything…and hopefully they can sew me back up after…or just a small box…or toss me out to feed the birds…

  3. Wowzers, this one zings. Great title, perfect closing lines.

  4. I loved how it starts, the first verse is my favourite, but I agree with sherry, the closing lines are perfect and true.

  5. yep this has some deep dark meaning
    no need to worry the end has already happened (obviously)

  6. It does zing. You surprised me at the end!

  7. Ah, reminds me of (sorry for any of the profession I name…)
    the joke about lawyers getting surgery.

    Keep working on that second offering I am sure it will be just fine.
    I actually posted a second piece too…
    Though it got a tad lengthy (for me that is only a full page) 🙂

  8. Debi took my word. Actually I said: Whoa, then Ouch. I love it. Those last two lines? Magnifique.

  9. oh snap…yeah if there was never a heart there to begin with…maybe a transplant is in order…smiles…

  10. ugh…no heart, no soul – and nothing to cut – tight write mark

  11. Well done nand brought down into those quality last two lines of thought. >KB

  12. That cold darkness in your lines chills… great work

  13. That’s cold man, but so very very good. Well done!

  14. Soul absent….heartless..yikes..what’s left I wonder…

  15. Sounds like an autopsy… I’ve seen the shows on tv… those little wood blocks they put the dead guy’s head on… Even when I’m dead I’ll want something soft there. No wood block. After all, they’ll be taking my heart. How about a little creature comfort? Nice write Mark… you really can’t lose what you never had!

  16. Morbidity is nice if you don’t go around wearing it like a cinder block around your neck. And yet, you word skills always come bubbling to the surface. Better word skill bubbles than air, if you get my meaning, Mark!

  17. …should be a little less painless then…. icy cold, this poem! 🙂

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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