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Don’t fall in love with a woman who reads – Martha Rivera-Garrido

Don’t fall in love with a woman who reads,
a woman who feels too much,
a woman who writes…
Don’t fall in love with an educated, magical, delusional, crazy woman.
Don’t fall in love with a woman who thinks,
who knows what she knows
and also knows how to fly;
a woman sure of herself.
Don’t fall in love with a woman who
laughs or cries making love,
knows how to turn her spirit into flesh;
let alone one that loves poetry (these are the most dangerous),
or spends half an hour contemplating a painting
and isn’t able to live without music.
Don’t fall in love with a woman who is interested
in politics and is rebellious and
feels a huge horror from injustice.
One who does not like to watch television at all
Or a woman who is beautiful
no matter the features of her face or her body.
Don’t fall in love with a woman who is intense,
entertaining, lucid and irreverent.
Don’t wish to fall in love with a woman like that.
Because when you fall in love
with a woman like that,
whether she stays with you or not,
whether she loves you or not,
from a woman like that, you never come back.

Martha Rivera-Garrido

Poetry

    my brain and heart divorced ~ john roedel

    my brain and
    heart divorced
    a decade ago
    over who was
    to blame about
    how big of a mess
    I have become
    eventually,
    they couldn’t be
    in the same room
    with each other

    now my head and heart
    share custody of me
    I stay with my brain
    during the week
    and my heart
    gets me on weekends
    they never speak to one another
    – instead, they give me
    the same note to pass
    to each other every week
    and the notes they
    send to one another always
    say the same thing:
    “This is all your fault”

    on Sundays
    my heart complains
    about how my
    head has let me down
    in the past
    and on Wednesday
    my head lists all
    of the times my
    heart has screwed
    things up for me
    in the future
    they blame each
    other for the
    state of my life
    there’s been a lot
    of yelling – and crying
    so,
    lately, I’ve been
    spending a lot of
    time with my gut
    who serves as my
    unofficial therapist

    most nights, I sneak out of the
    window in my ribcage
    and slide down my spine
    and collapse on my
    gut’s plush leather chair
    that’s always open for me
    ~ and I just sit sit sit sit
    until the sun comes up

    last evening,
    my gut asked me
    if I was having a hard
    time being caught
    between my heart
    and my head
    I nodded
    I said I didn’t know
    if I could live with
    either of them anymore
    “my heart is always sad about
    something that happened yesterday
    while my head is always worried
    about something that may happen tomorrow,”
    I lamented

    my gut squeezed my hand
    “I just can’t live with
    my mistakes of the past
    or my anxiety about the future,”
    I sighed
    my gut smiled and said:
    “in that case,
    you should
    go stay with your
    lungs for a while,”
    I was confused

    the look on my face gave it away
    “if you are exhausted about
    your heart’s obsession with
    the fixed past and your mind’s focus
    on the uncertain future
    your lungs are the perfect place for you
    there is no yesterday in your lungs
    there is no tomorrow there either
    there is only now
    there is only inhale
    there is only exhale
    there is only this moment
    there is only breath
    and in that breath
    you can rest while your
    heart and head work
    their relationship out.”

    this morning,
    while my brain
    was busy reading
    tea leaves
    and while my
    heart was staring
    at old photographs
    I packed a little
    bag and walked
    to the door of
    my lungs
    before I could even knock
    she opened the door
    with a smile and as
    a gust of air embraced me
    she said
    “what took you so long?”

    Poetry