Poetry Playground | Jonny Masters | Prose | Happiness
I’ve Lost My Heart
And have started to think where that could have happened.
It’s the kind of voice that echoes in your head when confusion sets in.
‘Where’d you leave it, lad?’
I thought about that. It could have been on the bench on the quayside at Tobermory Harbour. I always had it there, among the cigarette stubs, and fishermen laughing. But no. I never left it there.
I’ve sailed on all but one ocean and though I may have left my stomach on any one of them, I never left anything else. I always brought it home, heartbroken sometimes, and torn.
Sitting here now, shoes off and smelling a little, I find comfort in wondering where I actually left it. It’s not the kind of thing I can talk to my pals about. My pals are for drinking with, nasty jokes, and opening my pants to pee alongside. How do you think they would react, asked the question? Well, I can tell you: after throwing up, they’d pat me on the back, knuckle my brass ribs, and tell me I’m pissed!
That said, and I understand your thinking, but no, I never left it in any pub or with any longtime friend.
The voice in my head became increasingly irritable.
‘So, you don’t know; you haven’t the faintest idea, have you?’
The truth is, my friends, I could have left it in a multitude of places, yet somehow, after thinking about it, I realize that I had it most everywhere.
I had it when I stayed at The Hyatt Regency Hotel in Jerusalem, for example. Yes, for sure I had it there. It would be hard to think of not having it overlooking ‘No Man’s Land’ from my room. Hearing the soldiers laughing at the idea of unity with the Palestinians. The sadness of that laughing hit me like a bullet and I left my guts in the toilet.
I thought for sure I’d lost it there in Jerusalem, but then I remember having it in China, among the northern grasses that swayed with the breeze and were as blue as Jade. Lying there I knew I had it safe in the world of emperors, dragons, and birds that flew on wings of gold. Yes, I had it intact in China for sure.
In Tibet, too, where river waters washed away the yellow tide and winter spared nothing. Nothing at all.
Then, yes, back then, I know I had it in Belfast. The man and his daughter, a nurse, and his plea for forgiveness toward those IRA who killed her. I had it that day and it bled red for him.
I had it when I was in the gutter and again when carried on angel's wings.
I had it when eating candy sticks, treading through lightly fallen snow in Glasgow at Christmas.
After that, in Copenhagen, smiling at the Mermaid-on-the-Rock before having dinner with Steve, Knud, and Ruth.
It’s hard to work out just when I lost it.
It was with me that last night with you, I felt it like you can’t imagine. The touching wonderful innocence before I would leave the next day.
I had it working every day to please you.
The voice seemed to instantly recognize the intake of breath that heaved my chest open.
‘So, finally, you remember where you lost it!’
Yes! I lost it to the memory of cheek dimples, wickerwork hair, happy floods of tears, and the strange and beautiful sufferings of grandparenting and togetherness.
I had lost my heart to happiness.
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