neil and massey hall – May 10, 2011

and he sat there
with my heart
in his hands
a guitar and its man

first time we met
ambling around
slowly, slowly –
as if past 2:00a.m.
in his living room
between songs

he ambled
to the next guitar
the next song
the guitars rang
like peeling bells
the best the goodest bells

massey hall
is really an ancient aztec temple
brought to Toronto
by montezuma
on a space ship
in revenge – for cortez
a gift to the iroqois

our whole story
in a song
such a big bright
bell noise
loving me
and nailing me down
to home
by Davenport that ancient Algonquin trail

peeling guitar bells
from long before birth
across my life
into the future
and after death’s death

my heart silent
like a sleeping baby
in his hands
seeing things
unknown yet knowing

this is not a place
for the faint of heart
or harvest moons
but for the wounded
the damaged
learning how to heal

walk with me
walk with you

and when it was all done
i woke up to find
i forgot my heart
i’d left it down by the river
so i went back

to massey hall
looking for my heart
in the middle of the stage
a little to the left

my heart was not there
a butter tart – he left there

i sat on the edge of the stage
swinging my legs
and all his words were hanging in the air
just for me and me alone
in my temple right here at home
as i ate my heart, my butter tart

and all that poured out
was sweet love
there was no blood at all
just light

Renuka Mendis – May 12, 2011


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