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Sara Coslett

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  Lost in the Current
by Sara Coslett
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Rated "G" by the Author.

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Recent poems by Sara Coslett
•  Unfunny God
•  Terminating Failure
•  desire you
•  Standing By
•  To love . . .
           >> View all 671

Where does ones soul reside: Heart or head?

You think...if only you could control your heart through the proper management of your head, or the way the world treats it; then you could be ruler of your soul. Because sometimes you encounter people whom you belong to, who possess you so completely; that the only thing you hear blaring in your head is the way of your heart. And then you cry, because your soul is yours to keep. Right? Not belonging to anyone, but always giving to everyone. And yet, you can't seem to make that so. No matter how long, how old, how hard you try...because you just can't fucking see.

So you take your head, and you take your heart, and you tear it apart. What else would a control freak do? Inside you see control has written to your head, wild freedom is in the heart. The head keeps on playing a tune of caution, the heart pounds out a hypnotic rhythm of...well, ache. Within the four quadrants...longing, beating, longing, dreaming. It never stops. It can't. Ache, ache, ache, ache.

And when you think you've got it all figured out; when you think your heart has found it's way; someone's head, maybe yours, intervenes...and shuts all hearts down. And you look for answers in your soul, finding turmoil lurks in the innocuous current between heart and head, and your soul drowns.

2006 Sara Coslett

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Reviewed by Andre Bendavi Benyehu (Reader) 10/9/2008
"Lost in the Current" is a literary jewel set with brilliant cut flawless diamonds (Words.) to shine on the romantic pages of the twenty-first century.

In admiration,

Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
Reviewed by Franz Kessler 2/6/2006
Don't get desperate, Sarah. You'll be popping up like the cork that fell into the champagn glass. I always respect your sense of honesty and truthfulness, such as in your above writing. Our life often feels like a raft in the rapids with a broken rudder, leaky tanks, and perhaps a drunken captain. Ther'is only so much we can control, and perhaps humor is the best answer. Love, Franz
Reviewed by Paul Williams 2/6/2006
Throw that soul an existential life-belt; a superb questioning piece Sara, powerful and compelling.

Reviewed by Mr. Ed 2/6/2006
No matter how long, how old, how hard you try...because you just can't fucking see.

Now this is a poem, and that is one intriguing graphic, Sara.
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader) 2/6/2006
Like Sage's tail-eating snakes, it is a not-so-merry, merry-go-round, this looking for luv, love.
Reviewed by Bobbi Duffy 2/5/2006
The heart does more than beat out the rhythm of life as it pumps blood, it has and existential element that is totally elusive. Like the soul it is everywhere and no where. You have written a piece that explores the great question of life. Good Job!

Reviewed by jude forese 2/5/2006
excellent existential blast of a heart gone nihilistic ...
Reviewed by Felix Perry 2/5/2006
Ahhhh this is so true, where does the heart reside, surely not in the mass of blood and tissue that beats in the human chest. Like the soul it is elusive taken for granted it is there but where is there? I wonder where the origins of the idea that love dwelt in the heart came from...the only conclusion I can draw is that the end of love can be so painful that it is like the end of life and so the heart must control it.

Reviewed by Tinka Boukes 2/5/2006
Thank you for sharing this most powerful and deep introspective well written masterpiece!!
I think I know what it's like to be totally screwed in mind heart and soul...sis!!
But thank GOD for little miracles...Light came my way and opened my heart to more understanding...what the meaning of love is!!
Your picture...the spitting image og me life at one stage!!

Take care Sara...and God bless!!

Love Tinka
Reviewed by Sandie Angel 2/5/2006
Just to show that some of the turmoil were self-made. Good write, Sara!

Sandie May Angel a.k.a. Sandie Angel :o)
Reviewed by E T Waldron 2/5/2006
This stirs all the senses Sara!Superb write! The thought came of St Augustines words "The heart is restless till it finds its home in Thee!" I believe that to be true. They say there's a place in us made for god to fit and if it remains empty, so will we. Just sharing some thoughts;-) Eileen^
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 2/5/2006

You've penned a deep, thought provoking write, fraught with an undercurrent of sadness which somehow makes sense. I wish I knew--mine are both screwed up.

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
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