On Heartbreaks, Heart Math, and Finding Hearts

What is a heartbreak? Does a heart really break when a loving relationship dies, or someone really dies and leaves us all alone? California poet, Karineh Mahdessian published an anthology of unhappy love poems by women (including one of mine), and followed it by an anthology of unhappy love poems by men, and is now working on the third anthology of poems written by match pairs, a female and a male poet, that have not met before. The results will be available in a new anthology and we will see where all these heartbreaks take us.

If it is only into whining - "poor me, pity me, my baby left me..." - that's not much of a lesson for the rest of us. "So what..." a bystander could shrug and say, bluntly: "get your act together and find a new love, this is not the end of the world...deal with it..."  But what if it were? What if that unique loving connection of two lovers, their hearts beating in unison, created a higher-level value in the universe, what if stars and galaxies were born of this love?

The Institute of Heart Math tells us that our hearts have so much neurons around them they actually have their own "brains" that are guarding and guiding our bodies, our whole selves, without conscious involvement of the real brain. The rhythm of the heart influences our thinking.

The electromagnetic field created by the heart synchronizes with other hearts and creates a powerful energy field.  The magnetic field of a human heart can be measured several fields from the body. The negative emotions create a chaotic pattern in this field, while positive, calm, loving emotions create a smooth, coherent pattern that leads to wellness. Coherent rhythm of the heart based on positive emotions of happiness, acceptance, love, gratitude, serenity, helps the brain create innovative ideas and make good decisions.

In pursuit of positive energy of the heart, I wrote many blog entries on love, roses, and St. Valentine's Day - and gathered the links on a separate page: Love and Roses.  As a dedicated "love-poetry" writer, I have committed the unforgivable sin, unforgivable, that is, for a professional, academic poet - write about emotion, write about the four-letter word, love... Yet, the proliferation of romance books and country songs tells us something about this "dirty word" that serious academic poets cannot use or reflect about if they want to be taken seriously by other serious academic poems and have their work reviewed in serious academic poetry journals. That is: Love is. Love is a force of life.

No, Love is the force of life. Love is the light of life. Love and Light are intertwined: the more loving you are the more enlightened you become. If you reach true wisdom, you also reach true compassion. It all goes together, intertwined, like the couples of humans melded into angelic creatures of eight limbs floating around in Swedenborg's heaven. The union of opposites, merging compassion into wisdom, love into light.

Before we become any sorts of angels and start floating around in any sort of heaven, there's the earth, the here and now. Here's a multitude of loves to be dealing with: love of mothers, love of fathers, love of children, love of grandparents, romantic love, familial love, compassionate love. Love is the glue that holds society together, from a couple, through family into infinity. We are nothing without love. How then, the all-mighty serious academic poets decided that it is not cool, not appropriate, not done, to be sentimental, to be romantic, to be loving in poetry?

If that's the case, I'd rather be non-serious, non-academic and not-mighty poet. I'd rather write cute little trifles that bring smiles to my readers' faces, that make them say, at the end of the reading sigh, all in unison: aaaahhh... How cute is that! Don't you known that this "aaaahhh" means something good? Better than a chocolate heart? More powerful than a gunshot? This is "heart math" - the focus of thoughts and feelings on the one good thing in this life and in the next: Love. Love itself. Love in us. Love around us. Love.

Kathabela Wilson recently edited a new "Poetry Corner" for the Colorado Boulevard magazine, Reflections on Relationships, and added a fragment of my poem "Adorable" to a set of three reflections on romantic love.  She illustrated her story with two of my "heart" photos - that I have been collecting for quite a while, snapping pictures of various heart-shaped things, from cactus, to spray-painted contours on the sidewalk reproduced above.

Since Kathabela only used a portion of my poem, I thought it would be nice to reprint the whole here, in anticipation of February, the Month of Love.

Adorable

… is the word for you.

Yes, you’ve heard me right.

Like a kitten? More a baby golden lab,

A cuddly puppy with huge chocolate eyes

Looking at me with wild affection.

Excited, impatiently waiting to be hugged.

Adorable – as in the French perfume

“J’adore” – but not the flowery kind,

Rather the musky spice

Of your naked body.

Gentle, shy, hopeful, fit, boisterous, 
Persistent, singing carols out of tune,

With muscles flexing under 
The smooth skin. Ready for the home run.

Nice, not naughty, but nice

Through and through.

How do I know? The word appeared

While I was driving down the Five

At night, dozing off, stopping for naps,

Moving on in a blur of hours, miles,

Hills, exit signs and darkness.

I was rushing to be home

When you called. This word floated up

Through the fog of exhaustion

In the lunar landscape of bare hills

Near Avenal State Prison,

The strange topology of your dreams.

Sensuous, sweet, exotic,
Defiant, witty, bewildering,

Alive, soo alive –

Yes, you’ve heard me right.

I've got just one word for you,

For the whole you –

Adorable

© 2015 by Maja  Trochimczyk  (January 2015)

The Tanka Poets on Site had earlier this month a chance to respond to Kathabela's prompt on "romantic relationships, coupling" - with a beautiful artwork by Susan Dobay.  I wrote another sweet little trifle based on the image of loving bliss that Susan so masterfully captured. 

In the meadow 

sparkling with topaz, 

sapphires and opals

your kiss 

gives me wings

Heartbreaks and Betrayals with Tanka and Madame Butterfly

Here she is, Madame Butterfly, so in love with Mr. Pinkerton, who left her with a baby, and returned with his American wife to claim his son and leave his crying mistress all alone. Susan Dobay's digital integration artwork is inspiring and touching.  Let's see...

Madame Butterfly - by Susan Dobay, 2013

sometimes it comes back

his memory, her softness

their reckless flight

his baby, their child, his firstborn

half-orphan outside

You will be able to see some of this beautiful art at Susan Dobay's next exhibition, "Regeneration" that will be held at the Shumei Hall Gallery in Pasadena and will open on Sunday, April 6, 2014 at 1 to 5 p.m. There will be a concert, too, though not of "Madame Butterfly".... 

Rock Cherries - by Maja Trochimczyk, 2014 

I wrote three tankas for a presentation of Susan Dobay's artwork inspired by Madame Butterfly, Puccini's immortal opera. The presentation, with the accompanying chapbook was one of the string of events associated with the California visit of an extraordinary Japanese poet, Mariko Kitakubo - held at the Altadena Library, and including Mariko's poetry, a segment on Madame Butterfly and Dobay's art, and a Japanese tea ceremony. Since two were included in that performance, I presented the third one here. 

Broken Heart by Maja Trochimczyk, 2014 

Why do we still care about Madame Butterfly? What's most attractive and bewildering in that opera is the perennial conflict of cultures, and betrayal.  The jilted lover commits suicide, like so many others, who could not imagine life alone.  Heartbreak can kill, literally. 

The topic of heartbreak has recently attracted the attention of a young poet, Karineh Mahdessian, who solicited contributions for and published an anthology by women, called "Heartbreak" and featuring "ache" on the cover. There are 80 poems in the book, written by  a diverse group of poets, ranging in age from high school graduates to grandmothers. Some poems are the very first publication of their authors, others are penned by experienced poets and writers with extensive teaching and publication careers.

Karineh's own heartbreaking story inspired her to find compassion and comfort in the words of her spiritual sisters. Her method of compiling the anthology was unusual: she asked poets to send her three poems so she could chose what she liked.  Her choice was only revealed in the final publication. At the reading on March 16, 2014, in La Puente, poets got their copies of the anthology, in burning orange and yellow.

Heartbreak Anthology by Karineh Mahdessian

When leafing through this volume,  bursting with stories of grief and loss about children, mothers, fathers, as well as all sorts of romantic heartbreaks, I realized that my own poem - indeed all poems I sent - were not really heart-breaky at all. It is hard for me to write about things I do not feel and I understood the assignment" to relate strictly to romantic heart-break, as in : </3, or the complaint of a jilted lover. My response to emotional distress of this kind is, by now, of someone who's been there done that, and knows the arts of coping, grounding and self-soothing (or pretends to know).  The point of losing a loved one, or a love interest, is to learn to say, with Hiob, "God has given, God has taken, praise be to God." 

Easier said than done, of course. But ultimately, serenity and contentment are our goals, reached typically in old age. I remember that British study of happiness that discovered that people are the happiest in their seventies, when the ranging storms of passions have passed, the life's work is done, and they spend hours of contentment in their gardens.

New Spring - by Maja Trochimczyk, 2014 

Gardens - the ancient Garden of Eden - the small patio gardens and large botanical gardens - are the true medicine for heartbreaks. Walking, photographing flowers, listening to birdsong, people-watching - all this medicine is contained right there, in the gardens. Those who know how to heal have spent hours digging into the rich dark soil, pulling the weeds out, planting a new flower, a tomato, or a fig tree... Then, they watch the plants grow, and finally enjoy the fruit of their labor - a blossom, a fruit... Perfect! A heartbreak? What was that, again?

Ice Cream Street

Days come and go,

the earth keeps turning.

You left. I am still.

You drive down my street,

come back for another look.

What do you want to see?

Love is not an easy thing

to manufacture.

I make it in large dollops,

served like ice cream

in cups of kindness.

I package it in dulcet tones

of good memories.

It is expensive,

also quite refined.

It is perfect that way.

The world is, too.

Oceans breathe.

Stars do not ask questions.

Night trees sleep

with birds in their branches.

The mountains

 grow more distant,

settling into calm.

(c) 2008, reprinted in Heartbreak from Rose Always (rev. 2011)

Desert Blossoms - by Maja Trochimczyk, 2011

Now, that serenity was not an instant discovery, but a result of years of hard labor. I had to write volumes of distress out of my system first.  Some of this confessional "poetry" is not really of any interest to anyone, except another woman with a broken heart. Somehow, in hindsight, getting these long strings of complaints together seems really selfish. When crying, we do not see the world, for all the tears needlessly spilled.  But at a moment, when the heart is broken, it really seems broken. The world comes to an end. 

As Karineh and her colleagues so eloquently wrote, a heartbreak leaves one feeling literally "broken-apart" - torn and destroyed.  

i entered broken world

i broken entered world

i entered world broken

~  from Karineh Mahdessian's "breaking" in Heartbreak

the words now hardened and metallic in my mouth,

I feel our shared language disintegrating in my hands

dust between the pages...

~ from Alexandra Hohmann's "English Major Breakup" in Heartbreak

the agony of drought
the swagger of flash flood
day after day, no grass

~ from Ruth Nolan's "When Rain Can Kill," in Heartbreak

Fence Geography - by Maja Trochimczyk, 2014

Sometimes, there's a good reason to cry: the mother, child, or husband dies. It does not seem fair. Grief-stricken parent, daughter, lover screams in anguish, gets in a fit of rage, simmers with anger, falls into despair. It is easy to accuse God of being evil at this stage of dealing with a heartbreak. God's indifference... does not God see what's going on? Why is my beloved taken? 

I wrote some of those types of poems after the death of my father who was shot by robbers in his summer home and never recovered, finally succumbing to a long, wound-caused illness.  A bullet tore through his abdomen, spleen, liver, intestines. A miracle he lived through the sepsis. Another miracle: he lived through the multiple surgeries. Seven drains, living on IV food for four months. And then, still alive, a year after that. Through that time, after being released from the hospital, following a six month stay, half of that time in an ICU, he could only eat unsalted mashed potatoes and chicken broth... My mom, who lost one third of her lung to a bullet, cooked and cared for him. His last call: "Majusiu, you would not believe what happened. I changed into a vampire. I live on other people's blood." It turned out his own spine marrow stopped producing red blood cells and he had to have a transfusion every two weeks, and a dialysis, the kidneys were not working either... 

His body fell apart, and our lives fell apart with him. For a long time before that I felt as if I was all splintered inside into a thousand little pieces, pierced by a bullet. On my desk, I even had a hologram of glass breaking apart, forever held together, forever breaking in that image... Then, the bullet, the breaking became a reality.  When I went to an art exhibit at REDCAT once, I saw a mirror mosaic "Resist Resisting God" that did the same to me...

Mirrored by "Resist Resisting God" - by Maja Trochimczyk, 2012

Eloe 6

grief is a thief

and a stupid one at that

he stole your life

when God was not looking

(too busy –

concocting colors

to paint the canyons, stars,

dabbling in sunsets)

(c) 2008, reprinted from Miriam's Iris (2008)

Sunset by Maja Trochimczyk, 2012

There are many kinds of grief and loss, many reasons for heartbreak.  Those caused by others we have no control over: evil neighbors, evil "tribes" - wars, hatred, discrimination, a bullet piercing the skin... Those caused by others we belong with in our immediate communities and families - family disputes, divorces, deaths after a long illness, fading away with cancer...  Those caused by the two persons intimately involved - one person leaves, the other one stays, brokenhearted...

All victims of senseless crime know the first type of heartbreak. The criminal does not know them, yet they suffer, their loved ones die... Here's a different example of the first type of heartbreak, from a post by Carla Tomczykowska, about the family of her husband,a child of a mixed marriage, refugees from Europe: "Polish AND German were his first languages although he was born here. His father, a Polish survivor of Auschwitz, after the war met a German woman and they got married!!!! When they finally settled in the Polish community in Baltimore, she was reviled for her nationality, and as a young boy, my husband suffered from that hatred at the hands of Polish relatives, neighbors and even the nuns at school. This affected him so much, for he loved his sainted mother dearly, that he totally blocked out the Polish language and refused to speak it anymore.... My husband's dilemma as a post-war child was a two-edged sword - he suffered from both being a child of a survivor of a concentration camp (this is a recognized syndrome) and also the stigma (within the Polish community) of being the child of a German woman, being called a 'Nazi.' It has taken him all these years to recognize and deal with these traumatic emotions formed in his childhood."

This is a peculiar, I'd say "linguistic" variant of the loss suffered by refugees and displaced persons around the world. They were not welcome where they went after their homes were destroyed and their lives broken. Not this kind of loss... 

The Heartbreak anthology does not go into these sorts of heartbreaks - consequences of war, famine, crime, natural disasters, floods and fires. Instead, the stories in Heartbreak are about human grief over human loss of just one person, a loved one: a daughter, son, mother, father. The loss of a love. A lover who left, a husband who was not faithful, a child who will not send a mother's day card. 

Mother's day

an empty mailbox

~ haiku by Jan Benson, from Heartbreak

What do they know?

Do they know your smile, your laugh?

~ from Tairy Barrie's "One Tear" in Heartbreak

While reading about so many passionate, depressed, enraged, and disappointed women, I thought I should at least try and write a truly angry "heartbreak" poem, if only to feel young. But I could not quite feel very serious about it, so it came out as a comedy of errors. Enjoy!

The End

I imagined you dead

and me, your widow

dancing in black veils

purple lipstick, amethyst

nail polish.

But you lived.

You came back to stab me,

pour salt water 

on my wounds.

Enough. Dosyc. Basta.

I can't stand seeing you

laughing at my weakness.

Unexplained.

Unforgiven.

I hang my bra 

on my bathroom door.

I pull a blanket 

over my head.

Listen to a chorus of frogs

pairing in the wet darkness

of spring chaparral

Enough. Dosyc. Basta.

It will dry out. 

There will be fire.

It will turn into charcoal,

flames dancing 

with the shadows

on the rim of the valley - 

dying, gasping

with the last breath

of my love.

(c) 2014 by Maja Trochimczyk

Imprisoned Heart - by Maja Trochimczyk

... like a long trail 

that they leave on

me ripping 

open my 

wounds once

again

~ from Toti O'Brien, "Queen of Hearts" from Heartbreak