The Soul’s Arsonist

Prevaricating bushes lie low,
singeing an edge round his soul.
Apples hold secrets like forests hold trees
deep in the husk of their seeds.

Tracks in the cracks
of his memory’s files—
a mess too complex
to unravel.

Serpents still tempt him
and steal his intention,
splitting his answers
down forks in his tongue.
They snake through branches in bushes
as he douses the branches in gas.

He thinks about playing with matches
and laughs, losing his pale to the glow—
to the flickering trail of lies that writhes
at the edge of his deep apple soul.

Damming its freedom to flow,
oh yeah,
he damns its freedom to flow.

Brenda Warren 2013

Visit The Sunday Whirl

Visit The Sunday Whirl

Note:  The word “class” from the wordle, did not make an appearance in my piece this week.

22 thoughts on “The Soul’s Arsonist

  1. I agree this flows so gracefully, even though the subject matter is dark. Well done, Brenda. I am now just getting round to read everyone, yesterday was incredibly busy for me. Aren’t we supposed to relax on Sundays?



  2. I loved the rhythm of the words in their association with each other it really bounced along. But how I hated the character you portrayed. Here in Australia we have so many demented arsonists that set fires when the trees and ground cover are like tinder.


  3. hi brenda, enjoyed the poem and thought I missed a wordle, so … I wrote a poem also using these words tonight. I have really enjoyed trying to copy the previous wordles and using them as writing prompts as well. Thanks so much for your talent and your encouragement and inspiration.


share your thoughts

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s