Prologue: the poet’s thoughts

All saintly people
help me know I am a pebble in their shoe.
even my angel backs off for a few days.


Possible Part One:

Science calls bullshit
on righteous theories that trot spite
around godless traditions.

Poetic cue:

Self-awareness wrestles with a crack that opens
as tons of water pull roots away from memory
and me-me-me’s heartbeat accelerates
into shimmering droplets of yesteryears
that fade into tracks
held deep within

Bereft of me,
light opens.

Brenda Warren 2015


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8 thoughts on “shimmering

  1. First of all, let me say how friggin’ delighted I am to see this poem. While, i didn’t write one this week, just seeing your poem makes me happy. (I know I am weird). I love the opening, because there is so much truth in it. I have known far too many of those types in my life, in fact I still know a couple. but it is the last stanza the “poetic cue” that struck me. I will contemplate that stanza. An honest piece of writing and I love how you set it up.

    Pamela ox


  2. I love this – it feels like a mix of pushing away the unhelpful and so called saintly people (who rarely are)…and gathering in the light and things which illuminate you… hold tight to your angel…


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