Revelation
During service last Sunday,
the sun bent light through stained glass
God whispered the latest gossip
between my Father and Death
When I departed, morning glories
were in full bloom
Vigil
Peter’s denial
is again in our hearts
hands cold,
no fire to warm them
We soldier on,
asking each passer-by
why are we
so lonely?
After the Rock is Rolled, Joesph goes Home
After the Rock is Rolled, Joesph goes Home
This is the way you will now travel
through the world. On tired feet,
on arrangements of your bones.
You will occupy your clothes
and the space around your clothes.
You will walk on the tops of your sandals,
your fingers will poke through frayed pockets.
Deep inside your body there will be disasters.
All around you the people you know will die.
You will spend your limited supply of minutes
lying in the dark, inside of things: rooms, buildings,
atmospheres because there is no longer an outside.
Lutes play. The teeth in the back of your mouth hurt,
and the fact there is richness in certain death is all
you will really know
for the rest of your life.
Tim J Brennan’s poetry can be found in many nice places including Twig, Up North, The Lake (U.K.), SDSU’s Oakwood, KAXE public radio, Volume One, Barstow & Grand. Brennanis a two time winner of the Talking Stick poetry prize. Brennan’s one act plays have played across the USA, including nice stages in Milwaukee, Colorado Springs, Ypsilanti MI, Waxhaw NC, Taos NM, Chagrin Falls OH, and most recently in Lexington KY, and also in England & Mexico.
PAROUSIA Magazine 