Michele Brenton's Poetry Blog.

Rub out and start again.

“You did what now?
How many people?
You are kidding me right?
Stop there for a moment while I take this in.
This is going to need some time for me to digest.”

The shimmering hologrammatic representation of the Great One
sitting quietly – hands steepled beneath chin,
eyes half-closed, lips unsmiling and down-turned.

The holy scientists waited. It had taken many years to reach this point
a combination of gene manipulation and spacio-time engineering,
they could wait longer.

Many hours passed.
Crowds gathered.
The image of the Great One was beamed
across the planet.
The biggest reality
on screen ever.

Eyes opened. Tears fell.
The lips parted.
The head thrown back.
And a scream –
across the universe,
across time,
across humanity,
“Noooooooooooooo!”

And everything folded in on itself
as the Great One said firmly,
“Let me try this again,
I think I can get it right this time.”

written in response to the Wednesday prompt at Writers Digest Poetic Asides BLog by Robert Brewer. The prompt being to write an interview poem.

Tender memories.

This is a tough one
how to explain a life with someone
who never remembers?
Or more accurately sometimes does
but in fits and starts
and how that constantly breaks my heart.

Because I'm like an elephant
everything sticks.
I remember a film from a line overheard
a book from ten years ago,
every moment we've shared
each word and the way it was spoken
but I live in a world where a promise is broken
or rather it isn't quite because can you call it a promise
if the person who made it forgets its conception?
Not in a way that can find recollection
the data is gone it's gone.

Every day is a new day, a new beginning
which sounds rather lovely and full of hope.
I carry our history, treasure it carefully,
curate our necessary frequent contracts,
there has to be trust, because I am the only
person who tells of the things that have been.

And this is the way we have been forever,
I tell you the story you follow directions,
we laugh and we love and we have new adventures
and I tell them to you so you don't lose the moments.

I sit in my bedroom and I travel in time
and scents and sounds and feel of the air
and sun on my skin and I'm there
while I'm here
and I cry for the you
who will never be able
to hold onto a moment and love it forever.
So I'll love it for both of us,
I'll love us for both of us,
and that will have to be enough, forever.

Michele Brenton 11th September 2012