Naked Reflections Poetry: Shameless and Unapologetic

Stream of Unconscious Truth

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sparkle shore

This poem doesn’t have to make sense

It is mine

You, willing observer

of my subconscious tableau,

take snapshots of what is real to you

But know nothing

even resembling the truth.

My truth.

Angels danced on waves last night

and carried a melody to my ears.

A woman’s pink bandanna covered her cancer

but pain shouted through her eyes

shallow, searching, sad.

One hungry man got a free book from me today

His mind was starving more than his stomach.

I could not give him a dollar

My change is not spare

But I freely gave him my words and my gift.

The soles of her shoes, worn down

Like the body she dragged with them

But her heart beat stronger than mine.

Whatever hides under his hat

Sails on ocean currents

and washes up on foreign shores

deserted islands

where the story

resounds in drum beats

in wrinkled brows

where truth

tells itself through pained whispers

and weighted cries.

My poem is my story


but it happened

so it is.

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