Tag Archives: Glass
Again With Gravity
Happiness takes its leave
Executed
As a tablecloth trick
By an amateur
Sudden
Noisy
Hope, desire and promises
As silver, crystal and china
Lose
Clashing again with gravity
The guy in the bow tie
His lovely assistant
The only half-expectant spectators
Shake their heads
Murmur something and linger
But they do move on
The curtain falls
Only I remain
Needing to know
What went wrong
Who’ll clean up this mess
Am I the only soul
Who stood in earnest?
Glass Gold Poets
You’ll be frozen in time
And if the past may serve
As an indication
I’ll be hurled forward, upward
With lightning’s speed
I at ninety-something years
And you at something less
(Though an old soul nonetheless)
Staring at my golden scraps
Through your monocle glass
What words are we, then
What sounds, what sights
What wrongs did we choose to correct
What hands did we not fail to hold
What love, of only this, I’m sure
cinderella
Fall away
All the ways
They think
You think
They think
Of you
Stand down
The put-down
Of lies from without
Lying within
Minds lying
To you
verity
There’s a grittiness first
A glassiness next
And the thought of its haunting doesn’t deterThe almost too-sweet
Yet the never-enough
Residue on the fingers proves there is more to come
Boston Block
The walk upstairs to the house of old
Revealed
A welcome sensation
For an instant I longed
To receive its four pillars -columns standing true, proud
As my own
The chipped whitewash there and warped, seeded glass panes
Endeared me more, if possible
Than the western orientation, southern gardens and Boston Block
My four-legged friend thought to stay
At last!
But inside, too-small appointments
Shifting Glass: A Haiku
None ebony plan
Do you have for where I ache
Sing me then to sleep
Glass Promise: A Haiku
All I can ask you
For God’s sake please do grow up
For your sake grow up
It won’t come to pass
Neither the song nor the dance
Played out in your head
Those weren’t your slippers
That was not your glass carriage
That was not your crown
You asked a promise
I’ll give you this: keep walking
The music will come
This Haiku: The Phonebooth
i see black n white
i see what should be secret
i see palms on glass
