Chimney Flues

fog in the dark - 

defines the untouchable 

- the invisible

- the unknown

nothingness is heavy

upon my soul

-stolen by the demons

of the night

The Untrustworthy Speaker - Louise Gluck

Don't listen to me; my heart's been broken. I don't see anything objectively. I know myself; I've learned to hear like a psychiatrist. When I speak passionately, That's when I'm least to be trusted. It's very sad, really: all my life I've been praised For my intelligence, my powers of language, of insight- In the end they're wasted- I never see myself. Standing on the front steps. Holding my sisters hand. That's why I can’t account For the bruises on her arm where the sleeve ends . . . In my own mind, I'm invisible: that's why I'm dangerous. People like me, who seem selfless. We're the cripples, the liars: We're the ones who should be factored out In the interest of truth. When I'm quiet, that's when the truth emerges. A clear sky, the clouds like white fibers. Underneath, a little gray house. The azaleas Red and bright pink. If you want the truth, you have to close yourself To the older sister, block her out: When I living thing is hurt like that In its deepest workings, All function is altered. That's why I'm not to be trusted. Because a wound to the heart Is also a wound to the mind.

April - Louise Gluck

No one's despair is like my despair--

You have no place in this garden
thinking such things, producing
the tiresome outward signs; the man
pointedly weeding an entire forest,
the woman limping, refusing to change clothes
or wash her hair.

Do you suppose I care
if you speak to one another?
But I mean you to know
I expected better of two creatures
who were given minds: if not
that you would actually care for each other
at least that you would understand
grief is distributed
between you, among all your kind, for me
to know you, as deep blue
marks the wild scilla, white
the wood violet. 


i love this poem so much..it is so beautiful. former poet laureate louise gluck...she is a masterpiece <3

Insurance

ah yes...sadly, this poem degrades in quality after the first two stanzas....sniff.

I do not need assurance,

nor do I need your smile,

I defy all petty insurance,

I can save myself for a while.

My superstar will come one day;

Perfection coupled with incompletion,

Beautiful, blessed - as they say

Incompletion, upon first sight, will achieve its

mind deletion.

You.

With your pitiful assurance,

is this the best you can do?

Insecure, clammy hands-

-oh you, I see your

fragile, desperate self-esteem.

That.

over there...

You say...they

make you?

How much, I ask you,

Do you really know?

I mock your empty, flimsy words,

I scorn your false, foolish promises.

Broken, empty, and unforgiven.

Pure love waits

For those who wait.

And hence, I shall wait

& defy all this meaningless insurance.

So no, thank you,

You may keep your heart,

I want no part,

In this stupid game.

I'll keep my incompletion,

and wait for-

-my super star completion.

mr. suave, mr. cool

you

turn your face

so sharp your jaw

so sharp

your wit-so sharp your-

step.

ambiguous mr. cool

shines his shoes and clicks his heels-

the smooth boy dashing charm.

mr. suave spins his quarter

across diner counters

the waitress spills

the noon coffee

on the overheated mug

burning like her blush.

he smirks a lazy grin.

mr. suave

mr. cool

what

is

it

that

makes

you

a

classic?

Childhood

Disappointment clouds their faces,

ages them till furrows appear, crestfallen -

I bow my head and weep with shame.

A tear trails down my cheek-

Like a child, I bite my lip and try not to cry--

-how foolish a tear.

And like a child, it does not listen.

Traitorously betraying my guard,

Quivering along my trembling mouth

-oh that hateful tear.

Please catch my trailing tear,

and hold it in your hand.

Smooth out the wrinkle of my failures.

Dear God, I need you here-

-to catch my traitorous, trailing tear.

Face the Music

Paralyzingly sweet and sad,

I turn my head from the inevitable.

Rip my heart

Out of my chest

And hold it in your hand.

My heart beat’s idle spastic rhythm

Parallels itself with your footsteps

As you approach me

I wish to reach out to you.

But yet I turn away,

Too scared to face the music

The moment where I confess all to you

I cringe away from the possibilities

Infinite yet fathomless

In between those precious moments

happy birthday Dee Dee!

Glacial Freeze

Time has unfrozen-

melting seconds ooze

in liquid ice

upon your languid tongue

which is mute

as words dance away on the pine

covered trees.

A shock of beauty

pierced your frosted heart

brittle as the bare bone

softening the impenetrable facade.

Glacial freeze,

slow to run in

the spring fresh river

---the waves of time.

May we chill the trembles

of the clock?

Can we stop up the bottle of change

which has broken

in shards of diamonds?

Doors

A door shuts slowly

the shadow replaces the light, leaving the room in darkness.

On the other side, one slams open

and light blinds the room with blinding glare.

As I offer, I take.

I arrive and I leave

the companionship

of new and old.

Coming back, for certain

As who - I don't know.

But I leave with malaise -

at loss and confused.

Who am I to please?

Who am I to be?

The rush of it, the glare, may blind me forever

But as my eyes adjust

I hope to find beauty

So I take the chance.

A goodbye

And a hello.

A door shuts

And a door opens.

Does it please you?

Dusty concrete stretches for eternity,

Our past revealed in the glaring sun.

You bare your heart, all's said and done,

Oh the inevitable-evitable, changing it is long past.

Sandy wind, grain by grain,

entangled in the web of complications.

Distractions, the weaving's stopped.

Loom silent, in awe of one.

Speck by speck, our memories fly,

what was & what is...distinguishing

between is what we call impossibility.

Boundaries drawn; I am alone.

A falling leaf

- the sign of change.

Does it please you?

Or is it simply moving on?

I am strong,

the other is not.

She needs you here,

And I...well...not as much.

You make excuses for her,

I stand fully judged.

I let you go,

And consequently, you let me.

Does it please you?

---the changing winds...

Or is it simply moving on?

Because sometimes, my unoccupied self has not.