And like broken glass
The secrets intensify.
The vulnerability of time.
Both beautiful and sad.
The sound of broken glass.
Despite how beautiful the shards sparkle.
Despite time.
You'll never know what's on it's mind.
Hand to glass.
The prints left behind to be washed away.
The memories no more.
How can something so precious be replaced for another.
Thrown away without second thought.
It's cruel, unjust.
No explanation other than physical appearance.
The unhealthiest to cope.
The necessity of momentary need.
Another glass set in it's place.
To feel needed in a moment of thirst.
How we feel about the things we have.
Until we realize the one thing we need.
Almost too late

I'm a tool pondering skyscapes.
Fondling a memory
Left behind
On sunset marquees.
It raced into the horizon like
A toad on the road.
A neon dream waving farewell.

Exploring mindsets:
An act in caressing
Bloodbath tesseracts.
A roundhouse rollercoaster,
Spinning at velocity of perfume
Hitting nasal perforations.

Core memories surface along spine cutlets,
No longer intrinsic
Doubt.
I'm settling for more.
A bathed blue baby is a moment
Too long to endure.

Hindsight is
A parson's lake passage;
A mad monster yet to be tamed;
A grain of salt to a fresh wound made;
Moments of grace from a fake great ape.

Blue morons slide
Into Mormon jovial footsteps.
Derided ice forestry into
King's cloaked ancestry.
Which makes family the
Opposite of attraction.

And yet here I am
Talking to you,
Eyelight through obelisks
In hotbox barricades.
Hiding behind
A past of newspapers.
Headline reads 'ONLY DEVINE'
'TRADE REIGN WARNS JEWELS'
'PRINCE THREATENS ECONOMY
... AND CROWN.'

Wipe the frown,
Draw the sword.
Don't be ignored anymore.

There she stands
cup of coffee on the table
looking around at the flowers and foliage
enjoying this early summer morning in the shade
a wisp of a sad smile
and lines on her face speak a long life.

I wonder where she has been
what waters what deserts or valleys
she has traversed
whose lives she has touched
how many lips she has kissed
whose passing she has grieved.

Now she's gone
but I thank God
for this interlude
with her
as I sit here with my coffee
looking through the window
in the coolness of the condo
writing and listening to guitar
feeling the peace of this morning
and gratitude
for this momentary encounter.

"Momentary Encounter," Copyright 2017 by Glenn Currier

I fought my inhibitions
but nature pulled through

Breaking barriers of what if's
unclothing all those hidden thoughts

Naked and free, I bashfully
bathed in my liberty
succumbing to all things "now"

For I have found beauty
in the "momentary"
and the naturally
inevitable

I found a carving made of wood
A carving I made and
Never really understood
The shape was awfully made
And yet at the time
Emitted an aura that felt good
The raw quality,
The way light fell on it,
At the time I could only think
The carving was perfect,
The way that it stood.

I found a wood carving that I hid
Away from my mind
So that I could bid
Farewell to the misplaced notches and indents
That surfaced on the carving.
Why did I leave pieces here
And cut off parts there?
What experience did I have in carving
Such an obscene piece?
Of myself, the carving, I would rid
But if only I could
Forget what I did
What I carved
What I was amid
But I cannot

The reason I didn't understand
The decisions I made
Was because
I understood the decisions I made.

Every butterfly, knows this in it's inner being
and yet each forgets it, as soon as it starts flying,
the sweet warmth of each flower inviting him,
honey and  nectar abundant in the beginning,
the wind speed  that takes him to the bloom--
such happy things ,soon will become  a dream.

Quite enticing, plush
she is a spectacle,
all the same lacking
substance and depth.
A coffee table book
everyone who is
someone, curiously grab,
turn the pages in a jiffy,
just to feel the gloss
eye the seductive shine
ogle the ostentation,
and caress the pictures
in opulent colors,
then, let go quick
without any qualms.

Throw it back on the table
with a resounding thud
in no time and leave
without even looking back once!

Knuckling under weatherworn predictions, the salt is down. There is a limit to preparedness and at some point, faith that the break shall come to a blizzard's infamy, must supersede. It's just fluff and slush after all. Barely, this white blanketing is made, before the brine trucks are revving, ready to tear up the sheets. Shall I slumber too long, I may miss the hush of placidity. Who will be the first to break silence? That inevitable metal scrape against cement, I dread its' brashness. Can the missies' ice morning not roll by without delusions that these snow damsels must be shoveled off? Let the winter lassies lie for briefness of their coolness brings me to a dream scene. Colleens of a cold front, you blew upon me so softly this way, how dare I snow blow you, away?

For a moment, let’s just…
Stand still
And look around
Watch the birds fly
Or hear the rustle of autumn leaves
Or let the deafening silence reign

For a moment, let’s just…
Stand by the sea
And enjoy the waves
Crash against the rocks
And let us do nothing
But watch the bubbles disperse
Never to be found again.

For a moment, let’s just…
Blink our eyes
Ever so quick
Repetitively
And what forms?
In front of our eyes
The image we see
Is a broken one
Or perhaps just dark is all we see
What can we make of it?

For a moment, let’s just…
Let  a moment pass
In solitude
Where you get
To know nothing, no one,
And yet you know
You are everything there is,
And will be.

I realize we were like flame.
With a single spark,
suddenly it was warm and bright.
But just like fire,
a simple blow of the wind
made everything dark and cold.
There was never really something special,
but the fleeting and tepid moments ablaze. Now what remain are the burnt parts
and the things
that will never be the same again.