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Glenn Currier Oct 2021
Isn’t it strange
how in this brief exchange
of the creative impulse
we gain
a certain kind of intimacy
with each other
yet we never
smell each other
shake hands
breathe the same air
put up with personal idiosyncrasies
and off-putting voice inflections –
all the things our friends and loved ones have to.

Yet here we occupy hearts and minds
many of our friends and loves do not know
with such closeness, interiority, and connectedness.

What a strange and magnificent gift!
I wrote this after reading several poems of my friends here on this wonderful website. I got to thinking about how I address many of you as "my friend," and I really feel a friendship with you, yet we have never met face-to-face in the flesh. How sweet it is!
Glenn Currier Jan 2021
I have spent so much energy, time and money
avoiding pain
not realizing that it is a gift
its own reward
only earned
by enduring it
securing it

Can’t get it just by sitting

But I can earn it
by listening
The crime
is not taking time
pain is earned
with time spent
with the climb
into someone’s tortured heart.

Pain must not be spurned
it must be earned.
Author’s Note: With gratitude to Jason for his poem, “Chained,”
Janna B Dec 2020
This feeling that I’m feeling
Is like a hole
Or a sore spot that I keep poking
Or a memory that I reflexively
bring up
Again and again.

It feels like a disability today
I can’t be a normal human today
I will take one day to
honour what we had,
grieve the loss (again),
note the closure, and,
hopefully -
rise stronger and move forward.
Glenn Currier Oct 2020
This place is an oasis
in the midst of loneliness.
How could I be so lonely
while wrapped in your embrace?
For the poets on HePo
tl b Dec 2016
I would take to the lake.
Try to clear my head.
My boy, he liked coral pink.
And oh did his heart sink.
I took to the lake.
Oceans were too far away.
We shifted and we swayed.
Not today.
Couldn't stay.

— The End —