#ambiance
while grabbing my pens
for the upcoming class,
i see that almost all of them
have a missing piece.
that is due to my habit
of chewing on
their plastic shells.
when i see someone
in which hope leads me
knowingly
onto stress
and heartbreak,
its like i wish to
open wide
and grasp my round
and dull teeth
onto a piece of their soul
a piece i truly will never have.
what does it mean to miss
the smell of grass and mildew
among the sunny days of childhood?
where my friends were bark and leaf
and seemed to give so much
a small child could ever wish for?
do i need to be completed?
or am i just
a missing piece
of a bigger mosaic?
Apr 22
Apr 22, 2026 at 2:51 PM UTC
The lake donned lily pads like brocade. The gossamer blades of grass sparkled with dew that fell like crystalline tears. Diaphanous clouds drifted lazily across a rose painted sky. The ambience of it all caught my breath. With the steady hum of the cicadas mingled with the resonance of the hummingbird perched on the dogwood tree, I was utterly transfixed.
May 21, 2020
May 21, 2020 at 8:23 AM UTC
[Ambiance: the atmosphere of an environment; a surrounding influence]
The smoke drifts over the audience,
the piano, the throaty singer and the sax
permeate the room with a jazzy ambiance.
My nerves vanish in the vibe, and I relax.
I enter the parlor to a flower-scent rush
there’s solemn gloom in the room for the viewing
I hear sniffles and mourners speak in a hush,
the ambiance here shaded with blueing.
The senses soak up the atmosphere.
Smells, sounds, touches, and sights
on the outside penetrate like a spear
take us down or ****** us to the heights.
Every day every inch of the way
is a new journey. I can choose my stance,
embrace the unexpected and pray
for openness and grace in my internal ambiance.
“Internal Ambiance,” Copyright © 2017 by Glenn Currier
Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 9:51 AM UTC
Un-relentlessly beaconing to us with the ebb and flow of passing time,
Lake Winnipeg crashed against her rocky shoreline.
Creating harmonious ambiance for the star struck budding lovers lost in each others eyes.
Oh contingency, lock your hands with fate.
Make this moment surpass even time.
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 9:24 AM UTC
I can't shake it off,
The smudge and smog
That entire field of orange, yellow, and red dots
Around my my pulse strapped tight knots
A mirage of wondrous fabrics
Fabricated dense goose bumps
Or this instant of brief flicks
of putting myself in a stagnant lump
Yet I grow unsettling and raving hands
To move and continue
and wield that feeling
into times' ceaseless sands
When balmy ending waves to past
All that's left is to shower tears
To the azure day and star-bright dusk
and peer back,
into old harmonious muted years
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 4:46 AM UTC