"glacier" poems
cedar planks line the dim lit hall
morning snow begins to fall
sepia print in a chipped wood frame
embers spark from the franklin flame
rustling sounds from bunks below
records play in a tight alcove
bacon grills on an iron sheet
gloves are warmed by baseboard heat
bean bags tossed on colored ****
papka placed as a punching bag
red brick wall with mounted poles
windows filled with glacier bowls
whiskey jack on the southern rail
a frozen patch of wine and ale
pine cones fall in gathering white
brothers bathed in firelight
sleighs are on the table top
canyon road is at a stop
northern winds that bite the face
lines are up the gondola base
cornice clipped by gully goats
the rubber man appears to float
alpine depths are on the rise
peaking sun through parting skies
triple ropes and nordic luge
honored guests from baton rouge
gelande jumps on rainbow drive
nostalgia’s light and warm reply
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 5:50 PM UTC
I had
drowned in
those ocean currents
they call eyes.
Slipped away,
not a word outspoken.
Strangled with glacier hands,
fingertips of salt and
thunder cottoning my
eardrums.
You wanted to save me,
but I could not tell you
over the salt eroding
my throat,
that you were the one drowning me.
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 11:33 PM UTC
For Helene.
Ashes on the water, now.
Love's bones like dust downstream.
At least it got to see itself in our eyes,
Feel itself between hand holding hand
And whispered caresses.
From pillow talk to fists raised at
Concerts, glasses of Portuguese wine
On her balcony to the sound of magpies
We named our neighbours.
We were beautiful.
Began beautifully.
Ended gracefully.
I open hands that held hers and see
Nothing but skin worn by labour,
And air.
Ashes on the water, now.
Embers without a chance against rivers
Cold with melted mountain snow and
Unyielding differences.
Some loves drown with lungs too full
To cry; others float like a funeral-pyre-
Longboat into the night, ablaze.
King and queen, hand upon hand.
Crowns tied from fresh flowers,
We were beautiful.
Began beautifully.
Slid apart the way a glacier parts from
The hills; slowly, but with the force
Of its thousands of tons.
Ashes on the water,
Where the ghost of our union rests
Underneath the surface of our memories.
I will remember you.
Until the stars burn out, raining the
Dust of themselves like snow upon
These waters that always are moving.
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 5:08 PM UTC
As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.
And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
"Love has no ending.
"I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,
"I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.
"The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world."
But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
"O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.
"In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.
"In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.
"Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver's brilliant bow.
"O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you've missed.
"The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.
"Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.
"O look, look in the mirror?
O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.
"O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart."
It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.
9.4k
I want you to put me on your tongue and let me dissolve into you like the tiny white squares that turn those glossy hazel marbles into black holes and intense stares. I want you to kiss me and see negative colored rulers in the corner of your vision and I want you to have trouble making a decision between kissing me and observing me while I'm sitting on your chest and I want you to laugh like you did with your cherry colored lip curled over your childish grin over and over and over again and I want you to forget the conversation topic every time you close your eyes because the world inside of your mind is filled with blinking images that you can't quite explain aloud so you settle for little talks about Rosa Parks and Indian style kisses and how the ocean is the Earth's thing or the complexity of butterfly brains and whether or not they remember their caterpillar memories (they do). Describe to me the first time you saw your favorite color and what developed the affinity for it: yours, a glacier blue toy that resembled the ocean and mine, a lavender Easter dress that twirled when I spun. Tell me about your school crushes when you were four and what you got your clothespin moved to the sad face for and I'll write it all in ink on my knee caps because "God, we're such writers" and you'll check the clock in the gaps and search for tunes or lighters and I'll want time to slow down because the nights spent with you usually seem as though minutes are just a few seconds shy of sixty, which turns the little hand pretty quickly.
I want hours, weeks, decades, to analyze the freckles on your face or the pace at which you move your tongue and precisely how it tastes.
I want you to tell me that your brother would like me and about the mountains in Tennessee and maybe next time I'll try to stay awake, unless you want to listen to the way I breathe so fully when I dream.
When I close my eyes, I want to be able to see what you see.
I want you to keep burying the numb parts of you into the warm parts of me.
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 4:32 AM UTC
Tired of the ways of men
Desperately I turned toward nature
I watched a butterfly ascend
Yet I'm a different nomenclature
Of a solemn glacier
Standing on my own
In an arctic cone
Not protected by the ozone
So I search for a new home
But can only find loans
My venture for my own real estate
Exposed me to the realest hate
I'm the roaming gnome
With a groaning tone
All alone
With a roaming phone
So I can't call home
My will I leave
When still I see
A killer bee
Filling me
Willingly
Its invasion's
Abrasions
Left a sensation
With a duration
Of unending inflation
On a descending station
Of no impending relation
I felt the nature
Of a desolate crater
When I met a great hater
Who told me to get straighter
So I could be a steel freighter
Carrying my load on my back
Without polluting the air
I decided to cut him some slack
Forgiving his impossible dare
I must gather grace
At a faster pace
To finish this race
Of a top notch
Hot crotch
Stopwatch
Ticking down
Into the ground
Without a sound
Or warning
Of acid rain forming
Until I see myself melting
From the savage belting
Of your death sting
You called the best thing
Like a divine blessing
Only seen after **********
Like a politician deflecting
For the constituents electing
To forego dissecting
The issue at hand
By not taking a stand
My world is crumbling
Because of you
And myself stumbling
In society's glue
As the sky is tumbling
I see I'll lose
Yet instead of rumbling
It's love I choose
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 1:21 PM UTC
I am a Shining Star
Let me Brust
To Decorate Your Sky
I am a Bioling Sun
Let Me Explode
To Light Your World
I am a Wandering Cloud
Let Me Be Your Shield
And Save You From Heat
I am A Glacier
Let Me Melt
And Remove Your Thrist
I Just Want You To Remember My Name
Whenever You Cry With Pain
It Will Rain
I Will Be That Rain
That Will Wash Away All of your Pain
Just Let Me Cry
If That Brings You A Smile
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 11:13 AM UTC
We are a puzzle with missing parts
That is why we make art
It is a healing start
We are all dream chasers
Until pencil meets eraser
Until boat meets glacier
Reality we must face her
When we sacrifice imagination
For societal integration
We search for placation
In lonely play stations
And through vacation
We experience migration
When the results are doubtful
And the response a drought mold
Because people are skeptical
Until there's a shiny scepter sold
Then you're put on a pedestal
And have your pecker pulled
By various industry tools
Loading you like a mule
With expensive jewels
Art must be the only motive
Not climbing any totem
Because once you're dead
Your art can still be read
Audiences may still be fed
But there's a frivolous influence
So you must be vigilant and prudent
To cut that from your life
So art may be your wife
That works to end strife
Yet that kind of help
You can't put on a shelf
I strive to make my art timeless
Though my pockets are dimeless
We live in a world of depression
That carries the risk of regression
My art could help push past it
Now that would be classic
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 5:43 AM UTC
Still I fear
You have little understanding
For how I really feel
Tip of the iceberg?
Baby, you can't even
Comprehend the
Glacier
Underneath
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 9:22 PM UTC
I am the raven,
I eat the dead,
I am the raven,
I remember all things,
I am the raven,
I build all,
I am the raven,
I know all things.
I am the otter,
In rivers and creeks I swim,
I am the otter,
I eat and I play,
I am the otter,
On slopes I slide,
Joy is mine,
In the mountain streams,
I own the rivers,
I feed on their fish.
I am the snake,
The serpent I am,
Between and through move I,
On belly I crawl,
Gold are my scales,
Glacier blue and silver,
All colours they change,
First one then the other,
I taste the air with my tongue,
Through my belly,
I listen to all,
Far craftier than all,
The beast of the field am I.
I am the fox,
The vixon am I,
Crafty and wise,
And hard to catch,
In the ground I live,
Cross the fields I race,
Quick and fast,
I take what I want,
Nothing is safe,
If it I desire,
A vixon am I,
Fleet foot and large tail,
Back and forth it moves,
Grace and escasy,
All come to me,
All I desire.
I am hawk,
I soar and I fly,
Above the plains,
All things I see,
None see what I see,
From up above,
Down I soar,
To **** and eat,
Still on a wire,
Or on a fence,
I know when to wait,
I know when it's time,
When prey is in sight,
Not a second to lose.
I am the vole,
Who lives in the field,
Down in the earth,
I burrow and dig,
Across the field,
All seeds are mine,
To eat and enjoy,
From dusk until dawn,
Timid and cautious,
I look to the sky,
I cannot fight,
I'm weak and I'm small,
But many am I,
And many more come,
And still we will be,
When all you are gone.
I am the owl,
Silent and still,
You know not I passed,
Only my wind,
Silent end deadly,
Queen of the night,
I will consume,
Whatever I catch.
I am the horse,
Across the plains do I run,
Swifter than all,
The one none can catch,
I run like the wind,
For we are one kind,
My mane and my tail,
Like banners and flags,
Nothing can stop us,
Nothing can try,
For we're always moving,
The fast wind and I.
I am the trout,
See how my scales glisten,
I am the trout,
At home in the water,
I swim and I breathe,
What causes others to drown,
I listen to the water,
The rivers, the creeks, the lakes,
The secrets I know,
No others can know.
I am the eagle,
High, high I soar,
Queen of the high places,
All others beneath,
What is not prey,
I care not at all,
I and I only,
See what I see.
But above all tonight,
The fox and vixon am I,
****** and sensual,
Grace and desire,
In the land where the sun sets,
This land that is dusk,
I am all ***
The kiss of the dead,
The dusk sets like dust,
It powders my fur,
In the night do I hunt,
In the night do I *****
My fur is desire,
My tail moves and calls,
I walk here as ***
All come to my call.
~I Am the Fox by Lorekeeper, June 7, 2014
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 4:08 AM UTC
In the divet between mountains
Resides a wooden cabin – ostensibly an amalgamation of the scape
Adroitly - I - quondam female warrior flit
Down massive (ancient) hand-laid, hand-cut carved stone steps
Bounding from contingent step onto the dense pad of turned soil
Tacit compliance between gravity and soil holds footprints bound
A compressed deflating crescendo as pace ignites with bounds
Cadences of protuberant wildflowers and grasses erupt from swollen terra
A winsome chromatic menagerie, dispersed in ecstatic fistfuls
A venerably ancient ritual
My nascent clandestine vocation
Personally meted out - a beatification for my provisional sanctuary
Along glacier-fed stream
Lissome fingers shadow inert stalks –plucking dormant beginnings from their desiccated ligaments
I am austere and unadorned save for a festoon of pyrite flecks trailing my semblance
Residual gilding from my ante-meridian swim taken after requisite gathering of wild blackberries, goose berries, and rhubarb along oft-tamped path
The sun, nestling into its requisite apex endorsed my completion
I reclined into the hassock of soil, feeling the elements settle about with an embossment of my form
Imposing verdure arched subtly as compressed soil beckoned hyperbolic flux
As I lay within the basilica of opulent living columns replete with comestible bounty
Lingering dew honed inflections of sacrosanct petrichor in unison with piquant clover
Wild purple clover buds saccharinely tinted and inundated nestled nerves in mine cribriform plate
Birds pitched and galloped through the frond tips and beyond in the lapis expanse
Frequently snatching damselfly’s and assemblages of midges from their ephemeral drift
Auspicious rays transcended stippled diaphanous gravid clouds
Light inundated ether entered humbly into the cathedral oculus
Pyrite speckled terrain beneath, and my bare gilded form above
Cast a refracted aura about my sanctuary
Precipitously the elusive vaporous embankment distended further
Ashen atmospheric correspondence inaugurated liquescent sustenance to my mountain abode
And I -
Lingered beneath the descending gobbets, curls furled in a puddle
Fresh topsoil cupping my corporal topographic contours
Pressing blackberries into my mouth between smiles
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
It shifts, dual purpose,
Illusions, truth,
Mirages in deserts,
Purity, the stream of life,
It flows, it flows.
The young lady, she stands there,
Her voice muffled in the silence,
She says something but not a sound escapes,
I take her hand and,
She guides me through this crevice,
Between reality and spirituality,
A key between the black door and the white door,
A way out of the waiting room,
She guides me.
Trees a burning gold,
Everything is connected,
Branching out into infinity,
I walk until the path leads me,
To the two rivers in the seam,
I stand in between.
Silence.
What does it mean?
Perhaps an exaggerated dream,
Foreshadowing,
Of what is yet to come.
I walk, and walk,
She guides me,
The deer wanders,
Behind unboundedly,
Liberated, not a care,
Time is an illusion.
We walk until we stop,
My legs like fluid,
No restraint,
A body of water,
Made from the purest glacier,
Connecting from the two rivers,
Understanding.
A towering mountain stands,
King of everything.
Dipping my face in the water,
Rejuvenation and comprehension arrive,
I see a peek of truth at the bottom,
Swim down but I am stuck,
It's not my time.
I surface as she takes my hand,
We walk down the path,
So inebriated with the vision,
Unaware of the avalanche,
Everything collapsing,
Falling, falling, crashing,
I am not to grasp it yet.
A taste of possibility,
The perfect amount of tranquility,
The Creator poured just enough of each ingredient,
A glimpse of what I need to change.
I take the first step into the last days,
A different man.
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 3:07 PM UTC
I met a shell of a mountain who knew she was finished
claimed she grew up from a grain of sand
with every year wider she bloomed a little bit longer
to the roof of the sky with outstretched hands
she made friends with the sun, shared enemies with no one
counted weeks like she should of counted days
and swallowed handfuls of night so she could sleep tight
and turn her thoughts from its stone cold ways
and this was the beginning, the start of the ending
you can't die from a broken heart
but from the time the sun rose
to the space where it fell away
she would love, and it wouldn't take part
and every every day she would echo echo
in every single way she should let go let go
but it had her in its sights cupids icy arrows
so she caught every one with her heart like it was her duty
it walked the wrong wrong way down her one way plan
she was surrounded by forests, rivers and beauty
until that glacier froze over the land
and so she blamed herself hated her wealth
she was born at too young of an age
and every night her dreams were touched by witches fingers
until her heart was caged.
with every morning spent not caring if she cares or not
sleeping in the melt and mud, waiting for the earth to rot
burying herself alive she scrapes the hole that it left open
empty as her very heart, that mountain was all broken
all broken, that mountain was all broken
now I can see that her bloods red and she’s got feelings and they always get spilled both without thinking
May 11, 2012
May 11, 2012 at 11:29 PM UTC
My body burns to rove far from man-made
buildings, prisons for the modern soul.
I need to traverse the frontiers white man stole
from those who made it their home.
I've been down to the Everglades of Florida.
Fan boats flew through the estuary lines with roots
of mangroves. I've been to the Hoh Rain Forest of
Washington where fog descended on the shoreline
and married the sulfur smell rising from hot springs.
I must experience America's coast to coast beauty.
Every spare seconds I spend luxuriating in the
sun, thinking of all the places untouched.
My list of desires grows as the glaciers
of Glacier recede in Montana, beckoning
me to the Rocky Mountain Peaks.
Old Faithful gushes, surrounded by wolves and grizzlies.
Someday I'll cross Yellowstone's expansive mountain ranges.
from Idaho to Montana to Wyoming. On the arches of
Utah I'll face my fear of heights and find solace at
the tops of time-layered sandstone towers.
Descending the Grand Canyon I'll study beautiful
colors exposed by years of erosion. In winter
Death Valley will be braved. The lowest and direst point
will exhilarate me with scaled creatures as sand
dunes whisper my name with every hot breath.
The Badlands of South Dakota will hope I come
backpacking through prairies to watch precious bison roam.
California Redwood trees and I will stand side by side
as friends. Yosemite will call me to her cliffs and I will chase
waterfalls and sequoia groves until I've seen it all.
I ache to explore the terrain that bears
my name, the country I call home.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 1:09 PM UTC
Glacier,
Flake
Time
Crystal
Collective
Mass
Gravity,
Flow
Breaking
Celibate
Monastic
Oath
In
This
Cathedral
Tower
Bedrock
Cracking
Groans
Moans
Under
Exponential
Cave
Crush
Crevasse
Plowing
Scoring
Tearing
Mush
Melt
Calving
Diving
Block
By
Block
Headlong
Into
Wave
Reflecting
Clouds.
Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 9:04 PM UTC
Well I guess I knew it all along
You were singing to another's song
There was no harmony to our verse
So bad it couldn't be any worse
The words just never rhymed
Our life steps were out of time
And the way you always spared
The commitment was never there
Well like a bird without a nest
A rainbow without the rain
I see it all so clearly now
I see it through the pain
All the secrets you withheld
All those pretty little lies
Every question never answered
Another piece of me would die
Like a lake without it's water
A glacier without it's ice
You'd go dancing around the corner
To see who you could entice
So like a heart without it's lover
A sky without the blue
I'll guess I'll be moving on
Trying to forget about you
So like a bird without a nest
A rainbow without the rain
I'll be moving on
I think it's for the best
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 9:13 PM UTC
Two things that do not go together:
Oil and vinegar
Like two puzzle pieces that don’t fit, one bigger and heavier, the other smaller and lighter. One sits slightly on top patiently, waiting for some impatient six year old to try and make them, squashing, trying to change them and mash them into one picture, you take your bread and you dip, and these two things that cannot physically mix taste perfect.
Fire and ice
For one is too hot to handle her own heat and the other is too cold to be touched by human hands. Get them too close and sparks fly- he melts from a glacier into a puddle at her hearth, but to his misfortune leaks a liquid love and puts her out.
You and me
Like the puzzle pieces, I sit smaller and savvier, waiting patiently as you sit heavy and heartbroken over what you could never have but always deserved. But nothing is perfect, because for five years you were too cold and I too eager, and we destroyed each other- you when you caved and I when you drowned me out and now you are so far away. We wait patiently for someone to force us to fit, while everyone who comes along merely samples and says we are perfect.
Feb 15, 2011
Feb 15, 2011 at 8:13 PM UTC
you make me cold in the pit of my stomach,
a glacier sliding past my lungs.
your bangs brush my eyelashes when foreheads press together,
only silence and movement and sweat between our skins.
and i feel condemned, of all things.
yet, irrevocably, i'm yours.
sold on the street corner, at the intersection of your passion and your distaste.
Jan 27, 2012
Jan 27, 2012 at 11:47 AM UTC
Far narwhaled
silly monkey speared
aquatic creature cucumbered
another mammal tonight
On the fishing boat,
they reeled in both bodies
the monkey frozen solid
narwhal flapping harmlessly
They asked the monkey how it happened
his reply was this:
So they took his wide-eyed frozen stare
as for an admission of guilt.
his shock spoke volumes like
a speaker being blown out.
Tonight, the sailors drink moonshine.
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 12:12 AM UTC
Bobo's kitchen
in the kitchen
icebergs rampage from the freezer
burying pizzas and waffles
in a glacier jungle
Bobo swings forks and knives
at the ice until the maintenance man
cusses in Polish
gallons of water
dripping downstairs
sizzling Bertalina's soul
the fiery bilingual single mom
living in fear
below his fear
of noise complaints
she sends tape recordings
to the landlord in her
cute red faced anger
loud people! and bongos!
guitars! stomping! laughter!
nightmares for her boys
who think they hear ghosts
her tight black spandex
drives Bobo mad when she runs
drifted scents of her food
sift in through his windows
knocking him out
in hungry frustration!
¿Como estás? he asks her
I speak ******* English! she barks back
back up the stairs Bobo goes
to his own kitchen where
the mice crawl out the stove tops
and potatoes grow tree roots
clear through the window
toward another life
Jake Mahaffey
Copyright (c) 2013 Jacob Mahaffey
Jan 23, 2012
Jan 23, 2012 at 12:28 AM UTC
my glacier blues stared down into the darkest browns.
I said, "I don't want be brought back. Be it a sudden death, stroke, whatever, maybe a heart attack. Let me go if its my time. If its my turn I'll gladly go, hey, even in my prime."
the darker didn't understand, or didn't want know.
I was saying goodbye if it was my time to go....
I am DNR.
Arguing on their point to want to live. They didn't get too far.
They made threats, bickered, but I just smiled and said, "Its ok baby. I'm a sensitive RockStar..."
With a DNR
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 5:49 PM UTC
I reflect upon the Father's love -
monoliths in Yosemite.
The eagle screeches far above
a song, "Your love's extremity".
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 1:14 AM UTC
Traversing edges,
gliding o’er sledges
undulating ridges,
crossing broken bridges:
One could sense-
the Zephyr’s nudge;
glacier’s gelid grudge-
Frigid frail feet, fail to budge,
the mirage of hope, forever will trudge
traces of existence, begin to smudge.
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 5:35 AM UTC
what does it take to ruin someone and for them to ruin you?
I can look in your eyes and see what is true, I can
break into your motives and see why you do it, I can
take a flame to the glacier and melt your ice down, but
in my ears beating my burning heart sounds like a thunderous
cry, etching your name on my soul, when you leave there can be nothing,
I can never be whole, my mind is a solver, I crawl into blank spaces
and find underneath them the hidden, dark mazes- without the problem
there can be no solution, only when you are there can I have absolution-
you are a lock to my key that will melt- constantly forming-
into something I've lost. Every day has a morning- but the night destroys
day and the dark is afraid- I am only for you, now, forever and always
(at least til the next, when I fall in the hallways)
my heart is not open, it is a strong focused beam-
to bring light to your days, and bring hope to your dreams.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
How am I dry
When years of anticipation are melting like a glacier?
All I’ve ever wanted
Is standing at the end of my bed
With his cold hands
pulling apart my thighs
So why am I fighting so hard
To get out of my head?
When he looked into my eyes
I saw guilt staring back at me.
When he kissed my lips,
He hated that they tasted unmistakably mine
And not of his lovers.
Our timings never been “okay”,
I should have taken that as a sign
To keep this a fantasy.
Dec 18, 2021
Dec 18, 2021 at 2:48 AM UTC