"glinted" poems
I used to live on the coast,
with the sun shining every day,
as the gentle breeze would rush under my arms.
I was dragged to a city by a wonderful host,
whilst getting caught in the the disorderly fray,
as I was never able to get the hang of its charms.
You see I'm still not used to the everyday ******
and the typical poor mans plea,
I think of the soft subtle waves which hid behind my door,
and the way the light glinted off the calm sea,
I do not think I will get used to this damp city with you,
but at least I always awake with the most beautiful view.
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 5:29 PM UTC
A proud man,
Upright and unshakable
In belief and morals,
Once only I did I see him
Without a tie.
A child of Edwardian England,
The links Of his watch chain
Glinted
As they hung
With formality and elegance
From his waistcoat pocket,
Yes, even as he worked.
And work he did.
Patiently,
Brilliantly and tirelessly
With ingenuity and imagination.
A craftsman from a bygone age.
A master of his tools.
Grandfathers are soft,
Playful, bear-like in their
Gruff-whiskered familiarity.
Not Poppy.
Unwittingly aloof from his grandchildren,
We avoided the need for directly addressing him,
Unsure of where we stood.
He’d probably have secretly
Loved the informality
Of our secret nickname.
I hope he knew.
The chapel piano did for him.
Too much weight for his work-weary ticker.
Grandma gave me his pocket watch to keep,
And for a time I treasured it,
Measuring its weight
Like a smooth round pebble
In my palm.
A workman’s watch;
Practical.
A yellowing face
Behind a scratched
And hazy glass.
But accurate,
And precise.
Reliable as the man.
Detached in life,
I liked to hope that
Gazing down,
Watching,
He just might have
Laughed
In loving acknowledgement of his
Grandson’s curiosity
And foolishness
Sitting cross-legged on the carpet,
With heart-thumping nausea
Adrift in a sea of springs.
Mar 21, 2011
Mar 21, 2011 at 3:15 AM UTC
"I LOVE LOVE!" She shouted, speaking to herself in third person.
It was then that she seemed to float away
A balloon on Macy's Day.
*It seemed I was the only one orbiting earth,
watching those performances of daily life applauding
for a well-flipped omelet a superbly
fitted glove a full tank of gas at $4.00.*
I couldn't believe my luck
Terrestrially, there were husks sipping coffee
and rasping and rustling at each other
desiccated.
Privately, she was buying real estate on the moon
I LOVE LOVE! she shouted
Dancing like an egg on a spray of water
a declassified military satellite who through some dumb luck
had escaped the pull of gravity and won
Marveling at the moon rock
on her finger, even a stubbed toe just seemed
like the ideal opportunity for extorting kisses.
And it glinted in the light.
Everything was fine.
*Down on earth it seemed all the wine drinkers
were toasting to us cheering as we terra formed
the moon.* ***We couldn't believe our luck
as we rolled back our stone.***
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 10:07 PM UTC
The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow shimmering.
Tinuviel was dancing there
To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of stars was in her hair,
And in her raiment glimmering.
There Beren came from mountains cold,
And lost he wandered under leaves,
And where the Elven-river rolled
He walked alone and sorrowing.
He peered between the hemlock-leaves
And saw in wonder flowers of gold
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,
And her hair like shadow following.
Enchantment healed his weary feet
That over hills were doomed to roam;
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,
And grasped at moonbeams glistening.
Through woven woods in Elvenhome
She lightly fled on dancing feet,
And left him lonely still to roam
In the silent forest listening.
He heard there oft the flying sound
Of feet as light as linden-leaves,
Or music welling underground,
In hidden hollows quavering.
Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,
And one by one with sighing sound
Whispering fell the beechen leaves
In the wintry woodland wavering.
He sought her ever, wandering far
Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,
By light of moon and ray of star
In frosty heavens shivering.
Her mantle glinted in the moon,
As on a hill-top high and far
She danced, and at her feet was strewn
A mist of silver quivering.
When winter passed, she came again,
And her song released the sudden spring,
Like rising lark, and falling rain,
And melting water-bubbling.
He saw the elven-flowers spring
About her feet, and healed again
He longed by her to dance and sing
Upon the grass untroubling.
Again she fled, but swift he came,
Tinuviel! Tinuviel!
He called her by her elvish name;
And there she halted listening.
One moment stood she, and a spell,
His voice laid on her: Beren came,
And doom fell on Tinuviel
That in his arms lay glistening.
As Beren looked into her eyes
Within the shadows of her hair,
The trembling starlight of the skies
He saw there mirrored shimmering.
Tinuviel the elven-fair
Immortal maiden elven-wise,
About him cast her shadowy hair
And arms like silver glimmering.
Long was the way that fate them bore
O'er stony mountains cold and grey
Through halls of iron and darkling door
And woods of nightshade morrowless.
The Sundering Seas between them lay,
And yet at last they met once more,
And log ago they passed away
In the forest singing sorrowless.
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Moonlight glinted off my hair
And had turned yours to silver.
As we danced round and around,
We became stars that didn't
Belong in this universe.
But I'm sure in another
We're still laughing and playing
In the moonlight underneath
The Japanese Maple tree
Like the children we once were.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 7:05 PM UTC
ON TURNING ONE DOWN WITH THE PLOUGH, IN APRIL, 1786
Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flow’r,
Thou’s met me in an evil hour;
For I maun crush amang the stoure
Thy slender stem:
To spare thee now is past my pow’r,
Thou bonie gem.
Alas! it’s no thy neebor sweet,
The bonie lark, companion meet,
Bending thee ‘mang the dewy weet,
Wi’ spreckled breast!
When upward-springing, blithe, to greet
The purpling east.
Cauld blew the bitter-biting north
Upon thy early, humble birth;
Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth
Amid the storm,
Scarce reared above the parent-earth
Thy tender form.
The flaunting flow’rs our gardens yield,
High shelt’ring woods and wa’s maun shield;
But thou, beneath the random bield
O’ clod or stane,
Adorns the histie stibble-field,
Unseen, alane.
There, in thy scanty mantle clad,
Thy snawy ***** sunward spread,
Thou lifts thy unassuming head
In humble guise;
But now the share uptears thy bed,
And low thou lies!
Such is the fate of artless Maid,
Sweet flow’ret of the rural shade!
By love’s simplicity betrayed,
And guileless trust,
Till she, like thee, all soiled, is laid
Low i’ the dust.
Such is the fate of simple Bard,
On Life’s rough ocean luckless starred!
Unskilful he to note the card
Of prudent lore,
Till billows rage, and gales blow hard,
And whelm him o’er!
Such fate to suffering worth is giv’n,
Who long with wants and woes has striv’n,
By human pride or cunning driv’n
To mis’ry’s brink,
Till wrenched of ev’ry stay but Heav’n,
He, ruined, sink!
Ev’n thou who mourn’st the Daisy’s fate,
That fate is thine -no distant date;
Stern Ruin’s ploughshare drives, elate,
Full on thy bloom,
Till crushed beneath the furrow’s weight,
Shall be thy doom!
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Once upon a time, Oh but that’s such a boring way to start-
Once upon a time.
I was little red riding hood that knowingly stepped
onto the wrong side of the path,
Hoping that a monster in the woods
would come and get me, but you-
A hurricane,
car crashes in slow motion,
personified heartbreak-
Too much.
Too much applesauce madam? The waiter asked, clean-shaven face bathed
In the New York skyline, ignorant to the gunfire explosions
inside me as I waited for you.
No thank you, sir.
“Meet me at the station”,
scrawled in messy, love- stained letters
In between the railway roars and the clatters of foreign accent, you've flaked again, like the struck chord of a bass
Signifying disappointment like a punch line
Reverberating through my skull.
Okay, repeat the mantra, one-two-steady-
Okay. It's Okay.
Four weeks later
I had your body pushed up flush against bricks and-
No shut up you don’t get to say anything after you go and shatter me like that
You’re sick do you know that? Lips snarling, heart breaking.
You’re sick.
So maybe I was the big bad wolf after all.
Stairwell bricks glinted off iridescence and
your mouth in that sad, sad laugh
Studying me like a dream brought
to the ground,
Puffy lipped and eyes blown wide like I was on some psychedelic high-
And you said
*“You’re still a child with fanciful ideas of love, and the way you cling onto them-
Quite frankly, it’s terrifying.”*
Please darling, let me redefine myself
Skip the pleasantries and small talk,
scrap the story of little red riding hood-
Once upon a time, I was apology and you were forgiveness
I can imagine inside you, of alarm bells and sunken souls
as you listen to the static white noise of
A dying heart
Hello darling, are you there? Can you hear me? Is this mic working?
I hate to sound like those magazine cut outs-
I hate to sound like,
Just another lover, just another cliché-
But you were the matchstick to my dynamite
and nothing feels better
Than my own self- destruction, so won’t you please
Another chance? No?
Even Lucifer sometimes longs to be let
Into the gates of heaven again
I’ve cooked some apology,
I saved a plate for you
So for the love of god come inside and have some before it goes cold.
Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 5:04 AM UTC
Forged by Hephaestus himself, tempered in Satan's heart.
It moves too fast for the normal eye to see,
But leaves traces of moon glinted footsteps in the fissure of heaven's breath.
In the harmonic tune of clashing instruments, an orchestrated chaos is present.
The chord from the bowstring beats time on wooden shields.
To this, their blade waltz continues.
Their cadence unmatched by surrounding performers,
The maestros continue their viperous style.
Just as a painter cannot take away a stroke of the brush,
A swordsman cannot take away a stroke of the blade.
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 5:30 PM UTC
You put me in your hair,
twirl me with your fingers
the wind blows me here to there
so you put me on your sneakers.
I'm purple and pink, perfect punk'
upon your forest, atop tree trunk
I always am with you when you leave
and run around the school house trees.
We'll forever remember the rushing air
but we must have lost balance and crashed
the warmth and sun that glinted isn't there
but still get up again, it's time for class!
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 10:40 AM UTC
He lost his wings at birth
Soaked in the misery of nothingness
Child caught the face of a dejected mum
Dad gasps for breadth in vanity of time
What lurks in the darkness beyond?
Where is the answer, the poor child reels
Eyes glinted at ignorant jubilation
Not again, the village moaned uneasily
Wings refused to flap inspiration
Sun refused to dry soaked misery rule
Conscious of the stream of pain not long
On and on breathlessness overcomes hopeful desire
Heart overflows with helplessness
Birds fly around filling the air with hope
Child closes eyes not to twig bitterness
So that sorrow could fly away
All at once the days come by
No means to endure the crunch of time
Denial by the offensive of futility of all
Rescue for survival nowhere to find
Staring the freshness of gentle breeze
Hope wades in with a struggle to live
‘Abrakadabra’ the witch doctor screams
So that sorrow could fly away
Don’t give up my brother
Determination beckons with authority
Sorrow and hopelessness dumped on the side
So that no other child sees it no more
Holding firm to tomorrow that is not lonely
Misery in abyss pushed aside to give way
Alas the flower glows and sweetness flows
Like the river of life beyond comprehension
Fly away your sorrow.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 4:21 PM UTC
In an apartment on 53rd street
A fire is burning
Out of a keyhole &
Into a cigarette.
Smoke comes in walls
& is heavier than rocks
& it takes an artist
To hate oneself.
Moon-faced Serbians sipped
Drain-O from sandals
While red-lipped nomads
Gazed & sharpened their blades.
A fat lady walks in &
Before she can say
“Burger & fries”
There are spears in her ears.
The body is dragged to the
River by sheepish failures, but
The boxer knew what was afoot &
Had removed all the water from the river.
But no-one cared because a riot had
Started in the streets
“Flay the feminazis,” they chanted
“Pour molten oil on the devout,” they screamed.
& all the flat-eyed artists
& all the drag-queen mobsters
Danced around the fire like evolution
& an ape got in the middle of it.
His fingertips calloused
His elbows like spears
His eyes w/ more blood
Than white.
Richard Nixon or
A Richard Nixon costume
Entered stage right w/
Boxing gloves & cocktails.
They would throw children
Across the fire
& artists on the other side would be
Waiting w/ nets & knives.
But then tear gas came
& they cried & their
Tears were like the eyes that
Glinted at them.
Out of a keyhole &
Into a cigarette.
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 2:13 AM UTC
Four dots. Four lights
Each floating deep in an icy cavern
Each glints in time to an unknown beat
I see my breath, but I'm not cold
The crystals of water feel like rock,
or plastic
I feel warm here
Watching the four lights
Watching them glint as I speak to them
Looking to the back, at the fourth light
One light fades and goes out
The last light I looked at
The last light I made glint
It glinted fast, and went out
The other two glint
Still outshine the fourth
In the back, growing brighter
Another glints fast, pops away to black
The other just vanishes
Now I am alone with the last light
The brightest of all
And I see
It too was blinking
Faster than the light that faded too soon
Faster than the light that flared and then blew
Faster than the light than just ceased to be
It too was blinking
But I broke that light
And now in the dark
I see how cold it truly is
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 3:09 PM UTC
I am like the bicycle you let sit in the rain,
turned sideways, wheels still spinning in reverse--
an abrupt split second call once my small SUV showed
its dull red color and token dents, signs of an irresponsible me
(and a still judgmental you).
Once upon a time you prized me,
snatched me from the wall of Grandest Biggest Rewards
for those who throw their money and efforts into
impossible pursuits.
My hair gleamed. My skin glistened. My eyes glinted.
but my legs would not spread.
they could not for fear of Eyes of a Watchful God.
when the day came, the day that no one believed you would come,
not even me,
you closed your eyes; I squeezed mine shut,
as did my doors, never to let you in.
Not even when you begged, bargained, bribed.
When you flung insults like the beagle's feces,
fresh, frenzied, frantic,
I dodged each smear physically, but let the memories
haunt my fading floral youth.
Now, that the doors have opened
to admit those who may be trusted,
and have closed deep within a secret,
discarded like a rush of blood--
just as meaningless, just as insignificant,
Now, you've found another bike to prop against the cool
sheltered garage wall, newly painted--
both the garage and the bike,
and her arms emerge months from now
with baby and baby and baby.
Brimming with baby.
And I sold that bicycle months ago,
the one I fought so hard to retain.
I was never the material, nor the istic.
Just used goods gone sour.
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 4:22 PM UTC
Cars crashing,
seatbelts couldn't hold them back
as they flew through the windshield,
waterfalls of glass
cascaded over the smashed front,
the ground sparkled coldly,
red glinted off of the glass
that was embedded into the flying figures.
Bodies hit the ground,
they made a hollow sound,
blood pooled out around them.
They were young souls,
gasping out their final breaths,
their chests heaved as they screamed.
People gathered around
crying hopeless tears.
Nothing could change their fate.
As the ambulance finally came,
and the cars were towed away,
only one thing remained,
it was the young blood that stained
the grey pavement.
No tears,
and no rain,
could ever wash away this blood
that now tinted the hearts of the people who saw
just exactly how violent it is
to die young.
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 2:10 AM UTC
She looked down at her feet with blue eyes,
Her hair bouncing commercially.
Pink straps lashed down each delicate foot;
The rhinestones at the ankle strap flashed gaudily,
Beckoning other girls to follow those feet anywhere.
She looked at the clerk with blue eyes.
A fashionable smile marred her face briefly,
As she blinked down at the person who, before,
Had been taller than she.
Teeth glinted to match the stones on the shoes,
Which she carefully removed from her feet,
And handed to the clerk.
She looked into her purse with blue eyes,
And pulled from it with vacation brown hands,
A wallet, in which was placed her father’s credit card.
She drew the card out of the leather pocket,
Using a natural, swift motion,
And placed it on the efficient mall counter.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 12:46 AM UTC
that raven,shiny feathers
of funeral black, with eye agleam
was just about the largest i have seen
caught sight of it dragging tenderized
roadkill home for dinner,
it may well have been
a crow for it swore at me
before it went, fark, fark
whilst wrangle the possum carcass
away into the dark,
a shadow seeking the shadows
to feast and to park it's heavy load
it's beady eye glinted in the dying
of the sun, it hopped and pranced
like it was having a ball, then dipped
it's sleek head into the pile of gore
and all my fantasies of the blackbird's geniality
are sadly to be .....nevermore
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 5:36 AM UTC
A spindling sun stream on copses' cloak spun
Melange of orange, yellow, red on foliage does glisten
Decadent Umbrella wields fluorescent shield o'er barren fields
Glinted blades colorful shades heighten
Glossed Bright-cherry, Oak leaves the fringes floss
Purple haze of Sweet Gum lobes the flanks glaze
Yellow tips of White Oak fingers waxed with gilding syringe
Orange Marmalade, Maple stars varnished with tinseling *****
Blue Beech crusted folds dusted with a brackish rust
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 11:39 AM UTC
And the knowledge of the hedgerow plant, I found embedded in leaf veins ... like in mine, etched along blue lines of a notebook. In the ripples on the remnants of water that pooled, before the mudflats claimed them are the striations of ol'butot near Naivasha. His stories tell of caves, a gleaming obsidian of a pre historic introspection. Do forty day fasts suffice to exorcise the springs of sulphur or the forced baptism of a flash flood washing six souls to Hades ? The sun glinted at me through a narrowness of fate, a gorge of interminable seconds and I marvelled at the strata of time in a warp, for it blurted out a moan.
Love spoke in nuanced layers of molten flow that crawled to stillness. Can I not say that stone speaks? A couple of hundred years back in time, self titled discoverers had seen land that had not been unseen by the thousands who lived for thousands until then. So yes, the strata spoke to me, like the striations in the leaves and the lines that were everywhere telling stories of interminable seconds. Time grooves like a death valley in an engraving, etched like a memory of that which has never been, ripples on sand, circles on water,
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 10:49 AM UTC
A deep ache fuels in my heart and spreads to the ends of my fingers and the tips of my toes.
Everything hurts when I think of you.
I recall the way you laughed with so much force that your shoulders shook with happiness and the way your eyes glinted underneath the Florida stars.
It hurts to know that I won't be able to experience those moments again.
We will never drop everything and run to the beach at 3 AM or drive endlessly with an unknowable destination.
I know that things happen for a reason and pain is inevitable.
We are only living in temporary infinities.
You were never mine to love for a lifetime but in the time I had you, I loved you so **** much.
I'm wishing on these Florida stars tonight. As the waves crash down and the water kisses the shore, I think of you and wish you well in all that you are doing.
You're an unforgettable sliver of my soul.
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 9:28 PM UTC
A dull doll faced mug
Glinted by unknown light
Dried a drip of ancient drink
Dripped down quite
Hands clasped tight around
A mug of occult confession
Eyes teared as such
A sorrowful expression
Dappled light through glass
Chair scrapped along floor
Spotted plastic tablecloth
Shut tight wooden door
Homemade woollen tea cosy
Lumps of bricked sugar
Kettle whistling dolefully
Clicking stained cooker
Futile arms waving
Closed taught eyes
Sigh of calming thoughts
"Please, no more lies"
Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 1:12 PM UTC
One crimson morning the sun rose and I bled out across the sky.
My veins pumped life into the dawn.
The razor was a mirror into the eyes of the sun and it was hot, and scalded the sink.
My wrists were surrogate wings that lifted me as they drained.
Ribbons of molten rust ran down my fingers.
Silent drops patterned the floor, a mural of red on white.
Streaming through the window the rays glinted off my ashen eyes.
I will not be forgiven.
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 12:22 AM UTC
It was a dark and stormy night
The moon was like a ghost
New, it was a sliver
Misty. Foggy. Lost.
Lightning all around it
Dancing on the breeze
Thunder took it in its arms
To Tiptoe Through the Trees
Liquid glinted on its face
Flowed down to cheek and jowl
A madman's laugh arose from it
As the wind began to howl
Yes, if raindrops are as tears to him
They are tears of Mirth
For he looks down upon us fools
And laughs for all he's worth!
Aug 7, 2016
Aug 7, 2016 at 12:15 AM UTC
Admetus swallowed the sun.
His throat was raw, tongue heavy with words.
Words of praise, of worship,
but the sun refuted him.
His light was dimmed,
hidden by dirt and muck, things he chose.
He seemed more human than God,
and Admetus loved him for it.
Still, the sun shows affection by shining brightly.
He glinted off coins, off crown, off sparkling seas.
He crested the horizon, casting shadows.
He shone on Admetus,
illuminating,
reflecting the deep bronze of his skin,
the curve of his spine,
the length of his fingers,
the line of his waist,
the tip of his tongue as it passed his lips,
the shadow of hair on his jaw,
the ridge of his calf.
He seemed more God than human,
and the sun loved him for it.
He fought for Admetus,
gave him all he wanted,
and took what he too desired.
But still, the sun is eternal.
Man is finite.
The sun shone on Admetus for as long as he could,
longer than he should have,
stealing back time from the grasp of silver scissors.
But it was not enough.
And when Admetus’ time came,
the sun was dim.
The twilight fell upon the world,
and the darkness seemed to last for an eternity,
though it is not told in story or verse.
Admetus swallowed the sun,
his body warm,
his eyes bright,
his fingers spread.
And then the sun swallowed him whole.
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 11:48 PM UTC
I was watching the fish a few days ago, and decided to join them.
Their flickering fins slowly glinted as the sun sank beside me.
I came prepared: purple swimsuit, goggles, and a glowstick
But I left behind a life preserver.
It was on the shore, just in case, but as my feet graced the waves it no longer felt necessary to take precautions.
The golden red hues faded as the water got cold and I continued to drift.
My glowstick glanced off scales and shells, and my hair dye ran like blood around me.
Humans aren't supposed to be able to live without oxygen.
The body will shut down in at least four minutes with severe brain damage, and the possibility of death,
But how can one think of that in moments like this?
Even when all that is left is green, man-made light,
Waiting two seconds in murky liquid, the water comes alive.
Anemones waved as I sunk deeper, their glow penetrating the black.
Schools of fish twirled between my thighs as I landed softly on a coral bed, then slipped off into the sand.
Bubbles brewed from my nose.
Eyes burning as my gaze roved
I was blind in the darkness.
My chest began to tighten,
But who cared?
I had been watching fish, and found myself instead.
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 5:02 AM UTC
The first time we met, your eyes glinted in the afternoon sunlight.
I pondered,
I adored,
I loved your shy personality.
Then when I got to know you more,
I was hooked.
Your lovingness, your care, your optimism,
had me thrown into pirouettes.
We laughed, we hugged.
We talked, we cried.
We shared our secrets and our lives together.
We were complete.
Until that one moment, when you pulled my heart strings too far,
and left me to throb in pain.
My heart aches as it harrowingly beats.
And tears roll down my flushed cheeks in rivulets.
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 7:09 AM UTC