Best Pane Of Glass Poems
A sonnet I will write with you today
Inspired by the beauty that I see
Beyond this pane of glass where snowflakes play
Beyond this pane where raindrops used to be
The creek behind the house has turned to white
How silently she rests upon this morn
Her muddy depths completely out of sight
Beneath a face where ice begins to form
The trees once leafy raise their barren limbs
Where now those scarlet feathers can be seen
A Cardinal in flight upon a whim
Upon a winter morning so serene
Beyond this window pane from which I gaze
And stare in wonder...at this world... amazed
...
A blue jay breaks the silence with his trill
That sends those scarlet feathers to the air
Across the creek they fly to yonder hill
Where combines of the windmills creak...beware
The sun begins to rise up from the east
Exposing all the diamonds in the snow
Abreast the oak and maple leaves deceased
The frosty face of winter all aglow
With gratifying java on my lips
With a big coffee cup held in my hand
I tap my table top with fingertips
While humming Crosby's Winter Wonder Land
Beyond this window pane from which I gaze
I stare in wonder ...at this world...amazed
Written: Dec. 10Th, 2016
....in retrospect
There were mirrors there
Behind it, where all the Jews would hide
How can someone blame the black despair?
All You were, was a mirror over there
Flooding naked imagery
Flowing naked mercury
Proof there were no fa-ked lies
Unless words were pressed against the frame
Somehow you couldnt recognise...
your name...
Half blinded..
Besides, you would deny it anyway
One day while searching for those wandering Jews
Purple flowers in my garden winked at me
" we are they, if so you choose"
The mirror held was upside down
(It never mattered anyway)
So I kept on walking on and on
Until this very day
Ive heard it said just the other day
They used it to flash the sun
Hoping it would shine away
As some were hiding in its shade
A million miles away
Behind that fragile pane of glass
The looking glass kept looking past
And keeps looking for today
Looking at the torn disguise
And the lying enemy eyes
Though their lips were moist with movement
As yet the sound remained unheard
The spoken word was truth
One day it all may come to you
Whispered by a little bird
Ive held so high your high regard
And so your high esteem
Your badge of broken Jew
And friends by lives devided seen
I tried imagining I was you
Walking, standing in your wretched shoes
To us were done similar things
They also covered up the truth
In fact its happening here and now
How much cover do they need?
In honour tried to imitate , sometimes even emulate
Your cheeky contraband
Conducting your own orchestra
While playing your own band
This mirror holding up I see
If I was ever to wear those clothes
Emblazoned by a David star
Embattled with a Jewish scar
I wish to have your nose
The link between us circumcised
A covenant yet not broken
A people not yet broken by the blues
My love was found
Intact profound
In around
the nation of the Jew
Wish I was a snake slithering in the grass
or a big black spider on a pane of glass
Or a cobweb on the ceiling or a bug on the wall
a scarecrow in a field, ten feet tall
Wish I was a bee buzzing among the flowers
or a puppy in a puddle after a shower
I wish I was a rainbow up in the sky
or a bird, then away I would fly
But I'm just a little girl who wants to be
anything else. I just don't want to be me
Let me be the first
to have the audacity to translate,
This piece of mystery molded
in a magical meadow of mistakes,
The reckless subject, there,
just standing still like a landscape of order,
Disfiguring a flow of ridged ribbons
in shapes of unheard names,
Carelessly manipulating my optical
constructors to articulate promises
from paper wings,
Bewitched by the light warm
slash of sun laid upon the raging tides
within trembling silence,
How far charms can go to seduce their
way into a destructive satisfaction,
Might it'd been too kind to dry brush
around the edges of your shadows,
When the basement of your
intentions homed disturbing dreams,
Hunting for the tremors from
freezing nightmares that pray to
bury my ocean and all it's devotion,
Where do the ones who
seek the sins of lost words hide?
While half of the living cling
onto the drifting light,
This shrewd figure that clasps on
the thousand synonyms of shallow tears,
Whisking a bath of blades for
my pane of glass that hold scads of scars,
The pace of time, travels differently
when I try to captivate you through my sketches,
I am told by the tones of my pencil,
that your armor shields a menacing maniac,
Too cowardly to battle for your own persistence,
So hold on to what's left of your timid thoughts,
Sadly strength has long evaded you.
The Old Man In The Mirror
Who is that old man who looks at me in the morning?
When I shave and shower he is there living in a pane of glass
Grey hairs replacing the dark walnut brown
More and more each day, each hour
Eyes looking tired from ages of struggles
Each reflecting a soul which was once so full of life
Now it lays stagnant and lost
It has the memories of its youth
Doing this that that man can only now remember
Wrinkles took so long to show
Even fooling that old man into thinking he was younger than he is
Every grey hair, every wrinkle has been earned
They are the wages of stress, pain and anxiety of aging
Some called them badges of honor
I look in the mirror and see that old man looking back at me
I don’t see honor, pain, stress or anxiety
That old man looking back at me has lived a full life
Successes and mistakes of the past are reflected in the mirror
Lost loves and loves found are hidden in his spirit
I look at the old man in the mirror
I look at the grey hair and the sad eyes
I see each and every wrinkle
I look at the old man in the mirror and I see life
You thought, you broke my heart when you walked out
Well old friend, have I got some news for you?
It stung a bit, of that there is no doubt
But honey, I was anything but blue
The day you left, I bought a Cadillac
I bought myself some diamonds for some bling
My love train kept on rollin' down the track
And all I left behind was big smoke rings
See, girls like you, give women a bad name
And guys like me, look out, for girls like you
The only thing you got from me was shame
Now, you're the one who's left singing the blues
You were a pane of glass right from the start
And by the way, I never had a heart
February 7 2017
by Daniel Turner
The meadow's radiance gradually dimmed
and evening littered far and wide
it encouraged the unfamiliar
and everything uncertain.
The night accelerated sounds of anticipation
as a thousand strangers loomed
and I thought him to be a foreigner
until he glanced twice
as his smile slightly dropped
astonishment plagued him
Insecurity encompassed me
as I turned away in doubt
betrayed by the numinous...
that often guides my thoughts
He left with lady and child, to merge
With a thousand anticipating strangers
and the northern lights sheltered me
the explosions across the sky
gave satisfaction -to so much expectation
that unexpectedly emerged
Then the night was briefly soundless;
the applause prolonged
as were my duties...by my immersion
and within what felt like only seconds
he was passing,
through a thin pane of glass
all I could yield was a smile,
a smile to the incredulity within his eyes.
Enclosed with the evening...was the meadow,
and the difference was indistinguishable.
*
* *
B Beginning on this journey, I rode the cusp of different signs
O One path would lead to Venus, yet to Mercury I have climbed *
R Reaching for the stars, was a curiosity * *
N Never knowing just what might have been, where the other path might go
*
U Under power of the universe, each complex twist and turn
N Now it holds me in its flower, where my destiny would bloom
D Deep within my heart, I held a comet’s tail to ride
E Eclipsing secrets of the moon, and the stars to be my guide
R Reflection of the twin in me, that can see the other side *
G Gazing with curiosity, through life’s dark and cloudy windows *
E Each pane of glass stares back at me, a entwined reflection shows... *
M My mirror image , is she perplexed? I wonder if she knows…
I I search her face, but secrets hide, the mimic's eyes are sealed *
N No hint revealed,.. she is quite resolved..and like the moths of night
I I flutter, as does she, against the glass, to reach the light
Particles of minds
Souls
Hearts
Lives
Descend like soft rain upon my windowsill and ignite in the rays of the sun
Layer after layer stack the flakes of dead skin
Dead air
Dead worlds
Death’s shavings
Dust
Dancing through the atmosphere and crawling in my breath.
Reposing at the pit of my lungs
Ruins of history within me
Within you
Earth’s fallen flesh will forever remain amassed upon the windowsill
At the pane of glass looking out onto the future
And our generation will live on in the dust
I pressed my face against the thick pane of glass
And stared out into the black of nearest space
Where my planet-home Earth hung suspended
Like a special well-worn ornament on a spruce tree
Decorated with multi-colored bulbs and angel hair
Earth swirling inside webs of gray cloud shrouding
So peacefully, it appeared, she drifted silent there
While I saw visions of peoples struggling to be free
Knowing on us so much of their future depended
Adventuring to the unknown, and finding a place
Where Earth’s inhabitants might egress en masse.
written October 23, 2021
[using a reverse rhyme I often
employ in more recent poems]
I wait for you in the moonlight
In the quiet of the night
Within this room that holds
So many moments of your life
The dreams you've dreamed
Still linger here
Between these flower-papered walls
That look beyond the window
At the Autumn leaves that fall
A quilted robe lies draped across
A wicker rocking chair
That held you and rocked you
When grief
Was more than you could bear
A bassinet now empty
Where once a baby slept
Remains enshrined
Chained to a time
By the million tears you wept
A picture of a handsome man
With you there by his side
A bride and groom so in love
With stardust in their eyes
Stands behind a pane of glass
Within a gilded frame
Where your lip prints and
finger prints
On its surface..still remain
And now...
I hear your slippers
As they slide across the floor
And I hear...
Your laboured breathing
Outside this bedroom door
And I know that soon
I'll hold you
Here in this flower-papered room
And soothe your old
And frail body
In the light of a silver moon
I...your old companion
An antique Rosewood Bed
Let me hold you...Mary Beth
I..the best friend you've ever had
Let me hold you through the night
And bring you back...again
Sweet Mary Beth
Into the morning light.
A Mothers Epitaph
As I listen to the dirges
drifting by in gentle strains
I'm carried back to childhood
I am now a child again.
A hand is on my shoulder
I am by my mother's side
But I know it's only make-believe
for my mother cast us by.
now your day of judgement
has finally come.
I will never get to ask you,
just one question, Why.
You battered us you bruised us
every day you mentally abused us,
but even worse than that, you let
our own father use us.
I wonder if you ever knew the word
Filicide.
Or counted the times
you knocked my head from side to side.
Now as I stand here one last time
by you side,
I shall shed no tears
for the mother who never knew me,
like a pane of glass, you just
saw through me.
Shattered glass
The glass all shiny
Stands almost invisible
Filling a gap to form a window
In the old Georgian house
Letting you see the wonder beyond
The shiny pane of glass.
Until one day
It begins to fall apart
Looking dull and broken
As slowly it crumbles
Piece by piece
The glass shattering cascading down
Resembling a ferocious waterfall,
As you roll away
Being washed by waves of glass
Tumbling down, swept away
Like shattered glass
Our world is but a pane of glass
And I have seen the Grim Reaper
Lift a wearied hand with a stone --
With little restraint to keep her.
For in a dream she showed herself,
Boring her terrible eyes in me,
While neither young nor old, or plain
Or handsome did she choose to be,
But bare of foot and draped in gloom
We stood looking across a road,
I noticing how she was swathed
In the black of night where she strode.
A seamless gown, the same fabric
Crossed atop her head like the sight
One would see the Virgin Mary
Sport beneath a starry crown's light.
But her eyes, her eyes, frightened me
As they locked on mine with intent;
As she started coming my way
With all that she could represent . . .
So, I'll reiterate, our world's
As fragile as our very life,
Where many vandals are at play
With fire and stones of brass at strife
To kill senselessly without thought
And deny we have soul and choice
To save others 'fore it's too late
And a scream becomes every voice.
The Storm
It is late at night and in my room,
Darkness prevails as a kind of gloom.
Whispers the sentinel of events to be.
A flash of lightning, outside I see.
The quiet is broken by Hell sent thunder.
I leap from my bed and there hide under.
On pane of glass, the droplets smash.
Like hammer on nail, it seems to bash.
Out in the vortex of wind and rain.
The calm is lost, for Chaos, a gain.
With eyes closed tight, I call out my cry.
“What have I done, that I must die?!”
The answer I receive in a voice so deep.
“Damn it Chris, Go back to sleep!”
Now reassured, for mom was near,
I knew now this storm was nothing to fear.