Glimpsing Poems | Examples

Candlelight Kisses Minichu

Candle tongue stirs the skin within my skin,
Glass red with so many tears —
Romance personified by the melting of wick,

Though shadows drone on walls, a phantasmic tango
These French lips worth reading —
Inside heart highs and lows

Timing
Glimpsing
Stealing

Candle tongue stirs the skin within my skin —
These French lips worth reading,
Stealing

A Puzzlement

Can you

Could you

Solve this conundrum

Decipher this dilemma

Troubling me?

How do you find 

What seems lost forever

How do you seek 

What is no longer found?

What do you call that which

Has forgotten its name

How do you point fingers 

When we are all to blame?

I look up at the sky 

Glimpsing nothing but clouds

Though my eyes search for a silver lining 

How can it feel so bitterly cold

Though I see that the sun is shining

An elusive enigma

A problem perplexing

A quandary quite sigma 

And truly quite vexing

A Gordian knot with no simple solution 

No way to escape this mental pollution 

Perhaps in the face of a futile endeavor 

I will remain in this labyrinth

Trapped here forever 

Or perhaps this is only a passing phase

I will recover, I will amaze

Life is too rich to be squandered away

I will rise to fight another day.

Ghosting Valentine

A crime the February tongue —
In her box I'm open this time;
She alone melts chocolate eyes —
Eyes — camouflaged red ribbons, blunt,
Ever stained by glimpsing her love —
And in my dream, her dreams still glide;
Though no word lifetime by lifetime;
This day for me the darkest dawn —

Oh, what cries as I do this fierce,
For February's lovelorn tongue —
Where in the light, night intertwines;
Oh, God, there only in her kiss,
As it sinks in elsewhere be gone —
She's in my arms this Valentine's.

Unrequited

If I could break free from this endless ache,
Watching you weave your lovely deeds each day,
While joy illuminates your gentle way,
Leaving my heart bruised blue, my soul opaque.

My lonely sun pursued the violet dawn,
Upon glimpsing your delicate hands entwine
With his, flowing like sweet vintage wine—
Such solace I seek in sighs withdrawn.

Shed blood and tears, hatred steeped in pain,
When I beheld your spark for another's heart;
Fierce eyes, now blind to all but my dark art,
Have caught the world's suffering and strain.

Forever bound to love's unyielding chain,
My passion burns eternal, though in vain.

-

Intifada

(“Glimpsing Hokusai”, 2017, original encaustic)

Intifada aka “Kill the Jews!”

While we were sleeping content in our lives 
Something dark and ugly was growing inside
Spreading across the lawns, and fibers of the net
An intifada of hate as old as time, 
For those People of the Book who hold the power
Maybe we fear, maybe we envy.

“Kill the Jews” was once tolerated,
Then condemned in shame,
And now pridefully in distain proclaimed.
“Kill the Jews” may sound hip and cool
Until you realize where this led last time,
And how a Jew is no different from you.

Everyone now who’s saying it, 
Gleeful as you rise up to burn again,
What it’s taken so long to build,
Consume with a hate as old as time.
But how will you feel in the morning
When the next wave comes for you…

(11/25/24)

glib gladiator in Gladys Gladiolas

Glandular glib gladiator in Glady’s gladiolas?
glazing glassblowers gleaning gabbiness?
glistening, glittery, glitzy glop glimpsing gladiator?
globular glowworm gloriously gleaming in Glady’s gladiolas.

Dreams

Dreams and Reflections 

As dreamers, we awaken to find disappointments. Each of us dreams, but on different planes. Today, I still harbor the dream of owning a place—a safe haven, my wildest fantasy. While many aspire to be boss ladies, I revel in being the captain of my own soul. My situation remains deferred; I require no rescue. Surrounded by a few friends, I am a free-spirited poet lost in words. I copulate with illusions, my natural ritual—alone with my thoughts, fulfilling my soul. Thankfully, none of your spirits infiltrate my inner sanctum. 

Goodbyes punctuate my relationships; loneliness, my chosen weakness. Like Lady Moses, I ascend the mountain of self-reflection, glimpsing my tomorrows before aiding others.



 summary: 

In essence, the poem encourages us to embrace our dreams, face disappointments with resilience, and seek clarity within ourselves before extending help to others. Life, like poetry, is a journey of exploration and understanding.

Glimpsing the Future

“We often throw away what we still have so as not to regret what we have already lost.” - Luigina Sgarro


Black is white’s shadow.
Day is night’s despair.
Morning is evening’s dare.
Thick is thins embrace.

Love is hate’s defiance.
Hope is desperation’s death.
Light is dark’s sadness.
Life is death’s contrast.

Beautiful is repulsion’s misfortune.
Affection is loathing’s imp.
Joy is sorrow’s memory.
Laughter is the teardrop’s grace.

If you should meet with my opposing,
Remember that, when all be told…
The reverse of this very moment,
It’s the promise of my future’s past.

Reflections Of The Mind

Reflections of the Mind 
To know the softness of your lips
To see the pleasure of me in your eyes
And know your craving grows inside
And feel your skin beneath my touch
 
Awakened from a restful sleep, wrapped
in your blanket of love
Glimpsing your smile or hearing
the sweet melody of your hello
 
Adds new dimensions to my life and builds
a staircase to my heart only you can climb.
Counting the moments until we next meet,
your lovely face which smiles peacefulness.
 
Your walk, your voice, the curve of your hips
and the dip in your stride stay utmost in my mind.
As each day darkens and nights, cools the air, I am with you
As each night dawns and your smile fades the stars, you are with me.

Anger

  Do you suppose,
  That in repose,
  Our anger will continue to grow?

  Rears an ugly head,
  On the ceiling,
  Above my bed.

  Painted vivid colors,
  All sharp points,
  And prickly show.

  Does our anger have a face?
  Of course, it does!
  No anger can have a place,
  Without a target,
  On its face.

  Has to be different,
  Then the rest.
  Missing something,
  Or another.
  
  Has too much,
  What a bother!
  Always glimpsing in the past,
  Has to make our anger last!

  Folding in a touch of sin,
  Whatever that is?
  Makes the anger win!

The Risk Is All

("Glimpsing Hokusai", 2017, original encaustic)

The Risk Is All


The wages of sin is death.

And yet so many flirt with it.

People who think they can maintain the upper hand.

That they can have their cake and eat it too.

Lots have suffered though thinking they can surf the big waves.

The key word there is think.

And although surfing, like any other activity, is a learned skill, at some point it becomes something more, an extension, an expression, like a fledgling finally taking flight, and so becomes beyond thought.

And what is beyond thought is by definition enlightened.

No matter how brief the moment.

And in that moment everything and every potential is limitless and perfect.

Until the next big wave begins to swell.

(10/18/23)

Marionette

A marionette to the mind,
Whispering fading schematics,
Deluging the heart and soul, in a 
Juxtaposition of good and evil, 
Betwixt Heaven and hell, amidst
Snowdrifts that swirl before my eyes, while 
Spiritless shadows restlessly carouse;
Discordantly, far from reach,
Vagrantly ambling across
Deadened Arcadias, glimpsing 
Floating embers, in wake of 
Vivid firestorms, swallowing me whole,
Faltering with every step I take,
Decelerating towards the escape I seek,
As it rhythmically scars my timorous nature, 
Awakening the monsters hidden deep within-seeing red-
Bleeding out miasmic toxins, as noxious
Spores erupt, immersed in a haze of austerity, 
While it seeps and saturates, throughout 
Malignant wounds exposed, undulating between 
The storms of push and pull, as daunting
Tasks, of rippling sequences, splits my 
Chasmic core.
Soulless footprints are all that remain, as 
Moon tides wash ashore, ebbing away
Towards dystopian depths.

Gust

Whispering, often hushed –
	through oaks and pines,
jaded hopes, inviting – the music
of a prayer, free as light, glimpsing –

yesterday, breaking through the spirit
	intimate and buttery as the sun,
risking every breathless talent  –
portraying each smile in a gentling touch

Kissing away the past with a kindness
	gasping, sighing, soothing away
each teardrop, the dew in all its delight,
sliding tenderly along the petal, blessings

inspiring the music of the air, brisk in autumn,
	soundless, in peaceful prayers,
reminding the spirit to listen to the stillness,
the embrace of a life, bruised by the endless…

need for a moment when the color of hope
wasn’t written on the promises of my laughing
gust, the music – far too magnificent, harmonizing
with sun’s tender spark, night’s soft dark – zephyr song

Divine Light of Poetry Poetrix

I warm my earthly life
  glimpsing the heights of heaven
 feeling the divine sunshine of poetry

For Men Who a Lot Travel

For men who a lot travel
Are sights at which we marvel:
Crossed truths judge knows not nor Gavel;
The ones rolled cars unravel,
All travelers wide awake,
In crossed folks glimpsing the Old Snake!

For men who a lot travel:
Sure contacts with The Civil
But as sure with the Devil,
Who could flash some Nice Evil;
"You hit her and I'll shoot you:
You'd be long dead, still, no clue!"
And Travelers' ears words grab,
As driver keeps steering cab...

The sadist dropped their tears dab
Against a new grave with slab.

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