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David Glazier Poem
The ocean jade, its
white-veined waves,
flush the sponge land,
as dangled toes melt into sand.
Far across the earth ends
in a silver bright horizon...
Almost blue then, there
the sky, the water
Transpose in sight
Coalesce inseparably
Those seas, those skies.
I wonder why
Our illusory eyes
See not what is real
but a trick of light
The ruse marries us all
And we walk a worldly aisle
towards an altar lost
in chaotic traffic.
“Do you take this blemish
of life
To become your trusted husband
or wife?
To sell and be sold
Like trinkets of gold
A ring of wills
To have and to hold?”
For some feel entreated
to win, no matter costs.
To shackle our spirits
in a burgeoning frost.
Eternity is just across
the sea and the sky
but the star=shine
no longer is visible.
Cloud mocks the sun.
Together we mingle
with implants and robots
Brains more than minds
Through particular spots.
Forever and a day
does not make any sense.
It never has.
But it used to sound
comforting.
Look ye all
To the majesty of darkness
and see oneself,
Or rather, not see.
For there, merged
with a lack of light
hearts, never singular,
ever broken in night.
And the dead may rise
And the living may fall
And our paralysed eyes
will wonder at it all.
The end come quickly,
pulses faintly stalled,
for witchery’s magic
spells out words
For all and all time.
So look to the jade
and white-sinewy sea,
to the far dome’s beginning
where almost blue it seems.
Definition between one
and another
disguised by delusion.
And air floats
invisibly smothering
As we breathe and breed
detached, insensate
to such utter confusion.
The light, the light
fades from bright,
Greys into ocular voids
The light, the light
flip shut glaucoma blinds.
The windows darken...
why, it’s nobody’s fault,
for we all are invested
like dollars in a vault.
Copyright © David Glazier | Year Posted 2020
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Details |
David Glazier Poem
My Family
It’s not that we connect by blood,
nor share our bread through drought or flood.
It’s not that we are joined by name,
nor think, nor act, nor are the same.
It’s not a place we call our home.
It has no structure, wood or stone.
If there’s a notion that could identify...
If there are words worthy to dignify
what my family means to me,
what it truly does signify...
Then, it’s in the way we hold our heads.
It’s in the room where laughter spreads.
It’s in the friends we found inside
the times we thought would break our stride.
It’s in the joys we celebrate;
In taking time-out with a mate.
It’s in the tragic accident
when we all asked God just what was meant?
It’s in our tears, our stoic resolve
To keep together, to problem solve.
My family is golden. It’s a spirit that flies.
It moves between earthly and heavenly lives.
It is that we remember, it is that we still mourn
those that came before us and those who left this shore.
And if there’s a bond that’s stronger than blood,
Then my family is joined by unbreakable love.
This is a choice.
It’s a choice we do choose.
It’s knowing the dread
if this love we did lose.
For my family is
an unwavering power
A steadfast mountain,
an unshakeable tower.
Copyright © David Glazier | Year Posted 2020
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