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Best Poems Written by Craig Glenister

Below are the all-time best Craig Glenister poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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I Am Nothing

Old hunter lifts head,
shattered lives lay at his feet.
Tears roll down his cheek.

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Reflection

Waterfall to pond,
ripple to mirrored stillness.
This beauty to face.

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Love

Lone wolf with curled lip.
Chimney catches the curled smoke.
No no no..yes.

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Clear Water

Still pool, shaft of light,
sleeping eyes open..reflect.
Lips bow down to drink.

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Dog-Gone

Straggy sad dog
left all alone,
head on her paws
sleeping on stone.

Skin and bare bone,
her life undone,
eyes dimly see,
rain is to come.

Death softly cries
"Oh little one,
come here to me,
I am the sun"

Her tail wags once
her heart's last leap,
This little puppy,
slips into sleep.

Wakes in your arms
holding her dear,
A dream she had,
distant past clear.

She could be yours
She could be mine
One never knows
Until it's time.

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Spirit

Transparent and flowing following natures way
tripping and tumbling as bright as the day
clear to drink and innocent of faith
it offers new life for all to embrace.

Round rock and within our earth it does ply
when water hits bottom does waterfall die?
No life unbidden fails to stop
the siren sea call within each drop.

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World Refugee Day

A child cries.

Please don't look at me.
I look back
Begin to smile
Shy trembling heart
One glimmer of joy
in a world of pain.

You look away.

Please don’t talk to me.
I open my mouth,
Forgotten words
Tumble and fall
from childhood lost
like toys in the rain.

You turn away

Please forget me.
I can’t bear the pain
Of looks and words
Offered but not kept
Both blind and deaf
Each, a small death.

You forget me.

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Wisdom's Gate

Knowing he knows not,
the old man leaps, clicks his heels.
His child touches ground.

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Oasis of Life

Lost in a desert
Footprints lie, don't look back
Oasis of love.

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The Beast

Of what good is beauty, without ugly beast
Tearing flesh fully faced, to submerge itself
In identity found within human mind.

A bulwark built to feed darkest desire,
Hiding behind thought and from which we shoot
Slaying love in the battlefield cross-fire.

A mirrored refraction of life seen cracked
Through lens attuned solely to oneself
With arbiter's cloak clutched tight to throat.

Is not Beauty built upon the Beast's face,
Are they not one and the same, in Death,
And we who breathe them to miserly Life?