August 3, 2017 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Kristopher Roller photo



Gary Glauber






A sign of these uncertain times,

fear of violent retribution

the harsh reality faced

like Janus every fourth January.

The thin line between activism

& hollow complaint blurs.

Should have, meet could have,

& somewhere there exists

a one-way ticket

out of palookaville,

but caught in your endless concern

& your need to be right

beyond being heard,

it’s safe to assume

you’ll never find it.

Numbed from a need to win

& the hassle of constant introspection,

thoughts descend every morning

to govern & check

ones from the night before,

to transform you

into anyone else,

into sharp shadows,

into innocent pilgrim

gone searching for truth

through the ebullience of youth

or convincingly pretending to.





Figurative Display



Secrets like sharpened swords

carefully handed to you,

heirlooms of emotion’s origin.


What is there to say?

No alibis or explanation,

just this time of year.


Read between lines,

explicate these metaphors

interact with my broken heart

as if sacred text.


Take a careful, long look.


Hope unsettled past is past,

measure this distance

between us, tearing eyes

tearing us up.


Playing your paper clown,

I paint smiles on frowns

to hide clandestine pain.


Soft, our sun rains down

& enlightens reasons

as if to understand

this incongruous mix,


its hopes & fears

wanting to be needed

once more, when asked,

politely begged, instructed

to look ever so closely

another painstaking time.





Forget Me Not



There’s no safety in young love,

parents stay awake worrying over such things.

She never was the good girl,

that was another role played along the way.


The clouds hid the stars,

as if pushing the celestial bodies away:

Not now, not ever, not tonight,

fingers unclench fists and stroke the empty air.


In the end, she was all reflection, ethereal:

a picture of a dream at best,

a long walk to morning, a fear and a need,

a painful study in wild anger and impatience

evaporated by dawn.






Gary Glauber

Gary Glauber is a poet, fiction writer, teacher, and former music journalist. His works have received multiple Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominations. He champions the underdog to the melodic rhythms of obscure power pop. His collection, Small Consolations (Aldrich Press) is available through Amazon, as is a chapbook, Memory Marries Desire (Finishing Line Press). His newest collection, Worth the Candle, is now out from Five Oaks Press.

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