Poems Inspired by Louise Glück
#LouiseGluck
Poems inspired by the American poet, Louise Elisabeth Glück. Here you'll find poetry using the style or themes found in the work of Louise Glück. Also, possibly poems about Glück herself, including praise and criticism.
slipalong
Poem Published
3rd Feb 2020 9:12am
3rd Feb 2020 9:12am
Mounted on brightened wings
How wish we, have that grace in common
in meadow with its vista mapped
see and feel its sway
the heady rush of pollen
the heart uncapped, the keg now tapped
That upward rush under the wing
spirit like Lovage; cloy on the teeth
with herbs, liven the palate with every sip
from its chrysalis then break free
A swish, its fashioned delicacy
to flutter, as notes upon a stave
that free spirit trace
like imagination's, dance upon...
in meadow with its vista mapped
see and feel its sway
the heady rush of pollen
the heart uncapped, the keg now tapped
That upward rush under the wing
spirit like Lovage; cloy on the teeth
with herbs, liven the palate with every sip
from its chrysalis then break free
A swish, its fashioned delicacy
to flutter, as notes upon a stave
that free spirit trace
like imagination's, dance upon...
#nature
#LouiseGluck
530 reads
3 Comments
slipalong
Poem Published
30th Jan 2020 9:39am
30th Jan 2020 9:39am
The Cortage
Lie they now on a wheelbase stretched
the box to hold all lifes pursuits
mourners and "my black tie where is it kept"
the shiny coffin resting their best suit
Memories that rise and teardrops fall
the wardrobe of discomfort
the solomn line of cars that crawl
the elegy of all your triumph
The hearse so smart without a finger mark
a mobile phone bursts into life
the reply just whispered quiet
it goes to voice mail with a snick
The line with measured tread
passes soon from birth to grave
in joy...
the box to hold all lifes pursuits
mourners and "my black tie where is it kept"
the shiny coffin resting their best suit
Memories that rise and teardrops fall
the wardrobe of discomfort
the solomn line of cars that crawl
the elegy of all your triumph
The hearse so smart without a finger mark
a mobile phone bursts into life
the reply just whispered quiet
it goes to voice mail with a snick
The line with measured tread
passes soon from birth to grave
in joy...
#death
#LouiseGluck
534 reads
4 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
30th Jan 2020 4:17am
30th Jan 2020 4:17am
The Myth Of Innocence (Ballad Of Persephone)
The girl who disappears from the pool
will never return. A woman will return
looking for the girl she was.'
-Louse Gluck
She is too loved, one might say,
to know darkness;
too much a mother, a child, her fields
too fertile to know Winter.
But, she can't know Winter
when she is removed of it--
Death is another Summer.
So, she courts him, that death
unknowing what he really is
by living so fully her heart could burst.
This is where the harvesting of her begins:
She runs...
will never return. A woman will return
looking for the girl she was.'
-Louse Gluck
She is too loved, one might say,
to know darkness;
too much a mother, a child, her fields
too fertile to know Winter.
But, she can't know Winter
when she is removed of it--
Death is another Summer.
So, she courts him, that death
unknowing what he really is
by living so fully her heart could burst.
This is where the harvesting of her begins:
She runs...
#love
#summer
#winter
#mythology
#LouiseGluck
700 reads
13 Comments
Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
jade tiger
Poem Published
28th Jan 2020 5:49pm
28th Jan 2020 5:49pm
A Moment I Felt Would Never Come
i.
It’s like once having known a
chronic alcoholic, which I never had,
at close quarters, which I also
never had. No more calculating
minutes, soft-boiled to hard.
Waiting till he finds the butter knife
is not with its dish, oh my God.
A ceramic coffee mug stained
with its last watermark, good Lord.
ii.
Like mix-match napkins set carefully there,
I stood in place on each black and white square
on the stage of our chess board
to which I’d record
all of the years I thought I could fix,
and spent waiting...
It’s like once having known a
chronic alcoholic, which I never had,
at close quarters, which I also
never had. No more calculating
minutes, soft-boiled to hard.
Waiting till he finds the butter knife
is not with its dish, oh my God.
A ceramic coffee mug stained
with its last watermark, good Lord.
ii.
Like mix-match napkins set carefully there,
I stood in place on each black and white square
on the stage of our chess board
to which I’d record
all of the years I thought I could fix,
and spent waiting...
#marriage
#breakup
#MovingOn
#LouiseGluck
#obsession
657 reads
13 Comments
wallyroo92
Poem Published
27th Jan 2020 7:40pm
27th Jan 2020 7:40pm
Afterthought
Remembering what I said last night, now I reflect
I should have been a little more cautious with my words
But then again hindsight is always twenty-twenty
I blurted out the things that came to mind
And now I’m choosing on what to do next.
I don’t know why I said it
But my intuition was to be honest,
Now the poet in me is sad.
I slept on it but still
No answers came to me in dreams…
It’s like we go through this cycle,
Every once in a while we’ll argue,
Reconnect and become closer,
Until something...
I should have been a little more cautious with my words
But then again hindsight is always twenty-twenty
I blurted out the things that came to mind
And now I’m choosing on what to do next.
I don’t know why I said it
But my intuition was to be honest,
Now the poet in me is sad.
I slept on it but still
No answers came to me in dreams…
It’s like we go through this cycle,
Every once in a while we’ll argue,
Reconnect and become closer,
Until something...
#SelfReflection
#LouiseGluck
668 reads
6 Comments
eswaller
Poem Published
27th Jan 2020 00:12am
27th Jan 2020 00:12am
Afterthought (Inspired by Louise Glück)
The blank pages and canvas in front of me
Remain barren and empty. Why? Maybe
I no longer feel any of the inspiration and
blood flowing through my veins like they
once did before. Maybe my voice chose
to give out. All I can do is hope for the rose
to start blooming again and for a miracle
to take me back to the empty roads where
I felt most at home. Even the changes in
scenery did not ease my mind anymore.
All I can think about is the world that tears
apart at the seams. But no one seems to
care about the darkness...
Remain barren and empty. Why? Maybe
I no longer feel any of the inspiration and
blood flowing through my veins like they
once did before. Maybe my voice chose
to give out. All I can do is hope for the rose
to start blooming again and for a miracle
to take me back to the empty roads where
I felt most at home. Even the changes in
scenery did not ease my mind anymore.
All I can think about is the world that tears
apart at the seams. But no one seems to
care about the darkness...
#LifeAsAWriter
#LifeCycle
#LouiseGluck
645 reads
6 Comments
Heaven_sent_Kathy
Poem Published
25th Jan 2020 8:00am
25th Jan 2020 8:00am
Nothing But Good
( after Louise Glück )
My parents at opposites,
and I in the middle.
Of the death nothing but good.
The plan as it’s shown
on the chart,
I can’t have it said of me,
unless it’s every bit
the painful truth,
on the edge of the maw,
a flower-eater.
I met halfway
as it was foolish sense.
And, looking in,
campaigned for mercy
and mother.
I grew into this old life filled
with blind dates, stretch lines.
The Lord is my Shepherd.
Of the death nothing but good.
My parents at opposites,
and I in the middle.
Of the death nothing but good.
The plan as it’s shown
on the chart,
I can’t have it said of me,
unless it’s every bit
the painful truth,
on the edge of the maw,
a flower-eater.
I met halfway
as it was foolish sense.
And, looking in,
campaigned for mercy
and mother.
I grew into this old life filled
with blind dates, stretch lines.
The Lord is my Shepherd.
Of the death nothing but good.
#parent
#death
#graveyard
#daughter
#LouiseGluck
667 reads
4 Comments
russell_snow
Poem Published
19th Jan 2020 10:43pm
19th Jan 2020 10:43pm
Tuned Out
The sounds of the city
Are starting to annoy me
And no, they never really did before
Now I understand the reason
People move out to the country
At least the sounds of nature
Are non destructive
to the creative eyes and ears
As I try to sit here and think
I think the walls are paper thin
And this ink is too thick to hold my hand
If nothing else can help me out
I suppose the sunlight streaming through
Each window on both sides
of the tiny house; is a welcome view
even after all these years
This house in...
Are starting to annoy me
And no, they never really did before
Now I understand the reason
People move out to the country
At least the sounds of nature
Are non destructive
to the creative eyes and ears
As I try to sit here and think
I think the walls are paper thin
And this ink is too thick to hold my hand
If nothing else can help me out
I suppose the sunlight streaming through
Each window on both sides
of the tiny house; is a welcome view
even after all these years
This house in...
#city
#WritersBlock
#separation #LouiseGluck
#separation #LouiseGluck
311 reads
1 Comment
Josh
Joshua Bond
Joshua Bond
Poem Published
17th Jan 2020 10:44pm
17th Jan 2020 10:44pm
Too-Soon
You may “stop all the clocks”
as many times as you wish
and Death will not be impressed.
With Time on his side
Death sneers at the turning of gears,
laughs at swinging pendulums,
yawns bored at chains with weights
and the tick … tock … tick … tock …
is no more than white noise
promising eternal continuance
of Death’s 100% success rate.
She died before her time,
sieved by helplessness.
The rational mind gives poor answers to this mystery
and a truer bigger picture
lies...
as many times as you wish
and Death will not be impressed.
With Time on his side
Death sneers at the turning of gears,
laughs at swinging pendulums,
yawns bored at chains with weights
and the tick … tock … tick … tock …
is no more than white noise
promising eternal continuance
of Death’s 100% success rate.
She died before her time,
sieved by helplessness.
The rational mind gives poor answers to this mystery
and a truer bigger picture
lies...
#death
#spiritual
#TruthOfLife #LouiseGluck
#TruthOfLife #LouiseGluck
1279 reads
31 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
14th Jan 2020 5:11am
14th Jan 2020 5:11am
Poem (Spring Emergence: The Pear Tree)
Frailty in paper,
a thinness blooming:
She is seen in a mirror.
He sees her, the writer,
bleeding ink onto his pages,
decorating his drab days:
She holds a single rose in her
subtle emergence.
She must be born, he thought,
this way that only fate allows.
The tactile grief is necessary,
that she become seperate from him.
The blossoms fall first
dried under his sun,
yet they remain white:
Floating in tiny winglets,
they become the very air.
Her veins emerge within
his parchment...
a thinness blooming:
She is seen in a mirror.
He sees her, the writer,
bleeding ink onto his pages,
decorating his drab days:
She holds a single rose in her
subtle emergence.
She must be born, he thought,
this way that only fate allows.
The tactile grief is necessary,
that she become seperate from him.
The blossoms fall first
dried under his sun,
yet they remain white:
Floating in tiny winglets,
they become the very air.
Her veins emerge within
his parchment...
#relationships
#marriage
#trees #LouiseGluck
#trees #LouiseGluck
765 reads
11 Comments
russell_snow
Poem Published
11th Jan 2020 2:59am
11th Jan 2020 2:59am
A Wilted Garden
visiting the darker places
no one lingers
not on purpose; not them nor I
tending the wilted flowers
on autumn's doorstep; yet a welcome breeze
learning the embrace,
the lull, the sting
not on purpose; if only one time
to hold a rose's thorn
awake! walking the softer sands
the homeward journey
awarding a quiet reprieve
behold! another artist, like me
dripping color on the canvas
brushing a red dawn
over distant, turbulent waters
painting death; yet a calming end
not on...
no one lingers
not on purpose; not them nor I
tending the wilted flowers
on autumn's doorstep; yet a welcome breeze
learning the embrace,
the lull, the sting
not on purpose; if only one time
to hold a rose's thorn
awake! walking the softer sands
the homeward journey
awarding a quiet reprieve
behold! another artist, like me
dripping color on the canvas
brushing a red dawn
over distant, turbulent waters
painting death; yet a calming end
not on...
#depression
#dark
#death
#separation
#LouiseGluck
415 reads
6 Comments
Heaven_sent_Kathy
Poem Published
3rd Jan 2020 8:57am
3rd Jan 2020 8:57am
Silence
( after Louise Glück )
At no time, while the spirit
moves through you, are you dead.
You cannot be fooled,
You are not proud of this fact.
And all things being equal,
no matter the wasteland
or inclement weather,
is all there is, nothing you can do.
Still, I can’t bleed for new chicks
that have no history, this latest
generation that thinks
I can’t spell, or buy a chair.
Mine look at me as if I’m a typo
from a dead language
that lies in a silted harbor
where Trojan warships once...
At no time, while the spirit
moves through you, are you dead.
You cannot be fooled,
You are not proud of this fact.
And all things being equal,
no matter the wasteland
or inclement weather,
is all there is, nothing you can do.
Still, I can’t bleed for new chicks
that have no history, this latest
generation that thinks
I can’t spell, or buy a chair.
Mine look at me as if I’m a typo
from a dead language
that lies in a silted harbor
where Trojan warships once...
#teens
#aging
#escape #LouiseGluck
#escape #LouiseGluck
891 reads
10 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems Inspired by Louise Glück
#LouiseGluck is curated by Ahavati (Tams).
