Poems About Louise Gluck Seeking Friendly Advice
#LouiseGluck
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
724 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
684 reads
13 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
665 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
693 reads
4 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
789 reads
11 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
914 reads
10 Comments
Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
jade tiger
Poem Published
2nd Jan 2020 8:53am
2nd Jan 2020 8:53am
As Winter Ends
( after Louise Glück )
I recall in the year
once I came into season,
after the leaves all left,
in the abandon of Fall,
and the earth held its breath
from the long chill I wore.
I no longer felt alone,
not on my own, to sort out
the poetry of myself.
To recognize you only
as an atrium of airy clouds,
not within, like a pulse.
The life that began to
resurface as I rolled my grief
as thunder of lightning,
a...
I recall in the year
once I came into season,
after the leaves all left,
in the abandon of Fall,
and the earth held its breath
from the long chill I wore.
I no longer felt alone,
not on my own, to sort out
the poetry of myself.
To recognize you only
as an atrium of airy clouds,
not within, like a pulse.
The life that began to
resurface as I rolled my grief
as thunder of lightning,
a...
#winter
#fall
#spring
#nature
#LouiseGluck
780 reads
24 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Louise Gluck Seeking Friendly Advice
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