who has the space to carry other people’s choices
i have them violently spinning around my head
in opposition to my own private gyroscope
i perceive them as more important
i let them push their way in and as mine go crashing out
i am diminished, even as i am trying to convince myself
that i am somehow more because i am allowing myself
to  be lessened

glb /// “lessened”

bipolar dream

i don’t want to be lucky
i don’t want the big prizes
the silly balloons falling
or even the gigantic check
instead i want anonymity
to be overlooked
a number five on the chart
medium in the world of extar-large
i would rather go about my day
move along, “nothing to see here”
feel happy, but just happy enough
i can
pay my bills on time
have a little left over “for me”
once a week take a cab instead of the bus
so don’t expect much
you get what you see
i’m ordinary wrapped
in a plain brown bag
i’ll just sit here on the couch
watching re-runs of csi
waiting for my 11 o’clock
bed time
there’s nothing remarkable about
the things that i do
the music i like
the books that i read
glb /// “bipolar dream”

untitled # 510

sheets pulled up
over his head,
rocking to a cadence
no one else can hear,
she is in every
movement made,
a circular reference
on a perfumed breeze,
fingernails dragged
through empty space
catch on a dust mote,
rip a gash that
weeps time
over their faces,
they wallow in it
as if it might
might dry up and
leave them gasping
for more,
far more,
glb /// “untitled # 510”

turning rhymes into prose

turning rhymes into prose,
old thoughts and dreams
deconstructed and rebuilt,
to please the only ear that
can stand to hear them
after all this time alone
untangling stanzas and
couplets while rearranging
shelves full of notebooks,
elbow deep in words about
love and lust and betrayal,
epiphanies wink out when
compared with the truth
roping it all in with a lasso
made of twine, there is no
way to corral the hopes
in this pen, galloping off
with ideas that were not
quite concrete, leaving behind
hand prints that set too fast
longing to get feelings into
a form that means something
to someone in some part
of the world, traveling the thin
line between appreciation and
disparagement, flicking the pages
over the horizon, blurring with
the lines in the ledger
stars on the water show
the way home, darkness
slides slowly across the tablet,
leaving creation to touch and feel,
concepts bloom, pushing
perceptions through the
barrier between thought and
glb /// “turning rhymes into prose”

two of us

i wanted that life,
two of us being and doing
two of us things
that roller-coaster
has only two seats, side by side
there’s a reason it’s called
a love-seat
snuggled together watching
a terrible movie
but as it worked itself out
that life ended before it
ever got the chance to begin…
i still do two of us things
hoping to catch the smallest glimpse
of how it might have been
trying to prove to myself
there is two of us room
in my solitary world
glb /// “two of us”


“she is so worth it”
an answer i give myself
if ever i find i am
in need of an answer
“she is so worth it”
an answer i give myself
if ever i wonder
why i came all this way
“you deserve it”
an answer i would give to you
if you should ask me
why i love you
you deserve to be loved,
you deserve to be held,
you deserve to be cherished
you deserve to be free…
from pain,
from loneliness,
to soar without fear
you deserve to be original
and be accepted for that
“i love you”
an answer i give you
whenever you say
“you’re a fool”
“i love you”
you don’t have to say anything
i will repeat it
until the end of time
glb /// “answers”

alluding with alliteration

my spine is like jelly
my head on a spring
my feet stuck in concrete
something has clipped
my wings of creativity
doing their best to keep
me grounded, i should
be soaring and swooping
and diving and playing
with words, dancing
with phrases, alluding
with alliteration, but
the bucket is empty,
there’s nothing left
in the till, i don’t
seem to come up with
anything even by
sheer determination
and will, so i’ll hang
up my pencil, set
aside my quill and try
to rhyme for someone
glb /// “alluding with alliteration”

accept light

my dank, dirty, muddy, bloody
places are gone,
my practice keeps them at bay
sitting in silence
counting breaths
cleansing my mind
feeling the euphoria
that comes with freedom
push those things out
while teaching my soul
to accept light and love
into my now quiet spaces
glb /// “accept light”