words

you know how I love words
how I love to pick them up,
look them in the syllables
and scrunch them in between
two others to create a crazy
collection of amaziing alliteration.
but there is more to it than that.
I want to accumulate the perfect
gathering of lines and stanzas and
couplets so I could create the
ultimate poem for you. if I could
do that every day, for as many
days I have left, I would always
have a smile on my face and I
would be content to pass on
like that.

glb /// “words”
originally published 08/28/2018

my words…

my words #1my words #2my words #3


my words in the air
hang for all to see
a slight breeze
makes me stutter
a strong gust
renders me mute


sometimes my words come
out garbled, incoherent,
I get embarrassed
and I shutdown without a
thought about anything else
you are beside me
fingers laced, too tight
OK, I can only stare at you,
concentration is impossible,
the many things I want to
say to you have turned to mush
I need you to speak for me

until I can use my words again

I need you to tell yourself
how much you mean to me,
things you already know or else
you would not be here with me
glb /// “my words series”
originally published winter 2013-2014

my words

my words are dying
for a muse,
hoping to get through
to someone that
might not even be
listening

my words are longing
for a touch
in places that
haven’t been touched
in so long

my words are trying
to break through
your defenses
hoping you will see
me for what i am

just a boy
in love
with a girl

glb /// “my words”
originally published 02/23/2019

attempting to relate the story to something in my every day life

attempting to relate the story to something in my every day life
“it’s like going to the corner market for milk and coming back with
a can of SPAM and two pickles”

but it doesn’t measure up, nothing ever will, so you don’t try again
you just settle back in your chair and watch the snow fall on the
street and sidewalk and cars

but you do try again, there’s no way you can’t

trying to start a fire in the gas fireplace is an exercise in futility,
as a distraction from your problems it is the worst example,
you just twist a knob and press a button, no need for kindling
and matches and such

if only you could “whoomp” away your worries that easily, there
would be a fireplace in every room, endlessly burning for your
creativity

putting on sandals and heading outside for an icy walk on the
driveway gets you half way to the mailbox before your toes
turn blue, look at the weather, no postman is coming today
this was an exercise in futility

there is nothing you can do that will measure up to the way
you felt when you were with her, your ordinary with her is more
extraordinary than anything you can experience without her

glb /// “attempting to relate the story to something in my every day life”
originally published 01/29/2014