O me to be trapped
Forever on the outside
to circle trying
To understand a/way in
But glass is solid
To name a hard nothingness
Without a crack or
Muntin of a meeting place

And so to recoil
Into my own hush-hush prism
Of well defined space
Figuring the alien
Out there circling
The glass bowl of a sharp eye
Within an/other eye 
Creepy but now contented
Strange but for contents
You’ll know when the light is on

Remember there’s no
Way hiding the obvious
Though safe from weather
Except from the winds of change
— Of normality
And the winds of cunning words  
Does all of this count?
Is this place indeed soundproof?
If I can’t hear them, 
Are they allowed to hear me?

And etcetera
I can see I can see through, 
I can see stones lined
Up like gray broken teeth.
Standing in a row
Announcing just quietly
That someone has gone
Down beneath to stain that spot
If you cant see me
You aren’t here you are there. 

Eyes clear and open
Though imbedded with mem/ries
Streaking the one good
Decent enjoyable view
Unless reminded
Why the need to think about
The day after now
And the yesterday prior?

The glass and stone meet and play,
Who will always win the game?


  1. the grey stone lined up like teeth...yes at that point we break upon them...perhaps it is best glass can not win...

  2. There are nice lines in this, and I can feel it in places. But I kept wanting to find this at the end: Sincerely, Your Goldfish

  3. I'm seeing circling grey teethed sharks in suits*!*

  4. PattiKen, But that would make it silly, yes? And the ending you want to see is not 7 as the rule goes, only 6.

  5. I do like poems like this : you can reach in and pick phrases out and enjoy them like picking out sweets from a jar.

  6. Beautiful poem and I agree completely with Alan's statement.

  7. Moments of understanding, a lot of interpretation required but actually I quite like the inside looking out idea. Technically, I appreciate it. . poetically . . .I'm trying, really I am.

  8. H-H, everyone knows goldfish can't count, but they are affectionate (and yeah, often silly) and, unlike Baino, they like poetry, especially the rhyming kind. So...

    Sincerely, Your Goldfishy


  9. Time for a break-out... or is it a break-in?

  10. i like you use of the muse, and the feel of your verse

  11. OY, this is getting heavy in here. Everyone chill. It is letters and words that come out of the fingers of an genius artist like paint. Just enjoy!