Glass with Memory
When I remember you
glass comes to mind,
but nothing so transparent
as an unclothed thought
or warmth trickling in
through the pipes or
under the haze of
the second night’s sheet,
no two alike except
in appearance, but under
the lamp’s unconscious glare
I find warmth spreading
across the hard surface,
telling me all is
not lost, that smoothness
persists beyond our reflection.
“Glass with Memory” made its first appearance on the blog in February 2017.
O at the Edges 
Another beauty, Bob!
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Thanks, Lynne!
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Well, I’ll just take this opportunity to say how much I loved “Baking Bread” too(finally got my Ristau copies). Your lyrical abilities with these shorter poems is awesome – it’s like being serenaded!
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Thanks, Lynne. The recent poem in Panoply was written during the same period – September was a productive month!
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I would love to have heard Jack Kerouac reciting this. His cadence, with Steve Allen playing piano underneath, would be an interesting performance.
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Now that would have been a sight to see! I’ve seen the video of the two of them.
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There was something so perfect about Jack Kerouac’s speaking voice. ” Well, a lot of people asked me why did I write that book or any book; all stories I wrote were true, because I believed in what I saw…” What an absolute GOD of haibun!! What a time in America. Ornette Coleman, Miles Davis, Dave Brubeck, Jack Kerouac, Jackson Pollock’s memorial retrospective at the Museum of Modern Art; what an absolutely massive half decade of creative achievement in America!
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The music alone sends chills through me!
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His tone of voice when he says. “go moan for Man, go moan, go groan… go groan alone,” an absolute aesthetic juggernaut!
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“Go roll your bones alone…”
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this is really pretty
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Thanks very much, Beth.
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As with memories, this stirs more questions than answers … yet a sensuality that somehow comforts.
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Memory and glass are both fragile and somewhat transparent…
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Just beautiful, thank you for writing and sharing it
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Thank you for your kind words.
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The lyrical work here is just beautiful
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Thank you!
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You’re welcome
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It lead to nice contemplation though I must admit I didn’t understand a bit in entirety
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Thanks very much. I don’t worry much about understanding, but hope to provoke feelings through poetry.
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(Reprise poems? Why not. I do.)
What do we bring to glass? The things beyond are baulked, our fingers barked, before we appreciate its substance, its being there. We bring memories to it, even if it’s merely translucent. I hold a beaker – it’s hard and doesn’t yield – science tells us, however, that glass is a liquid. The sloth of time as we wait for it to flow.
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Its liquidity is one of the qualities I always consider when writing about glass, which I seem to do often. Go figure.
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