Later

This is where we are
In a perpetual moment
That binds
Plans with reality

This is when
Later,
Is

This is when
We are going

It doesn’t have to be
Big and flashy
It doesn’t need to be
Quaint or docile

It will be whatever we want
When we get there

— GLB

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When Is Later?

We assumed that
What we needed
Was what we had,
We built ourselves
From our familiarities

It was so easy
We knew each other
We knew what were doing

So many years
Gone by,

Without a scratch?

But we knew there were other,
Things

Things brushed upon
Things talked around
Things set aside,
Until later,

When is later?

— GLB

Imagine

Imagine
All the words
I have in me
To tell the world
About you

Imagine
Notes
To string together
In brilliant crescendos
Forming
The symphony
Of us

Imagine
Light falling
Through mist
Colors running
On your upturned
Face
What a masterpiece
You are to me

Imagine
Sparks
Flying into
Infinite night
Leaving
Stars
As enduring
As we are

Imagine
Infinite dreams
Built on
Abiding love
And you will have only
Scratched the surface
Of everything
We can be

–GLB

These Words

These words say everything
Boiled down to its essence
These words say nothing
Scummy leavings in the bottom of a pan
These words are outrageous
Read through the filter of the Bazaar
These words are joyous
Carried by the voices of the Sunday choir
These words float on the breeze
Sweet scents on butterfly wings
These words hold your hand
Warm solace in the deep deep night
These words are ephemeral
Catch them quick before they’re gone
These words are matter of fact
Listen if you want to hear the truth
These words cost me everything
You may have them for a song

— GLB

traces of life

words spill from my brain,
scorch paper,
leave immortal marks,
anger, love, frustration, loss
ashen traces of life
i struggle to recall

pain pulls up to the table
clinking knife to glass,
demanding some wine
to acccompany this horror show
immune to cries
from shattered lives
left in its wake

i am never going to be
what i set out to,
corners turned,
alleys dark,
bring new
colors i have not
dreamed before

i pull pen from paper
re-seat my mind,
and eye,
refocus energy
on well worn territory

alternate paths
to subjects hard to reach,
becoming my own
crier,
echoing similar refrains
through the caverns
of my imagination
repeated so many times
it is hard to prove
their veracity
only knowing that
if uttered enough times
they have to be

— GLB