Three Poems by Gary A. Glasser
Passion
Is 9 years old and 7
Is always hungry and cautious
Is blue eyed and freckled
Is sometimes messy and isn’t
Passion is 9 years old and 7
My heart beats but not without them
My lungs breathe and they are my air
I am alone and yet my passion comes in pairs
You have an angel
I have two
My feet are bigger than their largest shoe
Passion is 9 years old and 7
What am I without them?
What am I supposed to do?
What is a living life within heaven?
Passion is 9 years old and 7
Hope
Is it a word too late?
A word that is a step before and end
To give a false hope or to save intimacy between
friends
The single word a doctor says for months of a loved
ones life being insecure
Hope is to give faith to the faithless
Damn that word when you can’t quite promise your time
to a child
For that child knows no definition but the simple
phrases of “Yes we can” and “I love you.”
The word and feeling felt with your hands in your
pocket listening for just some change
And all that is heard and felt is the word “hope,” and
the trembling from within
As if that word itself has stabbed you as a knife, a
word cutting you in two
Forget about its praises and its bright blaring light
as if straight from the sun
Shadows truly lurk in that word, many mountains
crossed in challenge
And only then when you can actually see a near to the
end of a journey does that word apply
Why would you use such a word if you only knew it
would be a final, a good-by?
I can see your heart now, I have made it across or
through
Hope to see you very shortly, or hope you missed me
too
A child is sick, a parent is sick or a friend
You wish them well, Hallmark says it would make amends
It’s just a word with no dreams attached to
And I hoped there was a pot of gold at the end of
every rainbow looking through the car windshield
A mother is pregnant and for her first time
Does she dream about what her children will become?
Does she count the toes on her newborn child?
Did she prey that it will grow to be a healthy boy or
girl?
Does she hope that her son will not be in prison long?
Or does she hope her fourth shot of whiskey will be as
strong?
A child awakes in the morning
The sun is up and the TV switched on
The child doesn’t hope but knows that their favorite
cartoons are on
And dad is at work, and mom is in bed
Hope is a word that our children use when they walk
out the front door to “Hope” their friends can play
Embrace
We say we love them and have held their hands
And we say we will protect them at the same time
making trivial plans
They jump up to give us a hug
And they have walked to us across a well-worn rug
And they called us from miles upon empty miles
Hoping that the shear distance is filled while we
speak into an inexpensive phone
The television plays alone in the family room taking
up space, giving out a glow
Today’s paper is unfolded and separated from itself on
the floor
Political irony on the first page and loss of someone
loved says the second page
But the cartoons and the movie page are just as
important, and a coupon clipped
The warmth of your hand was felt, when?
And the words you spoke last, did someone accept them
within?
A loved one’s kiss upon your cheek, did you even
notice it soft?
Did you even smell the fragrance in their hair as they
approached you close?
Was his smile repeated and her smile accepted into
your busy glance?
And the dinner at her friends were only simple
calculated rituals
The words were spoken but nothing said
More words were spoken and yet the conversation
continued
Grins shown teeth and reflected acknowledgment of
what?
Of what he said and she said and they said, finally
the dinner was done
Tears are wept and cries heard aloud over the TV
Tissue to wipe the seeping clear fluid, the tissue box
matches the decor
A heart hurt and then we hug?
Pavlov’s dog and the mice that we are, we ate the
cheese
I sent a card, and an email and another empty phone
call
We wake to eat and to work and then to sleep
No one ever tries to touch the precious air that we
breathe
Nobody holds their child until they demand to be let
go
And no one sees a lover hold another until each other
has missed the time
Have you embraced me until there was a bruise?
Embrace me to bruise me and know that you hurt me
because you love me and it hurts us both to feel each
other after our arms have fallen to our sides
Kiss my mouth as yours mouth breaks across the front
of my face and the taste of my bleeding lip tells me
it hurts only to be so far away
Embrace me to hold me and to let go would only tear
flesh