(Unfinished) Business, by Jeff Glovsky, Poetry, Works in Progress, Writing

(Miss) Her

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There is nothing that I’m able to say.  That’s what’s sad.

Left unheard.  Stay unsaid.

What’s the point?

Remain dead.

Jeff Glovsky Too Soon

“Too Soon”, ©Jeff Glovsky


Walking aimlessly down Broadway,

downtown,

down past church and funeral pyre,

cemeteries…

GravesYard by Jeff Glovsky

(unfinished business)
by Jeff Glovsky
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by Jeff Glovsky, Photography, Poetry, Writing

Manna

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Bones quake,

transmitting a need to

put forth thoughts, 

ideas before sleeping

awakes early

mourning.

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“I Was Once”, ©Jeff Glovsky


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by Jeff Glovsky, Photography, Poetry, Writing

Nu Year (Poem)

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Let’s just see if I can dream, spontaneous, asleep
while seeming fattish, gaining weight while planning
exodus from messes left another day and time
when I was crazy, youngish, blind and stupid

Just like Mommy said I might be


ArrowUp_RED Words
& Image ArrowDown_RED

NextYear_JeffGlovsky

by Jeff Glovsky
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by Jeff Glovsky, Poetry, Writing

Hear Me (Fall)

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In the Midtown bar, the blonde ignores surroundings, blithely chatting on a cellphone, like she’s home alone, or might as well be.

Unlike she, I’ve got no one to talk to.  Sitting with the gloaming outside, loud annoying noise within.  My head, the music bleeding, pounds right through me, thoughts (not there) receding…

Empty.  I look up, and down.  The room spins.

No one hears me fall.


by Jeff Glovsky

 

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by Jeff Glovsky, Poetry, Writing

Long, Forgetting

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I walk with a bittersweet taste
down these streets, too aware
now I’ll never be home again

Can you hear me?

Furious ghost of my youth!
Angry spirit assails me,
screaming in torment!

Through agonizing streets,
down years, I’ve tasted love
and toppled fears, yet lost you
… things I held most dear

Oh, hear you!

Hear me screaming…

by Jeff Glovsky
more Random Poetix
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by Jeff Glovsky, Poetry, Works in Progress, Writing

Unwritten

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No Babies

Jeff Glovsky / Photo of Jglo

* * *

I’ll start it!  I’ll start the dance!

Fish twist and wish

to be connected.  Primal

tappings into something longing

as the two of us.

Sustained piss shiver, poison throat,

and need.  Quake, flop

and sway a little…Heed the drum

and feed the Hunger flaming

up your Soul …

Conga
by Jeff Glovsky

 

I threw a Poem

and no one came …

 

At the beginning of January,  I posted a few unfinished Random Poetix, and invited participation in adding a line or two.  Though a few of you “liked” this, I only heard silence … There was not one WordSpeak-ing …

So I’ve added my own lines … I play with myself!

* * *

doodle, doodle #1)

certitudes, loud ‘certainties’,

across love covered, self-righteous

breakfast tables

you and I fornever

always


#2)

I’ve woke up broke

before

but not broken

beneath

broken promises,

furious eyes


#3)

In the slice knife that is

A.M., I cut through

to get my things done

Cross Raspail, boulevard Leclerc

I fax a note to dear old Dad …

* * *

Feel free to contribute still …

&

Always be a poet, even in prose.

– Charles Baudelaire

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