GARY GLAUBER

GARY GLAUBER

PLAYLIST

My music library is chock full

of melodic souvenirs left

by those whose lives

ended unfairly early.

I’m not talking your typical

rock star overdose,

nor run-of-the mill consequence

of hard partying years

taking their consequential toll.

While I’ve my fair share of those,

my list is more erudite:

the soulful young artist

who died from a rare strain

of testicular cancer mere months

after piecing together a debut album,

the gifted British singer-songwriter

cut down in her prime while vacationing

by a speedboat’s propellers –

wrong place, wrong time;

the prog-rock genius who died

from auto-erotic asphyxiation

just as his career was taking off,

the Tennessee guitarist whose

upbeat & optimistic songs

hid the facts of his life’s battles

with relentless depression,

ending in the silence of suicide.

The list goes on, nuanced,

brilliant, & underappreciated,

a heavenly roster of talents

who could fill a festival’s slots

for days on end,

a ghostly Woodstock

of those who shed this mortal coil

prematurely, but left tunes

I still listen to endlessly

in gracious appreciation

of how the art of music

outlasts the tenuous promise

of earthly survival.

MICROSCOPE

All the funny men

are not so funny when

revealed to have been

sexual predators.

It forces me to reexamine

what I might have thought

was funny in the first place.

Is any of it still funny now?

The world is under fresh scrutiny

& even the song I like

with the catchy hook &

pleasant guitar riffs

dares me to sing along

with its somewhat objectionable

lyrics that objectify women.

That first time I saw the

drop of pond water

in between the thin glass

of the slide holding it in place,

I was amazed.

Teeming with hidden life,

the microscope revealed

strange things swimming

this way & that, squirming

with busy purpose

in a new world outside

my simple purview.

It was shocking then,

a fresh & complex universe

far outside my own.

Again, I now am forced

to look at everything

I thought I knew

as something

redefined as new,

a revolution of revelation,

a necessary perspective.

SUCCESSION

Brown dominates

landscape twixt seasons:

tree trunks & branches,

dead leaves from previous fall,

patches of dirt revealed

under last melting snow.

Soon such dominance fades

to subtle nuance, backdrop

to palette of lusher greens,

infinite in tone & variety

that soon bows again

to bright rainbow chain

of wildflower blossoms.

I too stand between seasons,

witness to the inevitable,

no stranger to time’s process,

yet amazed how each turn of the cycle

still manages to feel so new.

ANOTHER YEAR’S JEST

Take a bite, the serpent suggests,

as if world is mysterious apple.

& temptation is divulged

through aura of tense trepidation.

Solemn overly earnest universe

reveals sorrows, horrors, vulnerability

in vast powers both secret & fleet,

as we pretend rituals affect results.

Visions allay fears, cliffs collapse

in warning of misplayed tumble.

Shining world frays at shadowy edges,

as powerful winds carry us

untethered

onto next surprise & sacrifice.

THE WASN’T

The rubble of our desire,

a picture of desperation,

emotions as weeds climbing

through deep blue shadows,

failed articulations & dares

approaching indigo, frail sadness

slowly evaporating before

what once was rapt attention.

Now there is cold shine

of memory, polished, dried,

& placed on high shelf.

Teach us to grow lemons,

that we might burn yellow fields

after blush of harvest.

Desolate moonscape:

dust & ruts & stunted growth,

abandoned destination

of strangely blackened roots.

A world of not.

Here kissing lips never met,

hands waved in derision,

moving still air

in parabolic waves

of emptiness.

Strangers crash

like limbs needing to fall,

yet we stand still,

silent reminder of hearts

full of young potential,

ancient kindnesses

eroded to rot.

GARY GLAUBER

GARY GLAUBER is a poet, fiction writer, teacher, and former music journalist.  His works have received multiple Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominations. He champions the underdog to the melodic rhythms of obscure power pop. His two collections, Small Consolations (Aldrich Press) and Worth the Candle (Five Oaks Press) and a chapbook Memory Marries Desire (Finishing Line Press) are available through Amazon. This past summer he read selections from his most recent collection at the 2017 NYC Poetry Festival.  He has work forthcoming soon in Ariel Chart, Cultural Weekly, and The Event Horizon.