Poetry

Harbor

/ Glenna / Leave a comment

A life without breath is unable to fill the cracks
left by the impact—
stone against bone.
Forgiveness is easy, acceptance is
unavailable.

Glide through a clear, suspicious sky.
Past naïve dirt groves and
submarine streets, where
saline speeches cease to
matter.

Stumble through kerosene
kisses left by lovers
drowning with honor
and regret.

Picture pin-ups laid
across swollen steel, sliding
past olive branches, and seaweed, and
Aloha.

Tip-toe the line
separating dizzy from dismal.
Wonder
if you are the man you thought you would be.

Glenna Lynne Schubert

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(Only) Seeing Red

/ Glenna / 1 Comment

A generation sits
devoid of inspiration
to put words to page:
page turner—turning point—point blank range.

Shots fired.

She should be beautiful.
Coca-cola red explodes, like a shaken bottle flowing,
with syllables following
the curve of her body.

Eyes close to a clown’s nose open
on a sugar-coated, color-coded, overloaded
mess.
Distress!

A toro to its cape;
a planned escape.
The hero dies.
Lucy cries,

“Ricky, this is it.”

Glenna Lynne Schubert

**This poem was published in the Fall 2009 issue of Wooden Teeth, The George Washignton University Literay Magazine. You can find out more information on their website here: http://studentorgs.gwu.edu/woodenteeth