Perhaps you are right,
You are here for
little more than sorrow,
twisted ambiguity,
languishing in torrential rain

But what if you are wrong
And you are here to
transcend the sorrow,
clear the ambiguity
and dance in the sun

Were you to be as sure of the
latter as you are of the former,
how differently would you
live this day?

My beloveds,

Please stop seeking me out
in the eyes of every stranger whose form you find appealing
In every evening’s masquerade, serenaded by dime store boom boom playing through bar room speakers

Release the idea that I’m somehow hiding inside of the lover to whom you’ve chained yourself, just waiting for you to release me from a hidden tower

I’m not.

It breaks my heart to watch your aimless searching, pressing up against writhing bodies, then torturing yourself with the notion that you somehow had the one that got away

You didn’t.

Forgive yourself the notion that your sole purpose in this lifetime is to seek someone with whom to share it as it only leaves you searching in places that I simply can not be found.

I am not the destination, I am the journey.  

I am not the answer, I am the question.

I will not find you the moment that you stop looking for me.  
I will find you the moment that you find yourself,
Somewhere along the path that leads you to who you might become 
should you begin to walk it

You seem to think that somehow we are playing hide and go seek, 
and that I am right behind the chair, eternally eluding you

But the truth is I am somewhere down the path between where you started and your potential, while you’ve not even left the living room

You did not come here seeking love.  
You are love and you came here seeking answers. 
Please start asking the questions. 
Who are you?  
What do you want?  
Why are you here? 
Why did you come?
What might you become should you decide to become it?

You, the all powerful, that came to human form, born into the maelstrom to learn, to teach, to be, 
and yes, even to love, 
though you knew that you would suffer, 
You have forgotten who you are and why you came

Brave one, made of light,
you don’t need to look any further to find me.  
You are me and I am you. 
And once you’ve left this form 
you will again remember that you are love and light 
and have never and will never be alone.

But, if only you could wake up while you’re still here, 
then yes, you could change the world.  
You would bend the universe.
And that which you are looking for would find you, 
undistracted, unrestrained, and beautiful, 
at which point I will slip my hand into yours 
and then you won’t remember a moment before I arrived.

Please stop seeking me out in the eyes of every stranger whose form you find appealing

Your life is calling.  
Please pick it up.  

You’ll find me on the other end of the line.

It all disconnects
when you least expect

'it all  comes loose'
is what they inferred.

And now
I'm bound together with
tapes and strings
my bits and things
jiggle and jangle

life's a sparkle
when you're holding
it in.


the old malefactor
factors in,
you can't have equations
without any sin.

Been there where I've been
deemed it unfit
seen more too through
bloodshot eyes
which is a great disguise if
you're happy that way.

The universe made worse
by radio waves,
electronic signals which are
cordless reminders of what's
there behind us

Some eyes somewhere out there
are looking in,

next door to me, Mrs hodges
number 123
plays patience impatiently,
waiting
because I said,
I'd go there for tea.

unlikely now.
and anyhow
it's the thought that counts
isn't it?

The dark oaks’ gentle rhythm
caresses the faltering twilight
and a dim sadness creeps
into the receding day -
a pendulous cloud upon me lay.

In the hotel room
a hazy hint of doom
my limbs are weary
my mind made bleary
by the thickness of the day.

Mind you, this is but one moment in a journey,
but the glories of last week are swiftly fading
the darkness, a stealthy force invading.
I even wonder if death
might actually relieve
or even lift this aging me.

In my early sleep
images gently pass before me.

The greenness of Oregon,
its forests of fir sublime snow-capped mountains to climb beaches and surf
flung from the Pacific’s
awesome depths. Images and memories
of this emerald State,
and its coastal cottages
breach my fatigue and float me
into comfort and the peace
of deep blessed sleep.

I awaken from these restful wanderings
wondering about the passages of this journey.

Yes, we traveled the outside:
through babbling bubbling Portland
up and down Eugene’s hills
Salem’s capitol, shops, bars and grills
we drank craft beers, ate fish and chips,
spoke of the coming solar eclipse
storied ourselves to the sea
saw gulls and kids play in sandy glee.
All of these you could see, snap and post.
But the hidden passages strike me most.

As this journey ends
I reflect, I feel, I soar
through the opened doors
and windows - I see inside
what we’ve tried to deflect or hide.

Behind my tears she saw the pain and gain
heard my weakness when I’m drained
saw the joy in my little boy
finding gifts and a big man’s toy.

I watched her speaking with her hands
walking gently as if to caress the sands
not sparing self-critical comparing
telling stories of movies and hikes
and trips across America on bikes
I saw her in her sparkle-eyed girl
heard a woman who been IN
but not OF the world.

Maybe leaving this body behind
is not so horrible and baleful
not so very unimaginable
as when I was young
for now there are fewer songs unsung.

As I began this ballad
I was down and pallid.
And it’s true - the surprises of my life
are no longer popping or rife
with excitement and the new
of audition, graduation and debut.
Instead, now I’m alive and wild
with journeys of faith and love
hearts made of gold
and serene searches of soul.

“Oregon Passages,” Copyright © 2017 by Glenn Currier

Forget
What
Hurt
You
But
Never
  Forget
What
It
  Taught
You

You see my face and race comes first.
I walk around and I feel cursed.
You greet me with "Ni hao!",
expect me to take a bow?
I filled the bathtub; go in headfirst.

I heard the dawn whisper

"Hope is on the horizon"

Just as her Sun rose
clothed in copper orange
eclipsing the shimmer
of earths waters
with soul piercing rays

Illuminating the day forwards
like flames winged with healing
engulfing paths with the brightness
found in the joy of wisdom

Imparting strength
in the sure vision
of understanding...

Hope IS on the horizon

                    © Qwey.ku

i am sitting in a taxi cab
reading poetry
and thinking
that there must be some metaphor
hidden here
some deep meaning
something greater than just a woman
reading poetry in a taxi cab
a thought
something like
i am the only one who does this
and that my beauty lives in choosing
poetry to fill my days with
something like
this is what will make someone
fall in love with me
but maybe
maybe the poetry in this moment
maybe the greatest thing in all of this
is that i am a woman
reading poetry in a taxi cab.