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Sons, Mothers, and Shooting Stars
by Glenn CurrierI walk up this road
thinking of mothers and babies
wondering if they have diapers
and warm water
wishing to hear children sing
Oh, the haze and the maze inside me
That window joyfully welcomed the sun
our arguments spiced our neighbors' evening meals
the handsome policeman winked at me
I saw my first shooting star
the window opened me
but now I see him coming
Oh, the haze and the maze inside me
I see him looking my way
does he see me looking his
he's younger than I
my mind turns to Mecca
my left eye closes
I convince myself he is old enough
to be my enemy
Oh, the haze and the maze inside me
I see him taking his first steps
his first date
his last exam
his uniform
hiding his fear under excitement
assuring me he'll be fine
and to save that wine
the tears on my lips moisten his hair
Oh, the haze and the maze inside me
I asked him if he'd take that road alone
houses looked still
Sarge I sure will
see what Guards I can kill
but his voice cracked
and his smile got lost
between his courage and fear
Oh, the haze and the maze inside me
I saw her through the window
imagined her 10 years younger
slowly she receded
just before the warmth
succeeded in becoming pain
and I fell--noticing the rifle
in the window across the street
Oh, the haze in the daysÂ… 03/31/2003 Posted on 04/01/2003
Copyright © 2026 Glenn Currier
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Ashok Sharda on 04/01/03 at 04:22 PM 'the haze and the maze inside me' or is it within as well as without. You have created scenes of this hazy paths, one leading to the other. Theirs no escape from this labyrinth.This becomes obvious when the haze is visible in the broad d ay light. What is to be done? Is there any escape route from the labyrinth of escape routes? Its better to adopt a posture of a silent observer, one who can see but would not see. I wonder if the CROWD, atleast can SEE this haze.
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| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 04/03/03 at 01:00 PM There is something powerfully stirring in here, something quite constrastual and enigmatic. something obvious, something mysterious, something near with feelings of far away. And all encircling that powerful phrase, the window opened me. Wonderfully done, Glenn. |
| Posted by Betania Tesch on 04/06/03 at 03:51 AM well I think my stomach just fell through the ground. all of this killing...all of this fever...I feel it pulling the life out of me. the haze and the maze...there it is. goddess. this means your poem is good, by the way. |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 04/09/03 at 02:10 PM ...glenn, wonderful words ... we are pictured in your mosaic of humanity ... sons, brothers, mas and pas etc., you weave a good one here!! i'd go with a standin O !!!! chaz |
| Posted by Ken Harnisch on 04/09/03 at 02:21 PM the absolute best anti-war literature, be it novel, play or poem, never shouts its message...never drums you over the head with it..it just makes you think...thank you Glenn for helping us all think! |
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