Glass House : A Collection of Poems


A Collection of Poems by Chris Hague



Spring creeps home in the early hours of the morning

As I am a light sleeper even in hibernation,

I become conscious of her smell as she slips into my bed

She breathes softly on my neck, gently kissing my ear

Biting the fat of the lobe for effect

I feel her slither her hand down my stomach to my loins

It awakes a primal urge inside me

The violent, disgraceful urge to create a dynasty with my seed

She kisses my neck and places my hand upon her bloom

There is a sense of guilt, a deep regretful ache

As Spring pulls me into her, the faces of my other lovers all play in my mind

but still she is the most elusive of all my partners

She is the root of my evolution, the catalyst of my development

She is forceful and decisive as she gyrates upon me

Causing my consciousness to explode deep into her stomach

As it has many times before

But after it is all over, there is no affection from her

She takes my harvest and disappears into the night as I sleep

Summer will be home again soon

and I wonder if she has figured me out.



Your love is like lead in my belly

Cold and metallic, it lines my insides

Giving me the chills

I purge myself, vomiting words of love and hate

Hoping one day to make the chemical go away

I want to see you

For who I want to see you as

But is that you or is that just my own reflection?

I believe I long to receive love from my own image

Projected through your eyes and spoken through your lips

I am the one who swallowed the paint after all

Hoping to touch up my own chipped surfaces



You have gotten good at that

Pretending they don’t exist

The ghosts that haunt your picture frames

Images of faces and places you wish you’d never been

You say there’s no time like the present

Because the past is a nightmare

Does that make the future a dream?

And where does that leave me?

I am the head ghoul

Existing in all 3 dimensions at once

The past, the present, the future

A face you cannot escape

A presence you can easily blame

I inhabit cool dark places

Often times the floor beneath your bed

The place you fear from a childhood you actively reject

Sometimes in a panic you come searching

To check for that haunting figure you pray isn’t there

And I oblige so as to not frighten you

One should be able to enjoy their dreams



What was I thinking coming to this place again?

I swore too many times before that I would resist this urge

But I broke my promise to never speak again

To only exist in written form

Where everything is intentional

But I couldn’t subsist on words alone

Mere text and subtext could not satiate me

I ate through a library but still starved

Emaciated with blue lips when they found my body

And still I did not say a thing

But they did not know I had no interest in being saved

Silent, starving, voiceless and near death

They brought me back and the cycle began again

My legacy was better off

Not as the means, but as the end



You take my breath from me like climbing altitudes

As If I were getting closer to god through your image

A hungry worshipper of a false idol

With the same devout fury

It’s funny though that I will never see you

Smell you

Feel you

Or fear you

You are just an idea

And you can’t fuck an idea