Made of Glass

[tectak]

I’m made of glass,
seen through but never seen,
my pane is clear
and invisible. OK. Let's look on this. If we are to run with metaphor then "I'm MADE of glass" would do it....but  you avoid the wish fulfillment by a whisker. In this stanza you make little effort (or choose not) to create meter. That's OK...but without the bondage you could begin with "I AM glass". You are  now free to become a generic silicon based talking material rather than the metaphorical you. Which is it to be?We shall see.

I give vision,
imparted through my naked self, Hmm. Generic silicon. "Imparted through" is semantically inept. Imparted by.
that light so warm "that" connects by dependency two non-interdependent phrases. Some mistake here. Lose the "that"...it is wrongly and superfluously used.
leaves me cold. Forgive me if I expect to be bored by a list of characteristics of glass dressed in human clothing...without actually anthropomorphising. This is a difficult trick to pull off and I fear it will all go predictably cliche shaped. So far we have a poor duality of meaning with "pane" as in window ( and riddle-me-re humanity),  spectacles then greenhouse glass. Where will it all end...a broken heart of glass?A splintered shard? Meltdown? We shall see

I long to be touched,
like when in those days long ago, "like when in those..." is poor english. It is not possible to compare with the "like" word  a "longing" to a "time". Almost  childish. Is that the intent? Better to assume that you are literate glass. "I long to be touched, as I was long ago, by a child's playful (?) finger, transcribing a smile. ..." Your poem.
a child’s playful finger
placed a smile upon me.

But, such children were scolded, but me no buts. You do not need to "but" your way out of an argument. No one is arguing.
and I was cleaned,
by chemicals
and frowns. It is going down the pan. This is an extruded stanza. It must be a relief to get it out but it is still going down the pan.  Flush and get off the seat. There is a nice thought in this but you have not done it justice...and THIS may prove to be an overall problem with the grossly distended metaphor. Sometimes the "idea" is clear as...well...glass, at other times it is a dripping riddle....a list of abstractions and strained links. Because the "poetry" has no redeeming features (meter, rhyme, imagery, precision, depth) it is now tedious. I actually want the whole piece to come to a conclusive end....or just end. Sorry

Though my being is fragile,
I have an unyielding heart,
a portal for two worlds
which I hold wide open. Ahaaaaa! I have it! Let me guess....you're glass, right?

The east and the west,
heaven and earth,
meet together through me,
my holy privilege. Holy? Explain....or clarify

For this I was made,
a paradox of proverbs,
profound and alone, alas..
I’m made of glass. No. Trite and without reasoned purpose. A  lonely glass? Parodoxical proverbial glass? What is "this"? You do not say.

Hi starsman,
You try too hard. This kind of thing is almost impossible to turn in to to something poetic...it comes from that old first year secondary  school reliever,"Now class, I want you to imagine you are a bottle (brick, log, chisel, ice cube, lump of plasticine) and write 500 words on how you feel. (while I go off for a fag)". Occasionally, my teacher (retired) wife tells me, something exceptional comes out of it, though it was never so in her 40 years of teaching. Better to be something specifically and knowingly of interest and go completely anthropomorphic. A pane of glass in a gay bar toilet would do it, or a glass eye at the zoo, or or..well, you get the idea.
Just remember one thing...if you are invisible then you are also blind. Write on.....
Best,
tectak

Poet's note: There are some parts of this poem I really don't like, but am feeling a little stuck on how to improve it. I'd love to see if you can spot those points and reveal some better ideas to me. Don't hold back, I love to know my weaknesses. Thank you in advance for your time and thoughtful words.