Today's Poem

Today's poem is dead on arrival
It rests heavily on the page
Glowing from the screen
Earnestly trying to find a single small truth
But today's poem is a glutton
Looking back at everything insufferable
Anticipating struggles
Speaking to a generation lost to attention
Pushing, screaming, navel gazing
Today's poem wants to reflect, prepare
Perform a hundred tasks but
One thing well
Opening a portal to a moment of profound honesty
A half-second of epiphany

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2013
Image: Ondrejk

Orange

Poems that rhyme can't use the word
Orange
Because there's no perfect match
Other than the never used sporange,
Which is an unfair derivative of
Sporangium
That only botanists comprehend.
The half-rhyme lozenge is about as close as you can get
To being understood,
Which leaves orange
Among the loneliest of words,
Sad and virtually friendless,
The Nixon of Oxford,
Destined forever to live life in solitary,
Fallow and unemployed.
Yet inside, with silent pride and secret knowledge,
Bursting with delicious desire.

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012
Photo by Per Enström