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

Lonely Sailor

Someone said
A writer writes because he has
No choice.
That it's like breathing,
An involuntary response to
Holding a freshly sharpened pencil
Or sitting at a keyboard,
A disease.
Writers peck at immortality
Recognition
Flirt with fame
But mostly must be focused on
The next elusive paycheck
From teaching or milking cows.
They write because it's what they do,
Hoping to corral large inspiration to convey small truths,
At best.
Writers yearn for a single gentle reader
Who will say she understands
Even if she doesn't.
Oh, poet,
Lonely sailor,
Lusting for a wind gust
Or a pod of dolphins to show the way.

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com 2012
Photo: anoldent