Poem

Poem #14You say my poems are all so dark,Devoid of light or hope or positivity,Rendering this transactional worldAs revenge, as forced reciprocity.Ok, I ’ll try again.I ’ll remove that metaphor And show you my son.Instead of a rhyme I ’ll peel this orangeAnd take my damn time.The juice that squirts you in the eyeCould have been avoidedWith a much closer reading.That citric sere is the same painOf looking up at a solar eclipse.I can strip it all down,Naked and raw and bare.No more showing the windBy the tremoring of leaves in the trees.That thing you know as breezeIs just the ever present Stillness that kneels for prayer.I'm trying to soften the edgesOf directness so it doesn't hurt.When it stops being a poemIt reverts to the original seedThat I ’ll plant any damn place I please.6/1/20

Source: Buckeye Surgeon - May 31, 2020 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs