This Poem Is
by John Herzog
Oh, this poem.
This poem is so fresh
and so new
that I don't even know the words
to articulate it;
it remains pure,
by cheap metaphors
and one-dimensional imagery.
Much like the day is
when I first wake up at 6:21,
long before my asinine decisions
or exhaustion leave their mark,
while the sun is simply
peeking above the eastern horizon
with its harmonious innocence.
Or like the glimmering January snow
before the ornery commuters trudge through it
in their perpetual hurry,
before the slush and the mud -
while it is still untouched,
shining like a million diamonds
and whiter than the paper on which I write,
Oh, to think the potential,
all I could do with this poem,
but now it's too late.
Author's Note: A thought.
Posted on 12/19/2009
Copyright © 2021 John Herzog
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by V. Blake on 12/19/09 at 11:41 PM|
If this poem is not #1 on the top rated by this time tomorrow, I will lose some faith in the tastes of other readers. It's fantastically clever, superbly written, and is getting added right now to my favorites. Thank you.
|Posted by Kris Mara on 12/22/09 at 11:16 PM|
Agreed -- cleverly written, a great read. I'm glad I came across this gem here!