by Glen Martin Fitch
That brilliant paradox
on Keats' Urn would seem
the pinnacle of art.
But truth is rarely beautiful
I've learned
and beauty's seldom truthful,
ask my heart.
In some way
every simile is true,
yet faced with truth
we mostly ask for lies.
While often pretty things
please me and you,
an ugly image
can be fresh and wise:
I get a metaphor.
I pick at it for days.
Perhaps it rose up
from within—
a mental boil,
or maybe something bit me
in my sleep,
or scarred my soul's thin skin.
And when I pull it free,
oh, such delight,
relief as well,
"That's one less poem to write."
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011