Ricardo Fernandez Ortega
A flower is
not a flower.
It is an
illusion floating toward the mirror,
flooding my
astigmatic eyes with hyper-surrealism
as my timid
mind travels in hope
to the unreachable
shelves of my hours.
It has been
silent for a long time
and I can
only listen to the murmur
of my poems
on the screen as if
they were
trying to save me from
my immortal
insignificance
every
single day.
But they
are tired of my blindness,
my complexes
and paradoxes.
They know
my poetic mind won’t
resist much
longer the tasteless duty
of being a
poetess, a poet, whatever.
Poetry will
never make the evening news.
A flower is
not a flower,
a poem is
not a poem
and I am
neither a poet nor a poetess.
Karla
Bardanza
Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2012
