Michael Fischer Poems

I clean my room in search
of fragments of old poetry.
I survey every note pad,
every sheet of scrap paper,
...

Let’s play a game I came up with;
We’ll call it a relationship.
You’ll play the distressed martyr;
I’ll play the devil’s advocate.
...

Ah, the sweet blissfulness of nostalgia;
it can be our hand tool
when the crazed institution called life
leaves us as an empty vagabond.
...

Death hides behind the sable clouds
that sweep over the crimson skies.
The mortal beings observe in awe
as the gale presents them with their
...

The victims’ shadows steal the wall
and project our incoming death.
The clock takes away our lifelines
and constricts us in its shackles.
...

Surrounded by barbarians
in their plastic dog eat god world,
I burn in flames of ignorance,
unaware of what will unfurl.
...

The acrobat walks the tightrope
above those stricken with awe.
So many fear his first attempt,
but he makes it look so simple.
...

Soon after the smokescreen clears,
the memories held of us...
our voices, our traits, our faces...
will fade with the setting sun;
...

Fear of failure has failed me again!
I’ve hit rock bottom so many times
that it has become my second home.
I can’t find what I’m looking for...
...

If you ask for my sympathy,
all you’ll get is my apathy.
You drown in insecurity?
Guess what? It doesn’t bother me!
...