Glen Martin Fitch

Glen Martin Fitch Poems

The faces stare out
chiseled proud and bold
with polished cheeks,
their character defined.
...

Just like a child
I always long
to be with you
and when I'm not
...

I learned this ballad in my youth.
Perhaps the tale will bring you joy.
Our elders tell our people of
The Fall of Troy.
...

Step up and check 'em out.
Oh, don't be shy.
You like disaster? horror?
Got this from a plane seat neighbor.
...

The speeding carts
in darkness lunge and squeal,
(eyes glow then fade)
down through a dragon's jaw,
...

I worshipped you.
I followed you about
to copy every move.
But I felt doomed to fail
...

First ears: I would like two.
One either side,
I'm not a cubist.
Eyes:
...

A toddler's life
is wonderful and strange.
From innocence through pain
we come to know
...

Whatever! Sure!
What's your bizarre request?
I've worn assorted panties,
briefs and thongs for others,
...

I envy them.
I watch them serve, receive.
The forehand, backspin, smash,
each smacked with care.
...

Ideas sprout.
Words shoot out of my pen
like unsown seeds
that never knew a hand
...

My leaven makes my muffins rise.
My eggs are never runny
My pudding could take any prize.
My secret? Not for money.
...

13.

Once bride and groom were bound.
Each marriage planned at birth.
Of course divorce was not a choice.
Romantic love
...

'... As she saw nothing but young men all day long...this sight of her fellow-traveler was completely lost in her mind, as the crooked pin dropped by a child into the wishing-well twirls in the water and disappears forever.”
Virginia Woolf Jacob's Room

I bet you don't remember me.
...

Once more.
Please notice how
I keep it taut
by only letting out a bit.
...

I had it figured out.
It just made sense.
I thought
to ease the pain
...

Some driver cut me off
in my commute.
I swore.
At work I told a friend
...

Upon the cellar door 
I wrote my name in chalk. 
I scrawled it backwards 
to avoid detection. 
...

Though seldom seen 
he's always hanging 'round.
You're never safe.
He'll elbowed his way in.
...

I can't undo
what stupidly I've done.
To face embarrassment
I'd rather die.
...

Glen Martin Fitch Biography

I'm a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century.)

The Best Poem Of Glen Martin Fitch

Mount Rushmore

The faces stare out
chiseled proud and bold
with polished cheeks,
their character defined.
No monument shows
heroes silly, kind or frail.
These giants look down
stoic, cold.
You face the world
resolved to make your day.
You strut and lean in
to intimidate.
When charm won't trick,
you'll then manipulate or bully
to insure you get your way.
But like geologists
who chip then name each strata,
I have tracked your faults and
mapped your self-contempt,
your molten fury,
trapped deep pits of prejudice,
frustration, shame.
Your fierce facade
is just a thick veneer to hide
your guilt and
cowardice and fear.

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