Emile Pinet Poet Rhyme

Notes About The Poem

The Madness Starts

I'm awakened by the scream of steam
from a spicy coffee-scented dream.
Sleep can't ignore that piercing sound,
nor the scent of fragrant beans fresh ground.

Knowing that the day's schedule is tight,
I head for work while traffic's still light.
For the city crawls at its peak rush,
and many cars get caught in the crush.

Bumper to bumper, the madness starts,
jostling for position stresses hearts.
And when hot engines stall, tempers flare,
drivers get mad and begin to swear.

A serpentine line of rust and paint
slinks forth, fueling constant complaint.
And exhaust fumes seep into the car
as it creeps ahead, windows ajar.

Flashing brake lights, or a honking horn,
invites the finger and instant scorn.
Time inches forward trying to pass
flattened tires and shards of broken glass.

I arrive safely, despite the squeeze,
and parking my car, tensions ease.
Later, I'll need to fight my way back,
or leave early, and beat the rat pack.


(Rhyme)


10/17/2017

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Line Gauthier May 23, 2018 at 10:28 PM Love your depiction of weekday rise and the craziness of rush hour traffic. Well penned, Emile.

Hannah Borke October 17, 2017 at 5:10 PM I enjoy mundane rhyming poems, and I enjoyed this! (My comment isn't intended to be tit for tat, as my current poem is bland, though the previous is good) Emile Pinet October 17, 2017 at 7:17 PM Thanks Hannah, I appreciate your comments and support, Emile.