Narcissi
Narcissi bowing in the breeze;
their adorable awkwardness
surfaces to mind small children
dressed in flowered habiliments
in their very first recital.
Each flowery face reflecting
their image at waters edge
like looking into a mirror
pining away in love with each bow,
their own beauty: yellow and white
petals with cup-shaped central crowns.
I gaze at these comely flowers
and seemingly they are aware
of my presence and smile at me.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Flowery Smile
Flowery smile, flowery smile
As I glance your sparkling eyes.
Flowery smile, flowery smile
Stunning beauty, across the miles.
Flowery smile, flowery smile
Soothe my heart, makes my day shine.
Never give up, never for a while
For heart will fall, with your flowery smile.
poem by Dong Agosto
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Do Not Look At The Mirror
Do not look at the mirror;
there is nothing
but a beauty;
the flowers are important than the vase.
Do look at the mirror
if you are not aiming to
to check on your smile
and to kiss your inner and outer face.
Do look at the mirror
but ask me
I will tell you
what I am seeing and
what I am hearing;
My clairvoyance shows only but your grace.
Do look at the mirror
one smile is enough;
it is your mirror and your face.
poem by Atef Ayadi
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The Mirror Struggled
The mirror struggled; reflecting beauty such as hers
Prescribed a glory in the challenge – a fairytale
Or such as like! To shimmer back hypnotic hues
From auras of her skin – how do mirrors cope?
Hoary tales of pretty adolescent buds
Could never hope to match the tomes of dreamy
Pulchritude apprising us of such a belle as she.
The mirror shone; and as it worked itself, a moment –
Did it overlook the hidden melancholy?
Were melting eyes bedewed–? Florid lips imbued
With mournfulness? The hindrance of the silver glass!
Oh! to seek – to know the meaning of the sorrow!
She (with tearful hair, an image out of heaven)
Never opened up her heart. The mirror struggled.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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How can I empty My Mind?
Came out that emptiness,
Bored of what I was,
Looking at the atom shining somewhere in me,
I looked at wonderful world I entered,
Looking at beauties with beautiful faces,
I was only the faceless,
Wished to have a face!
Result is what I am now,
Facing problems of having a face,
Not seen by myself!
Some say look into mirror,
But mirror showed image which is not me,
How can live this is me looking at image?
In the path I met some one,
They said ' you suffered a lot,
Empty your mind, be happy, '
But how can empty my mind,
So many fill it everyday,
Hungry faces,
thirsty minds,
Needy hands fill compassion,
lusty and greedy, selfish and cruel fill
people fill pain,
Wise one fill wisdom,
Fools fill laughter,
Friends fill it with love and smile!
How can I empty my mind,
When beauty around,
Smiling kids, playing puppies,
Jumping and running kittens,
colourful fragrant flowers,
Surrounded by bees and butterflies,
Green trees with wide hands full of fruits,
All call me to enjoy with them!
Tall standing trees and stubborn mountains,
lakes and oceans full of life,
they fill my mind as much I empty, more they fill!
I emptied mind in meditation,
But the beauty of one who filled beauty in all filled my mind,
How can empty love for that beautiful one,
Who is that beauty in all that's beautiful!
Smiling and loving people,
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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The First Deadly Sin
There once was a women who happened to be graced with beauty. She was adorable from the moment she was born. This wholesomeness lasted throughout most of her life. Her eyes were her greatest asset. They could mesmerize almost any man and hold him captive for as long as she wished.
Unfortunately, this beauty was the only thing she had to offer anyone. Her life was great for as long as this skin-deep gift lasted.
Then came a time, as happens to all of us at some point, where this youthful beauty begins to wane. The lovely face and eyes that she was so popular for had changed. Her image in the mirror was now a face of a unappealing spinster. The beauty gone, so were all the suitors.Then......
In youth her comely grace and eyes entranced
So many suitors. Men accompanied
Her every place she went. A few but glanced
Until they saw her eyes, then joined the stampede.
She enjoyed this charming situation.
It never dawned on her that beauty fades
In time. A slightest of inclination,
the queen of hearts became a queen of spades.
And now the throng of men that used to greet
Her, doesn't bother calling anymore.
Her lengthy lonely nights are not as sweet.
She sits alone and dreams of times before.
So now her mind has gone in seclusion
Loneliness is a foregone conclusion.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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He looks in my heart and the image there
He looks in my heart and the image there
Is himself, himself, than himself more fair.
And he thinks of my heart as a mirror clear
To reflect the image I hold most dear.
But my heart is much more like a stream, I think,
Where my lover may come when he needs to drink.
And my heart is a stream that seems asleep
But the tranquil waters run strong and deep;
They reflect the image that seems most fair
But their meaning and purpose are otherwhere.
He may come, my lover, and lie on the brink
And gaze at his image and smile and drink
While the hidden waters run strong and free,
Unheeded, unguessed at, the soul of me.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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0377 Should be, but
I should be writing a poem
about those small wisps of white cloud
moving unusually fast across a blue blue sky
on their way to somewhere else
as if they're late for an appointment.
I should be writing a poem
about the way the breeze is so gentle
that it seems to have a secret plan with the sun
and the new green leaves
to do something quite extraordinary.
I should be writing a poem
about the way that the trailing geranium leaves
are giving out a scent more white than green
more heavenly than any thought.
I should be writing a poem
about the way that the purple and blue and yellow and white flowers
seem to say nothing but beauty.
I should be writing a poem
but all I can do is gaze in amazement
at what I've seen before
and never seen before.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Unknown Sonata
If I keep on looking at the moon, between the pines;
Leaves of pine cut in halves the mystic light of it,
Sometimes my whole being trembles at this,
I worry because the ancient tree gives me red signals of separation.
Sometimes I think I am incapable of love,
I was never able to hold delicate things in my wretched hands,
leaves, smoke, promises, joys, yellow flowers and your hair my love;
I am incompetent in the life of love, a poor player in the race of love.
Do not forsake me my love, my trophy;
sometimes glance at me as if I am your mirror,
The only difference is that this mirror will shatter in a thousand pieces,
when you open your hair…
This Mirror is incapable of reflecting your beauty,
Accept this miserable mirror,
It is incapable because it cannot forget,
it cannot withstand you without turning to pieces.
poem by Sarang Mangi
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Do Swans smile...?
Do Swans smile? ...
Serenity the note of their bodies' flow
Their secret song but none will know
The water's black and moonbeam's white
Become kin with them in the darkened night
Immaculate white, graceful form
Beauty with placid majesty born
To behold the sight of a Swan in waters adrift
Is for a rose to bloom amidst a heart's mists
A sense of quiet joy, warmly does spring
Her presence in the world a smile does bring
She will move with winds and waters in grace
Though no smile may be seen on Her face
And the poem that is She will linger with whom ever the beholder
A Swan brings the smile of sweet lyric though not worn on Her.
poem by Dilshan Boange
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Beauty Vavroovahana Patra
Beauty stands on the way;
Beautiful face attracts, pervades gay.
Busy poet waits a while for enjoyment;
Beauty’s smile mirrors in mind with merriment.
Behaviour of Beauty is a gift of Almighty;
Beauty’s silvery face attracts lovers with gaiety.
Beloved Beauty is a Heaven’s Fairy;
Beautiful appearance makes the Earth flowery.
Beauty is a Heavenly Deity;
Blossoms love bloom on her face with gaiety.
Body of Beauty is an uncommon attraction;
The bride on the altar allures the lover with affection.
Blooming Beauty smiles delightfully;
Buttery fall enthuses gaily.
Busy poet enchants enjoying the beauty enthusiastically;
Breeze of spring kisses the Bride cordially.
Bright sub beam kisses Beauty delightfully;
Brilliant lover enjoys the art of Nature gaily.
Beauty passes on the way politely;
Beauty’s face reminisces in poet’s mind pleasantly.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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My Mind Was Full Of Ideas This Morning
my mind is full of ideas this morning
while i am walking alone
on the grassy path of this mountainside
i am so tired. I take my rest sitting on a log
rotting under a tree.
i gaze on the ricefields just below this hill.
some white herons as usual fly low
some sparrows regroup themselves and
scatter in an instant like a confetti of dry leaves.
the sun comes out in glory
proclaiming though its reign on this corner
the gumamela flowers on the side of the hills bow down
and bloom again
i am amazed on the beginning of this beautiful day.
The butterflies flutter on the bushes of white petals
of these wild flowers. I see a nest with three small white eggs.
the sound of waters cascading on the creek.
some leaves are carried away. A fish jumps trying to catch
a low flying dragonfly. Some dew begins to lose their
glow on the bamboo leaves.The law of evaporation gets in.
Lost. I am so empty.The window of my heart is open.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Colourful Rose Flower!
Colourful rose flowers give a beautiful idea of pleasure;
Lips of rose petals kiss everyone’s heart with pleasure!
Red rose transports one to the world of love and beauty;
Power of rose among all flowers is undisputed forever!
Red rose is for love, beauty, courage and respect, know!
Yellow rose is for joy, friendship, delight and new bonds!
White rose stands for purity, innocence and humility ever;
Pink rose is gifted for appreciation and thanks for deeds.
Orange rose is for desire, enthusiasm and passion ever!
Lavender rose is linked to love at first sight for all lovers!
Blue rose is for healing, dreams and mystery to be realised
And is recently genetically engineered and produced nice!
Who does not love rose flowers of many colours we see now?
Even rose petals are not left from extracting oil to make perfume!
poem by Ramesh T A
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What Yellow Roses Mean to Me
An image of a yellow rose, growing in my mind's eye,
A fragile and delicate flower,
It's beauty cannot die...
Alive like a baby son;
Always precious in the heart,
For love did not leave, when death made us part.
The beauty of a yellow rose, given to me by the man I love,
From his heart to mine -
The image of true love ~
This rose is for love, a promise of beauty only dreamed,
This rose is for tomorrow, all the joy yet unseen.
(March 2,2001)
The Face of Love
When I gaze upon your countenance
I see all who I have and will still love
and your eyes a blue summer sky
warming the very core of my being
The alabaster perfection of your skin
crowning your lustrous beauty
Your inviting mouth drawing me in
to savour your sweet taste
to guess at your secrets
hidden behind an enigmatic smile
You are like a secret rendezvous
hankered after by all
Time cannot be defined
for you are infinite
in your freedom
Face of my beloved
the face of love
By: Suzette Crous
Inspired by:
The Face of Love
by Ingrid Jonker
Your face is the face of all the others
before you and after you and
your eyes calm as a blue
dawn breaking time on time
herdsman of the clouds
sentinel of white iridescent beauty
the landscape of your contesses (sic) mouth
that I have explored
keeps the secret of a smile
like small white villages beyond the mountains
and your heartbeats the measure of their ecstasy
There is no question of beginning
there is no question of possession
there is no question of death
face of my beloved
the face of love
poem by Suzette Crous
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Innocent Mirror
Look into your mirror
And tell me what you see
Is it really you?
Or someone you cannot be
Don’t look at someone else’s mirror
And tell them who they should be
Looking in their mirror
Will not change what your mirror sees
When you look into your mirror
Are you sure you see yourself?
As you gaze into your eyes
Are you sure your eyes aren’t reflecting someone else?
It’s not the mirror’s fault,
That it reflects someone else
How do you expect a mirror to reflect you
If you don’t know who you are yourself
poem by Mehreen Mujeeb
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Uncle's Shave.
Uncle’s Shave.
You used to watch Uncle
shave in front of the small mirror
propped on the edge
of the kitchen sink,
his face lathered
in white soap,
his cutthroat razor
held just a short distance
from his skin
by his right hand,
as the other hand
held the skin taut
in preparation
of the razor’s slide.
You stood behind
fascinated,
your young eyes
searching the mirror’s world
of Uncle’s face
and the performers start.
Uncle watched you
in the mirror,
his lips breaking
into a small smile,
the razor held
just above his ear,
his eyes staring above
the shaving foam,
taking in
your fascinated gaze,
the open mouth,
your hands copying
Uncle’s motion
in pretend shave.
Uncle drew the razor down
his cheek in slow motion,
the face becoming visible
as the soap gave way,
the hand dipping
the razor in water
to rid of foam,
to begin again,
more soap removed,
more skin revealed.
You copied Uncle,
but not so skilled.
poem by Terry Collett
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Nature's Gift
Being the only flower bearing yellow petals
Growing tall in the center of nature’s garden
Reflecting the sunlight and dancing in
The gentle early springtime breeze-
My stem would bend perhaps and
Perhaps touch the thorns of pink and red roses-
Though only for the moment-
Roses being the most popular blossoms,
People would come and cut them down,
Place them in a vase where they would
Fragrantly and aesthetically decorate their home-
For just a few days before they wither and die-
Being a wildflower, no one cares to cut me down-
Today all of the other flowers have seemingly disappeared,
Either removed by residents of nearby homes or
Their petals blown away by an occasional gust of wind-
I remain alone amongst grasses and forever growing weeds.
Being the only flower amongst grasses, weeds, shrubs and trees,
I am content to be present – enchanted when the rain falls and
Having the space for my petals to spread and open-
So different from the roses, though beautiful to see-
Shall be robbed of their glory, cut and a few days later
They shall perish and be thrown away.
Being beautiful and loved by people has always been
Nearly everybody’s greatest dream, but for me-
Perhaps not as fragrant and lovely to look at-
Being none but an ordinary wild flower, though
I am delighted to be part of nature’s bounty- and
I believe that a longer life,
Being here to experience continued growth, and
Basking in the sunlight day by day and then
Sometimes feeling refreshed by the moisture of the rain-
Is more meaningful and is more rewarding than
Beauty, popularity and fragrance that often
Terminates even before we see the season end..
poem by Claudia Krizay
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The Mirror...
I Looked At The Mirror
Mirror, Looked Back At Me
I Asked The Mirror
What Do You See?
The Mirror Smiled
“Same As You See”
I Touched The Mirror
The Mirror, Touched Me
Pressing To Break Thru
Glass Vanity
For Tho’ Eye To Eye
Sometimes I See
Mirror’s Right
Is Left To Me
And My Right Side … Made Mirror Left
I Got Perplexed At Imagery
And I Turned Away From Mirror
And Mirror Turned From Me
Our Backs To Each Other
Exposed Rigidly
But, Both Turned Back To Face
And Touch Same Place, And Be
Contained and Content
In Each Other’s Space Respectfully
We Shattered The Barrier
Between Mirror and Me
Back To Reflecting Our World
And The Same Things, We See …
Oh … Mirror, Mirror …
Reflecting You … Seeing Me …
poem by MoonBee Canady
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I See The Image That The Mirror Is Reflecting
I see the image that the mirror is reflecting
And right away I know that the image that the mirror is sending through
The mirror is of you
That at the same time I find it to be beautiful
Because it leaves me also speechless
In no time
poem by Aldo Kraas
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The Heart Of God
Oooooo I'm really scared
Love and hate flared
-First act your tsunami-
The beauty of distraction
All sin's destruction
I am the sinner
Reflecting your mirror
Your clay's inner
My soul's sheerer
Owwwwe I'm really scared
Love and hate flared
-Second act your volcano-
Melting lava and sulfur air
Showing off your flair
The beauty of distraction
All sin's destruction
I am the sinner
Reflecting your mirror
Your clay's inner
My soul's sheerer
Ooooooo I'm really scared
Love and hate flared
-Third act your earthquake-
Dislodging all foundations
Fuming your frustrations
The beauty of distraction
All sin's destruction
I am the sinner
Reflecting your mirror
Your clay's inner
My soul's sheerer
Owwwwe I really don't care
For I am human
Therefore I am
The heart of God
You devil cannot dissolve
My faith's resolve
The beauty of distraction
All sin's destruction
I am the sinner
Reflecting your mirror
God's clay inner
My soul's sheerer
Copyright Leaking Pen 2012
September 16,2012
poem by leaking Pen
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