Buddha Steps # 7
take all of your clothes off!
stand in front of a long mirror.
there you are!
no costumes, no makeup, no lies.
just you.
greying, wrinkled, toes and fingers
bent;
shadows under your eyes,
bruised, and worn.
there you are!
in all the beauty
of years and scars.
breathing, aching, just being.
lifetimes and stories written
in human flesh, and hope.
beauty!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
What's In Your Heart
True beauty is in the way she laughs
True beauty is in her eyes
True beauty is how she acts
True beauty is inside
True beauty is unseen
True beauty is only felt
True beauty is not mean
True beauty is herself
True beauty can't be cruel
True beauty is bare
True beauty lies within you
True beauty is always there
True Beauty can't be covered with makeup
True beauty means true love
True beauty can't be baked up
True beauty is the flight of a dove
True beauty has no flaws
For True beauty is all that matters after all
poem by Ricky Baker
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Is There Any Truth in Beauty?
Is there any truth in Beauty?
What of the lies beauty tells thee?
Could my beauty not be as worthy
As I make thy Beauty part of me?
Such is Beauty as to make one's sight loud.
This beauty that veils our sense in a shroud.
beauty: that which deters seeing the person.
Does Beauty not conceal what is and isn't?
Yet merciless time holds beauty as a hostage,
Defiles Beauty and scars it with lasting ravage.
Thus the years that pass send Beauty to its resting-place
For vain beauty will yield, to woefully fall from grace.
If beauty should ever lament on age's cruelty,
Let not Beauty forget how little it has wept for me.
True beauty
True beauty is in the way she laughs
True beauty is in her eyes
True beauty is how she acts
True beauty is inside
True beauty is unseen
True beauty is only felt
True beauty is not mean
True beauty is herself
True beauty can't be cruel
True beauty is bare
True beauty within you
True beauty is always there
True Beauty can't be covered with makeup
True beauty means true love
True beauty can't be baked up
True beauty is the flight of a dove
True beauty has no flaws
For True beauty is all that matters after all
all rights reserved to Jean Melanie Pullman
poem by Jean Pullman
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For Shadow, For Dust!
the old woman,
face bruised and wrinkled,
clothes dirty and worn...
lies alone in the bed,
except for the cat...
shadows whisper, she moans,
as if closing a book.
even the hungry walls are silent...
the pages of the book
tattered and yellowed.
her teeth broken or gone,
her fist clenched tight,
the comfort of no one,
the prayer to no god.
the clock on the wall ticks amen...
her spirit taken, her fist opened,
a bag of trash falls in the corner,
the old cat runs for shadow,
for dust...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Beauty Is Truth
Natural beauty of nature
Is like a beautiful damsel.
She needs no makeup or perfume
To enhance her physical beauty-
Her beauty is truth, period.
An anonymous wildflower
Growing with delicate fragrance
Beside a forests time-worn path
Can't be anymore lovelier
If plucked and placed within her locks;
Nor her comely grace be improved.
Their "beauty is truth, truth beauty"
Apart they are most beautiful;
In concert they accent the whole.
On a Grecian urn:
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty"
All we need to know.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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We Who Grieve... (Lights The Way)
we who grieve are the children of journey,
we bear the scars of human failure.
our hearts are bruised, our backs are bent,
our feet determined and weary.
we who search the darkness to know the light,
who are the beat and hunger of human existence.
who cannot separate the suffering of those in need,
who know that walls are bridges not crossed.
we who stink of loss and sweat pure sin,
who enter the temples of the dispossessed.
who would love the unwanted whatever the cost,
whose god lives in the mirror of human eyes.
we who find wealth in lives discarded,
who know that truth has a thousand faces.
who follow the wind without destination,
who know the joy that wipes the last tears.
for we are yesterday, today, and tomorrow!
we are the dawn that comes in spite.
we are the fire in the barren cave,
we are the faith that brings the child....
the star of flesh that lights the way!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Mirror
Standing in front of the mirror,
The reflection tells me to look behind.
The focus of the mirror is myself,
And also what lies behind.
I can move to the left,
I can move to the right,
But to the mirror I am always within it's sight.
As are things past.
I look out a window,
It tells me to see what lies ahead.
In the window, I do not see myself.
I see others.
I see nature's beauty unfolding.
I know I am there,
But I am just merely a part of the surroundings.
To the mirror, it is all about me.
The mirror tells me to worry about how I look.
The window tells me to worry about how the world looks.
The eyes are the window to the soul.
Not the mirror.
The mirror deceives.
To the mirror, everything is backwards.
As I look into my own eyes.
My soul becomes filled with self.
As I look into the eyes of another.
My soul becomes filled with life.
While the mirror holds my reflection.
It is the window that holds the truth.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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My Love In A Mirror
She stood there
looking at herself...
at the beauty God bestowed on her
in front of this mirror
I stood behind her, wrapping my soul around her
my dark brown arms against her pale skin,
covering her nakedness
in front of this mirror
Our bodies stirred, feeling the fire
remembering our lovemaking earlier,
and previous times we have stood here
in front of this mirror
Like this very moment, her eyes
arresting me, her soul possessing me,
the warmth of my body against hers
in front of this mirror
poem by Pablo Loves Life
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Into The Looking Glass
Who is viewer
of own reflected image?
Do you see en-fleshed
reality as youth,
radiant in bullet proof
life, embracing beauty,
or age en-fleshed;
as ancient life survivor?
Is held looking glass
in the hand of age or beauty?
Interesting is what each
woman sees, the now of youth,
or lined reality, of age
or memories of youth; that linger.
Some gaze deeply into
the glass, past surface experience.
Through the eyes of seeing
through eye of inner soul.
Does the young man see
in his face, reflection of girlfriend?
Is the sparkle in his eyes,
for her or the girl, he hopes to find?
Does he seek one or many?
The wild ones, are ever attractive.
Does the girl see the bride?
A man to be moulded into marriage?
Do people really desire
to see, themselves in the mirror?
Or do they look with hope
or dreams, fitting flesh accordingly?
Changing hair perfume clothes,
shape, is cosmetic transition.
Others re-sculpture entire body
to create, plastic fantastic.
Those who cannot stand reflection
find form, in hall of mirrors.
Reflections born of desire can be
mind interactive, blade dreams.
Some hate image bent through years
while others, embrace soul’s journey.
Remember quote 'A monkey is superior
to man, in that when it looks in the mirror,
all it sees is a monkey.’ Yet this is not true,
a monkey sees status and primacy paramount.
Each monkey sees, own others, integral place
interactive, dependent place; within the troop.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Your Mirror
I've got to stand up for myself
This society don't care about nobody else
I've got to be strong
Even if i know the feeling is wrong
I've got to not care
Even if i know this world is meant to
Share
Wait a minute. this is wrong
Even the birds still sing their faithful song
And your beauty lies within you
Look in the mirror baby
Look in the mirror baby
What you gonna do when your friends have
Gone away
And deserted you
You'll have to be strong
24 hours can seem so long
You're taught to not care
And then not realise this world is meant to
Share
Wait a minute. this is wrong
Even the birds still sing their faithful song
And your beauty lies within you
Look in the mirror baby
Look in the mirror baby
We've got to stand up for ourselves
Even if a leader so cold wants to glory himself
We've got to be strong
Even if our reasons seem wrong
We've got to not care
Even if the world we know may not even
Be here
Hold it! it's wrong
Even the birds still sing their faithful song
And your beauty lies within you
Look in the mirror baby
Look in the mirror baby
You know i'd do almost anything you want
Hey, i try to give you everything you need
I'll see that it gets to you
I don't believe in many things
But in you i do
You know i'd do most anything you want
Every day i, i try to give you everything you
Need
We'll always be there for you
I don't believe in many things
But in you i do
song performed by by Simply Red
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beauty of a Woman
The beauty of a woman lies in her silence
Rather than her speech
The beauty of a woman lies in her patience
Rather than her inquisitiveness outreach
The beauty of a woman lies in her experience
Rather than her age
The beauty of a woman lies in her veil for awhile
Rather than her face
The beauty of a woman lies in her submission
Rather that her dominance
The beauty of a woman lies in her smile
Rather than her laughter
The beauty of a woman lies in her abode
Rather than her adventure
The beauty of a woman lies in her offspring
Rather than herself ever
The beauty of a woman lies in her heart's spring
Rather than in skin cover
Shashikant Nishant Sharma
(शशिकांत निशांत शर्मा ‘साहिल')
poem by Shashikant Nishant Sharma
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Become a beautiful person...
Beauty lies in kindness,
Beauty lies in honesty…
Blend them together,
Become a beautiful faculty….
Beauty lies in love,
Beauty lies in grin…
Rapped them together,
Become a beautiful being…
Beauty lies in care,
Beauty lies in your expressions…
Brew them together,
Become a beautiful person…
poem by Sumita Datta
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Tiny Deaths
you rip the clouds
from the sky itself....
head swaying side to side,
eyes lost in the museum
of feelings too long denied.
babbling odes to the gods,
breathing breath stolen
from a primeval forest....
naming the color
beneath shadows,
your fingers buried
in my hair!
tiny deaths....
postcards written in flesh!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Part Of The Wall
I know you just don't fit in,
I know no one likes you,
I know what you are going through.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Do I fit into the human race?
Or will I be part of the wall?
You were born with superpowers,
The ones that make you invisible girl,
You look at your self and say ugly,
But when I do I see beauty.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Do I fit into the human race?
Or will I be part of the wall?
You just love your self,
Cause you don't fit in,
Yeah, I know what that fells like.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Do I fit into the human race?
Or will I be part of the wall?
Close your eyes,
And think of the friends you have,
Laughing with you,
You are popular in my eyes.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Do I fit into the human race?
Or will I be part of the wall?
You are the wall paper,
Reds, green, and blue,
You might never fit in,
But don't worry,
I'll be friends with you.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Do I fit into the human race?
Or will I be part of the wall?
Ohhhhhhh
La, la, la, la, la
Ohhhhhhh
La, la, la, la, la
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Do I fit into the human race?
Or will I be part of the wall?
poem by Brianna King
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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
m irror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
mirror mirror mirror - mirror mirror mirror
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Shattering Mirrors
looking in the mirror its no longer me
just a broken lifeless shell is all i see
wearing the makeup and the right clothes
the fake smile, it all puts on a show
behind the mask lays scars and bruises
so much hurt tucked away, kept hidden
the brokenness that cuts painfully deep
i see the words you scornfully screamed
and how slicing in deep they do sink
they steal anything good that's left in me
within my reflection i despise every part
the mask claiming everything's alright
when inside everything is torn apart
looking in the mirror i see my struggles
how i try so hard to be so much better
your perfect mold i always try to please
to the point of dying just to be so thin
though never good enough i am again,
looking in this mirror i hate every piece
my eyes stare back always criticizing
revealing every ugly hidden memory
forcing a smile again to keep such an act
though i am tired of this masked charade
broken down, i am unsure of another day
shattering the mirror into many pieces
is this really me? i'm aching for clarity
looking into the mirror's broken shards
i see so clearly its perfectly reflecting
this shattered image of mine i truly see
and i wonder if forever broken i will be
poem by Silentpoet Grl
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A Poem For Elyssa
What will I see
appearing before me
when she types her heart
and her thoughts out for me
Will it be sweet,
Will it be majestic,
but even if it doesn't
it's still beautiful, you see
It's not your talent
that gives your poem beauty,
neither it's skill nor wits
that gives it the punchline hits...
but it's the reflection of who you are
on the blank paper I will see
that gives it its breathing life
the way it ought to be.
Perfection is not the answer
nor it is technique or book-bound knowledge,
but it is the embracing of who you are
and the harmony in the acceptance
between your self and your mirror...
for man is never perfect
- such is the true human nature
that God knew since Creation...
flawed, to its very core
yet beautiful at His own accord.
The beauty our Creator sees,
the beauty of all beauty:
That, is the beauty I know.
Wilson Khor W.H. @ Seymour Nightweaver
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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Makeup
When you wake up in the morning
And you put the makeup upon your face
Do you try to cover up the age and lines
Or only the sins and deceptions and the disgrace.
Do you try to place on a happy smile
By putting bright lipstick upon your lips
Or do you try to cover up your own hard life
Something that someone like you never forgets.
And as you look into your mirror
Do you powder the many lines upon your face
The lines that has stretched from years ago
Unto the present days of your life and waste.
Do you try to cover up the bags under your eyes
From all the many restless and sleepless nights
The nights when you cared not where you went
As long as you went and held on to someone tight.
Do you place the powder upon your cheeks
To make you look so cheerful and so very nice
But as they say you cant judge a book by its cover
And if they knew you, they need only to think twice.
And as you are preparing yourself for the day
With your makeup in front of you and on the shelf
Does it take you a little longer to put it on each day
As you try to cover yourself up and become someone else.
The makeup you have will you pass it along one day
And then show someone else how to cover up their lines
Maybe your sisters or even maybe your daughters
That is though if they need to cover up their lying.
And do you ever step back away from your mirror
Do you ever try to look at yourself as a whole
Does it ever bring tears into your heart and eyes
Do you ever wish that you still had a soul.
So as your prepare to start your brand new morning
With your lipstick and powders and so much more
Do you ever wish that you could just wash your face clean
And never have to cover up your ways and lies from the nights before.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Men Improve With The Years
I AM worn out with dreams;
A weather-worn, marble triton
Among the streams;
And all day long I look
Upon this lady's beauty
As though I had found in a book
A pictured beauty,
pleased to have filled the eyes
Or the discerning ears,
Delighted to be but wise,
For men improve with the years;
And yet, and yet,
Is this my dream, or the truth?
O would that we had met
When I had my burning youth!
But I grow old among dreams,
A weather-worn, marble triton
Among the streams.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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In the steps of Rumi 86: The Mirror
This mirror.
She has stood in front of it for many minutes;
this; that;
finally asked the mirror silently
its opinion.
The mirror agreed with the perfection
that she saw in herself now, in front of it..
Now she leaves the room.
The mirror has nothing to reflect.
While it’s reflecting nothing,
steal up to it from the side,
admire it. Maybe praise it
by polishing it. Wonder, how it is
that it has an in front of it,
yet no behind it.
Wonder how it is
that it never lies,
always tells the truth,
yet agrees with all we see in it..
Wonder too, how it brings
all who stand in front of it, to silence..
bestows this rare blessing upon all,
which is beyond the ability of men,
of books..
Somewhere where ideas emerge
from nowhere into somewhere,
then roam anywhere and everywhere,
mind and mirror were given a secret which they share.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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