Shaving Glass
A look at the shaving mirror
And I remember
The face of the one that went before me
The hand that held the razor
Warm breath that fogged the glass
Same spot where he stood
Seems a moment yet gone for good!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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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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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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Razor
===========================
Smashing Pumpkins - Razor
===========================
Razor in my hand
Nine little lines in someone's hand
Shot down from this group
I wish for something and I know it isn't home
Razor in my hand
Six little lines in someone's hand
Lay down, rest your head
You reach for something, and you feel something sting
Razor, razor, razor, razor
Want it
Now you rip apart who you are
Deliver
Yeah, you deliver who you are
Oh, razor
My little razor
Oh, razor
I wanna go
I wanna go
I'm like a junkie, I want it all
I wanna go
Want it
Now you rip apart who you are
Deliver
Yeah, you deliver who you are
Oh, razor
My little razor
My little razor
I wanna go
I wanna go
I'm like a junkie, I want it all
I wanna go
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To My Babies....Happy Mothers Day Every Day
To My Babies…….Happy Mothers Day Every Day
Do you remember the very first day you spent inside your very first cradle in my womb?
Do you remember the calm warm liquid love I enveloped you in?
Do you remember my calming soothing voice with you in the darkness?
Do you remember the beat of my loving heart?
Do you remember how I nourished you with my own blood?
Do you remember kicking me from within?
Do you remember bringing a smile to my tired yet blossoming face?
Do you remember me sitting up late in the night in discomfort only for your comfort?
Do you remember my pain and cries upon feeling torn apart?
Do you remember when the moment turned into minutes turned into hours?
Do you remember holding on so tight not wanting to leave the comfort and safety of my womb
Do you remember me pushing you out taking my own self to the brink of death?
Do you remember me giving you a glimpse of your new life?
Do you remember the look in my eyes?
Do you remember the first time I held you, your very first caress?
Do you remember the first kiss I planted upon your face?
Do you remember that first tear that rolled down my cheek
Do you remember your first tear I kissed away with my healing lips?
Do you remember the look of pride and joy?
Do you remember my very first silent prayer?
Do you remember being severed from my tired form?
Do you remember me holding you to my breast to give you only my very best?
Well I remember each and every moment and will take it with me upon my last breath
For as long and beyond…. hold on to that invisible cord
I love you all unconditionally and will always be right here in your hearts
Happy Mothers Day to you all
Love Always
Mummy
poem by Lilac Wine
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I'm Coming To Get You
Take a good look at me
Do you like what you see
Am I mystery
Or do you remember me
I've come to win the game
I've come to make my claim
You'll take me home again
You're gonna remember me
You held me in your arms
You kept me safe and warm
You wrapped me up in charm
Then we said goodbye
Now I'm coming to get you
And you'd better believe me when I Say that
I'm not gonna let you go
'Cos the moment that we met I knew that that was that boy
From my point of view
I still imagine you
So fresh, so totally cool
I've got a good memory me
I can't forget that smile
You and your sense of style
I've traveled miles and miles
So you're gonna remember me
Oh you could say we failed
A hiccup in our tale
But that ship never sailed
When we said goodbye
So I'm coming to get you
And you'd better believe me when I Say that
I'm not gonna let you go
'Cos the moment that we met I knew that that was that boy
So hold me in your arms
and keep me safe and warm
Just wrap me up in charm
Never say goodbye
'Cos I'm coming to get you
And you'd better believe me when I Say that
I'm not gonna let you go
'Cos the moment that we met I knew that that was that boy
song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Things I Love
I love the sun
I love lying in the sun, relaxing on a lounge
Working hard for a cold glass of sweet tea
Playing in the water, fishing in the late afternoon
I love the sun very much
But not as much as I love you
I love a glass of wine
I love a glass of red wine beside the company of a lady
Talking over the day, bathing in the winelight
Listening to soft music by a fire together
I love a glass of wine very much
But not as much as I love you
I love the words
I love forming the words into meaningful tapestries
Searching for just the right phrase, the perfect sound
Projecting what’s on my heart to you, good reader
I love the words very much
But not as much as I love you
I love the rain
I love sitting by the window, my breath fogged on the cool glass
Contemplating a quiet moment, my thoughts far away
Watering the earth to make good things grow
I love the rain very much
But not as much as I love you
I love many things
I love so many things about this life I can’t list them all
Parties, meals, a job well done, victory, cleansing tears and dogs
Small town softball games and walking along a forest trail
I love many things very much
And yet, my dear, I love you much more
poem by David Terry
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Breath Upon The Looking Glass
My breath expressed
Upon the looking glass
A living veil
Composed of gas
Eyes kept without
Breath held within
A visual shout
A ghastly grin
That fades away
As does the breath
As sure and certain
As life and death
The looking glass
Now free of mist
Lays bare my soul
And doing so insists
That I observe
The exposed nerve
That in said glass
Persists
I hastily breath anew
On said looking glass
To renew said veil
of living gas
Then Hie away
Before it fades
And draws me fast (and forever)
Into the looking glass
poem by David Whalen
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Looking Glass Reflections
When I was a child
the glass on the wall
was a mirror of me.
I put on faces and hats
and spent hours imagining
When I was thirteen
I hated the mirror,
for it showed me
the spots on my face
I spent hours attempting to cover.
When I was twenty
I would look in the mirror
and create each new face
that appeared on the stage
for the evening performance.
When I was a mother
I sat with my daughter
and showed her
the 'girl in the mirror'
and told them both stories.
When my children were grown
I met an old lover, who said
I was sexy and stood me
naked in front of the mirror
and forced me to look.
Now that I'm sixty, the image
I see depends on the mirror.
I like the one in the bedroom
because it faces the window
and the light is flattering -
especially if I take off my glasses.
poem by Alison Cassidy
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In Another Land
In another land where the breeze and the
Trees and flowers were blue
I stood and held your hand.
And the grass grew high and the feathers floated by
I stood and held your hand.
And nobody else's hand will ever do
Nobody else will do
Then I awoke
Was this some kind of joke
Much to my surprise
I opened my eyes.
We walked across the sand and the sea and
The sky and the castles were blue.
I stood and held your hand.
And the spray flew high and the feathers floated by
I stood and held your hand.
And nobody else's hand will ever do
Nobody else will do
Then I awoke
Was this some kind of joke
Much to my surprise
When I opened my eyes.
We heard the trumpets blow and the sky
Turned red when I accidently said
That I didn't know how I came to be here
Not fast asleep in bed.
I stood and held your hand.
And nobody else's hand will ever do
Nobody else's hand
Then I awoke
Was this some kind of joke
I opened my eyes.
Much to my surprise.
song performed by by Rolling Stones from Their Satanic Majesties Request
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A hand mirror
lightning
thunder
the storm
the calm
the chill
a hand mirror
my eyes
my nose
mouth
hair
face
a hand mirror
anguish
fear
pain
joy
happi ness
a hand mirror
spring
summer
autumn
winter
a hand mirror
childhood
teenager years
adulthood
old age
a hand mirror
poetry runs
outside
written by the gods
in multi-dimensions
a hand mirror
poetry runs inside
that all the outside
portrays so correctly
- i cry
a hand mirror
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Remember Me
Remember me
Maybe tonight, just for this moment
Well feel the same things, we did before
Just close your eyes, and let me show you
Youll be my reason, and Ill be yours
Remeber me
Well, Im the boy that stood in line for
Have you got just a little time for me tonight
Ill make you feel alright
Hey do you remember me
Remember when
The world was ours for just one evening
Felt so warm, its hard believing
That it would end
And here we are again
Hey do you remember me
Remember how
Music filled the empty spaces
And took us off to distant places
Wed never seen
Do you remember now
I still got my song and I can sing it
My guitar plays beneath my fingers
Warm, baby warm, baby warm
Say, do you remember me
Well, Im the boy you gave your heart to
Dont you think weve been apart too long this time
But youve been on my mind
Say, do you remember me
Remember how
Music filled the empty spaces
And took us off to distant places
Wed never seen
Do you remember now
I still got my song and I can sing it
My guitar plays beneath my fingers
Warm, baby warm, baby warm
Say, do you remember me
- remember me
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A moment missed
Remember when I asked you out?
And how you shed a tear.
Remember how I told you.
That I'd stay for all those years.
Remember our first kiss?
Under a moonlit sky.
Remember the fireworks.
That shone in your eyes.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember all the promises?
That we never seemed to keep.
Remember all the times.
I held you when you'd weep.
Remember all the walks we took?
On the beach at midnight.
Remember when we were perfect?
And everything felt right.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember that rose I sent you?
For our schools winter dance.
Remember when we broke up?
And I begged for a second chance.
Remember when you got pregant.
And I stayed right by your side.
Remember how I bought that ring?
And took your hand in mine.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember when I became a dad?
And held my baby girl.
Remember how we fought for names.
And ended up with Pearl.
Remember her first birthday?
And that pretty teddy bear.
Remember her old blankie?
That she carried everywhere.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember how you left me?
With not a word goodbye.
Remember how you took her?
And left me there to die.
Remember all those years?
That you spent far away.
Remember our dying love?
That was ment to always stay.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember the years after?
When you became a whore.
Remember how you took off?
And walked through that same door.
Remember when you got drunk?
And they took our Pearl away.
Remember how I took the fall.
Even though you were too blame.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember how you changed?
And forgot what use to be.
Remember how you hit her?
When our girl had just turned three.
Remember all those moments?
That we thought would last forever.
Remember all our memories?
That we had shared together.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember when you lost your future?
And chose to slice your wrists.
Remember the note you sent me?
Saying please remember this.
Today it's three years later.
And our baby's turning five.
Today she has no mommy.
Because you chose to die.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
poem by Silence Dogood
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Fantasies Of A Mirror Part-1
The mirror gasped as she stood in front of it with her tresses flowing longingly
The mirror looked in her dark brown eyes
The mirror admired her almost perfect lips
The mirror gazed longingly at her perfect hips
The mirror took her in its arms
The mirror embraced her reflection in itself
The mirror ran its fingers through her soft hair
The mirror kissed her lips a thousand times
The mirror bit her slender neck
The mirror whispered a thousand nothings in her ears
The mirror …..The mirror ……The mirror
The mirror left its love bites all over her soft warm body
poem by Leonard Rebello
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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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Hall of Mirrors
Starring down the long impenetrable hallway
Mirror after mirror after mirror
They always bring you back to the same spot
One turn and you walk straight into glass
Another turn and you fall on your ass
You only come face to face with yourself
There’s no escape
From the dark egotistic mind
That brought you here
To the hall of mirrors
Nobody is around to save you
It is only you
It’ll only ever be you
Trapped, lost and suffering
In a field of your repetitive reflection
It's that egotistic mind
That brought you here
To the hall of mirrors
poem by Elyse Elwood
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The Touch Of Your Hand
On the day that you were born
I touched your hand so chubby and warm.
I touched your hand when you were one
and helped you walk my beautiful son.
I held your hand when you were two.
We ran, your favorite thing to do.
I held your hand when you were three
as you climbed on my lap and smiled at me.
I touched your hand when you were four
as the ocean touched our toes at the shore.
I touched your hand when you were five
walking you to school but when we'd arrive
I felt the tug of your hand from mine
and I knew that we had crossed a line.
I looked at you and released your hand
and said'it's okay I understand.'
As I walked back home I cried some tears
thinking of all our hand holding years.
Holding your hand became sporadic now,
when you were feverish or I felt your brow.
I held your hand a few times as a teen
but always alone so it wouldn't be seen.
I held your hand after you said, 'I do.'
We danced together just me and you.
After some years went by my son
you held the hand of your little one.
And so the times of your life turn around
and now that my hand is old I've found
you take my hand and help me walk
and as you do we intimately talk.
And it takes me back to that bright early morn
when I held your hand so chubby and warm.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Mirror
The mirror held your fair, my Fair,
A fickle moment's space.
You looked into mine eyes, and there
For ever fixed your face.
Keep rather to your looking-glass
Than my more constant eyes:
It told the truth - Alas! my lass,
My faithful memory lies.
poem by Hilaire Belloc
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Harry's Circumcision
Looking in the mirror Harry didn't like what he saw
The cheeks of his mother the eyes of his father
As each day crashed around him the future stood revealed
He was turning into his parents
The final disappointment
Stepping out of the shower Harry stared at himself
His hairline receding the slight overbite
He picked up the razor to begin his shaving
and thought oh I wish I was different
I wish I was stronger I wish I was thinner
I wish I didn't have this nose
These ears that stick out remind me of my father
and I don't want to be reminded at all
The final disappointment
Harry looked into the mirror thinking of Vincent Van Gogh
and with a quick swipe lopped off his nose
And happy with that he made a slice where his chin was
He's always wanted a dimple
The end of all illusion
Then peering down straight between his legs
Harry thought of the range of possibilities
A new face a new life no memories of the past
and slit his throat from ear to ear
Harry woke up with a cough the stitches made his wince
A doctor smiled at him from somewhere across the room
Son we saved your life but you'll never look the same
And when he heard that, Harry had to laugh
Although it hurt Harry had to laugh
The final disappointment
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Men don't care
Men see…when they look in the mirror
Grey hair, wrinkly face
replete with wisdom
So mature…so sage
Women see…when looking in the mirror
A pretty face
But with an ego that
Slowly diminishes with age
Women see…when they look in the mirror
Rearranging…
looks a-changing
Time wooshing past
Men see…when they look in the mirror
That same goofy face looking back from the glass
Doesn’t land a blow on a cast iron ego, because
Men just don’t give… a rat’s ass
poem by David Whalen
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Memorable
I remember your eyes and your smile,
I remember the beauty of your face,
I remember where I thought about taking you,
I remember imagining that special place,
I remember how you would laugh
And bring your hand up to your lips,
I remember the gentle touch of your skin
When you touched me with your fingertips,
I remember how you held me close
When I asked you if I may have a dance,
I remember when we talked about
How we were brought together by chance
I remember when I would look up at you,
I remember how you would smile at me,
I remember how nervous I would get
Whenever it was you that I'd see,
I remember how our eyes would lock
And neither of our heads could turn away,
No, I can forget what I remember,
I'll remember it all until my dying day.
poem by Alex F. Chavez
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