396
this will be confrontational
life-size views of grimy bathrooms -
a glimpse of a toilet,
a window,
and a shower pan,
or of a bathroom sink
In the last, he plays tricks with perspective
kind and gentle
i, stand before the fictive sink;
the mirror returning my image,
i see the blank tile wall behind me,
as if i had become invisible
your expectations
at once dislocated and defeated
how can you paint
a confrontation like this?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Think Mirror Mirror Don’t You
Mirror Mirror Don’t You Think
Mirror mirror on the wall
Don’t you ever think?
When I wash in the bathroom sink
That I want to be alone but all I see
Is the mirror reflection of me
Copying my ever move
Staring at me just to prove
I’m alive at the most
Ah you’re so wrong for I’m a ghost
So for your wrong detection
I should show no reflection
So being the good ghost I am
I will let you off with a little crack
An if you do it again I will be back
With a hammer attack!
Mirror Mirror Don’t You Think
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mirror, Mirror On The Wall
Mirror mirror on the wall
You reflect the image of how far we fall
from grace as we consider the face
we believe ourselves to be.
Is that all that most of us see?
We are fooled by that looking glass.
And yet we glimpse at it as we pass
all of our imperfections we carry around.
But inside our eyes what is found
is the soul that accepts all of our flaws.
Mirror, mirror on the wall
I must always try to recall
who I am and always shall be.
It's certainly not just what I see.
For I am more than my image shows,
more than my figure, my height, my pose.
I am who I've always been,
not this body that I find I'm in.
I am the earth, the sun, the moon.
I am the morn, the night, the noon.
And so I say to my mirrored wall.
'You can't ever reflect me.
For you don't know me at all.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time~
Time waits for no one
Tick tocking itself along
Even measured seconds
Morphing into minutes
Minutes into hours
Into days, months
And, yes years;
Where did it all?
Down the drain?
Much like the water
Draining in the sink...
This sink that we call life
This sink that once held it all...
The sink, my sink, once full now empty
Down the drain
Kind of like my life;
By, Theodora Onken
November 15,2012
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Sinking Soul
sink
sink
sink
sink
my
soul
to
sleep
at
the
bottom
of
the
dream
find
your
self
know
your
self
sink
sink
sink
m y
soul
why
are
you
so
silen t?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Know, The Reflection You Don't Recognize
You know
its kind of weird
when you look
in the mirror
and cant decide
exactly who
you are really
looking at
You know
its kinda stupid
when you fall
to your knees
and pray
to a god
that you don't
even believe in
You know
its kinda rude
when someone says
that you've changed
into something
that isn't what
they want to
see anymore
and this is why
i'm standing here
in front of this
tainted mirror
thinking that
maybe there is
some truth
in their words
You know
what i mean
to say when
i try to explain
that i have
lost my image
in this reflection
that i see
You know
how it feels
to collapse to
a world that
engulfs you
into thinking that
you are not
what they wanted
You know
what its like
to feel defeated
day to day
by the little words
people say
that distort the
image in the mirror
and then i ask
do you know
how it feels
to stand and
see the reflection
of someone
that you don't
recognize in
a mirror of nothing
but yourself
poem by Audrey Marie Kay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silly; Gross: Fart Poem #2
Naked I stepped from the shower tub, bending over SLIGHTLY,
when all of a sudden came a sound to my ears, roaring, not lightly.
It was just gas (I hoped) but it burst from me like lightning from a cloud.
It was NOT one of your gentle lady's farts, but a fart very VERY loud.
And besides the loudness there was a sound that made me worry;
could it be that recently I had eaten too much curry?
I noticed the bathroom window did not shatter,
but I was quite worried that I may have left a splatter
on the dark gray tile floor behind me.
As luck would have it there was no mess,
so I put on my makeup and put on my dress.
(Nov.2012)
poem by Bri Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silly: A Fart Poem #2:
Naked I stepped from the shower tub, bending over SLIGHTLY,
when all of a sudden came a sound to my ears, roaring, not lightly.
It was just gas (I hoped) but it burst from me like lightning from a cloud.
It was NOT one of your gentle lady's farts, but a fart very VERY loud.
And besides the loudness there was a sound that made me worry;
could it be that recently I had eaten too much curry?
I noticed the bathroom window did not shatter,
but I was quite worried that I may have left a splatter
on the dark gray tile floor behind me.
As luck would have it there was no mess,
so I put on my makeup and put on my dress.
(Nov.2012)
poem by Bri Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Freedom
In a dream I'm no longer in love. I breathe deeply this sense of freedom,
and I vow never again to seal myself in, but I am reminded it is myself I love
also and that too is a kind of sealed condition. I am committed to taking
care of my body and its home accommodations, its clothes and neat
appearance that I admire in the mirror, yet I would like to know what it
would be like freed of brushing my teeth, washing my neck and face and
between my toes. I'd like to know, as I neglect to move my bowels, and
stay away from food that could sustain my health, and do not change my
underwear, and let odors rise from my crotch and armpit. I stick out my
tongue at the image in the mirror showing me my ragged beard and sunken
eyes and hollow cheeks, free of my self-love at last, and I sink onto the
bathroom floor, feeling life begin to seep out of me, I who haven't eaten
since last month. I'm dying and I'm free.
poem by David Ignatow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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His Own Image
I am alone
As cold as stone
- I’m going to leave you forever -
Sooner than you think
- Never wanted to be together -
I fetch the mirror from the sink
I say that I’m sorry, on the edge of insane
I’m not that crazy, don’t you call me that name
Just take a look in the mirror, we’re one and the same
You cannot live on without me, and I’m not to blame
You don’t want to see me get angry, I’ve not yet begun
You smash that mirror, and I’ll grab my gun
What have I done?
Where are you? Why don’t you answer me anymore?
Surely that’s not you lying upon the floor?
I don’t want to be here anymore
So I walk over her, and lock the door
One black moment, she’s gone without trace
Naught but my echo, remains in her place
I thought that I saw her, but she had my face
A cold wet scarlet mass is all I embrace
One last look out the window
One last look at my hands
One last look in the mirror
God created man
In His own image
And woman from man
poem by Tears In Rain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mirror, Mirror
(m. sembello/d. matkowsky)
Mirror, mirror
On the wall
You said you had the answers to it all
You never told me Id take a fall
Mirror, mirror
On the wall
You, you turned my life
Into a paperback novel
Words that come to life
Inside your little melodrama
Chapter one
When I was young
I came to you with my problems
Chapter two
You promised me love
And anything that I desired
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
thought you said you had the answers to it all
Never told me I was gonna take a fall
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
You have nailed my heart
Upon the wall for your pleasures
You have cast a spell
That cannot ever be broken
And now
My eyes grow tired
I watch my picture getting older
But i
Remain the same
Trapped in this mirror forever
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
thought you said you had the answers to it all
You never told me I was gonna take a fall
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
I talk to you each night
And I follow your advise
Youve been wrong
Whats the price I have to pay
For this fairy tale thing called love?
Let me go!
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
thought you said you had the answers to it all
Never told me I was gonna take a fall
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
thought you said you had the answers to it all
Never told me I was gonna take a fall
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
Let me go
Mirror, mirror
Mirror, mirror
Mirror, mirror
Mirror, mirror
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
thought you said you had the answers to it all
Never told me I was gonna take a fall
Tell me mirror, mirror on the wall
Tell me mirror
Tell me mirror
Tell me mirror
Tell me mirror
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mirror, Mirror, Bloody Fibber
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Can't you show me tall and slim?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Must I look so bloody grim?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
You're distorting my poor waist!
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
And why the heck am I defaced?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Why have I a double chin?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
And what's the stupid, goofy grin?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Pointless asking ‘Who’s the fairest? –
More bloody likely, 'Who’s the queerest? ’
Now look, I paid a big bucks for thee,
So why can’t you be nice to me?
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Who’s the fairest of them all?
Me, you say? Ah, that's better –
Mirror, mirror, bloody fibber!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Mirror mirror bloody fibber
Mirror mirror mirror ribber
Mirror mirror mirror mirror
Mirror mirror make me slimmer
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Magic Mirror
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Who’s the fairest fair of all?
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Who’s the smartest head of all?
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Who’s that girl standing tall?
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Who's to hold me when I fall?
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Why are you not answering my call?
Oh mirror...
The lines and the scars you do not hide;
My scattered thoughts you would not guide.
Me myself and I; the gap so wide.
Oh mirror; you make me look inside!
You show me a girl against the tide,
By the rules she would not abide.
Within your frame, a caged spirit am I?
By your name, what voice have I?
Oh mirror … can you hear me?
My mirror is deceiving me!
I will show you my smile... will you let me?
A star in my eyes... will you get me?
I will show you a happy face... please let me!
A shelter from myself... please get me!
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Do not show me her face;
I have killed her and left no trace.
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
She shall never stutter;
With a new voice, words she will utter.
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Her fear you shall never show;
Fearless she is to know.
Mirror... mirror on the wall,
Do not point at her scars;
It hurts... not her scars.
Oh mirror...
There is no Santa but tell her not;
Dreams are dreams but wake her not.
She will give in... tell her not to.
She will give up... tell her not to.
Cruel mirror...
Why show me a figure so broken?
Why tell me words unspoken?
My mirror...
Every time I look at you
I miss a line in her face.
Every time I come to you
A part of her I erase.
Every time I need you
I abandon her grace.
So my mirror..
Where is the little fat girl that you used to show me?
Where are the frightened eyes that used to look at me?
Is she still hiding her smile with her hand?
Is she still looking for a magic wand?
You loved her not;
You loved me a lot!
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
What have I done?
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Where has she gone?
Mirror … mirror on the wall,
Which way do I run?
Yes mirror...
How I wish I could give you my back
and never look at you again.
How I wish I could leave you on a rack
and never fall for your tricks again.
Oh mirror... Why can’t you lie?
Why don’t you tell me that I am the fairest fair of all?
Why don’t you tell me that I am the smartest head of all?
Why don’t you let me stand proud and tall?
Will you at least be there when I fall?
Oh … Mirror … mirror on the wall …
Why are you not answering my call?
poem by Marwa Rakha
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lily Licked the Toilet
Lily licked the toilet,
And then she licked the floor.
You can bet I'll never
Kiss Lily anymore!
Lily licked the toilet,
And then she licked the sink.
She's full of germs and worms,
At least that's what I think.
Lily licked the toilet,
And then she licked the tub.
It's safe to say her tongue
Could use a real good scrub!
She was the cutest pooch! (To Smooch)
Why'd she have to spoil it?
Nothing's been the same since…
Lily licked the toilet!
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is Nothing To Write
WELL, FACE THE BLANK WALL
STARE TO THIS BLANK WALL
THERE IS NOTHING TO THIS BLANK WALL
IT IS BLANK
IT IS EMPTY
IT IS A HINDRANCE TO WHAT I WANT TO SEE
IT IS AN OBSTRUCTION
TO WHAT I WANT TO BECOME
THIS WALL
THIS WALL IS MY JAIL
MY PRISON
MY BLINDNESS
THIS WALL MUST BE TORN
THIS WALL MUST BE BOMBED
THIS BLOCK
THIS WEARINESS OF THE HEART
THIS TIREDNESS OF THE SOUL
THIS MALADY OF BEING NOTHING
THIS HAVING NOTHING AT ALL
THERE IS NOTHING TO WRITE
THERE IS NOTHING
THERE IS
now i will write about something
from above
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As Old As
It’s early January
Early morning
My feet are cold on the bathroom tile
And that’s not my face
Staring at me from the mirror
An older face than the one I went to bed with
Puffy skin wrinkles I don’t remember that
One gray hair does not belong to me
I am not this old man
The song of youth still
Plays in my skull my heart my
Bones ache
Eyes blur
After long day working
Hard to keep them open and
I sometimes nod off
To the late news or Letterman just like
My dad did when I was a boy
And I would look at him and think
He’s old and I
Will never be
Am not as old
As that face staring
From the mirror on this
Cold January Morning
poem by Tom Foster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0008 A Woman's World
She was artistic as a student,
sweet-natured, imaginative, not
overly ambitious; a good catch
for him, the fellow student with
the drive, the ambition, the great
family connections.
They married young; she did
what so many girl art students
have done: gave him all her
intelligent support, bore and raised
his children; and in the few brief moments
that she was granted for herself, took out
her student paintbox, and while the kettle boiled,
sat at the kitchen table, and beyond the view of washing-up
part painted that familiar view –
a jug of garden flowers on the kitchen window-sill..
and when he left her for
another strong woman who, however,
sculpted the cutting-edge new abstract thing
she brought up his children by herself
and when they left the nest, and she, now older,
had more time to give to paint,
she returned - as so many artists do –
to that motif, for them an eternal reminder
of that moment when the exalted mind
sees, beyond the kitchen sink,
a glimpse of that great heavenly view
beyond the garden flowers, where
she could walk into that paradise
that eternally awaits
the sweet-tempered heart..
and year by year, the modest
jug of flowers on the window-sill
became herself
and she
became that heavenly view
until the jug of flowers burst into glory
and she did what only ikon painters, praying, do
and gold and silver joined the rainbow paint
to point the way to an eternity
where kitchen sink’s now holy path;
that is more now than now
and she became,
the painting is,
a jug of Eden's flowers on a kitchen window-sill
and with all heaven in its sight
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Perspective
I need perspective cos Im facing the wall
I need perspective cos Im not that tall
I need perspective heard the trumpet call
Dont trust my eyes want to know where things fall
I need perspective party time for the newly wed
I need perspective colours ran as the images bled
I need perspective like confetti on the flower bed
Dont trust my eyes priest crying hes got fire in his head
Oh gaia, if thats your name
Treat you like dirt, but I dont want to blame
Oh gaia, the wind heats the fire and blows the ash away
I need perspective sitting in a long long hall
I need perspective staring at the white white wall
I need perspective waiting for the phone to call
Dont trust my eyes theres one thing Ive got to tell you all
I need perspective to see through red red skies
I need perspective to carry merchandise
I need perspective I dont trust my eyes
Dont trust my eyes and I dont like surprise
Oh gaia, etc
I used to be industrial giant
Sitting in a garden full of chemical plant
Trying very hard to get you off my mind
Acting like any man
Taking you for everything I can
Just the same, the same as all my kind
-- so blind
I need perspective
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sink Your Sorrows
Look into a mirror
For there are your sorrows.
Align another one
And yes your Sorrows are compounded-
But it is artificial
As the pulse of your heart on your breath.
Sink your Sorrows through that mirror of the sea's surface,
Aligning in wave after wave
Of the moon's captivity,
And let the tides become your heart,
And the seabreeze your breath.
Sink your sorrows into the sea.
poem by Stan Petrovich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tearful Eyes
The mirror laughed; it gleaned my thoughts
And saw me cry my want:
Synthetic views - pathetic clues
To how I tick - and now you taunt,
You bleeding mirror, jibe another!
Just because I dream…
To be the mighty hero wise!
And perch atop the sodden hill
Of blood and pungent death,
To lead our race from sure demise.
Let's regain, collect, and rest
Before the battle slams
Our dauntless nerve. And now to rise!
Come follow me - we'll slay the foe!
See my cloak unfurl.
Through screams and wails, he fails and dies.
Look! he falls across his minions'
Path. I laugh aloud.
My warriors hold me to the skies.
Overhead the clouds recede,
Thinning out the black.
And then I fade in pallid lies.
Returning back to conscious state,
I let the mirror slate me:
Fathoming my remote disguise,
Reflecting back my hopeless lot.
Oh to smash the thing!
If I could see through tearful eyes.
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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