Scar On Your Left Arm...
the mirror is always a good metaphor
for solitude, on cold nights, the mist sticks
on the glass,
despite the coldness
in solitude
you sweat, there is heat inside you
warm body, groping hands,
the mirror faces you, blames you
and ask: where have you been
for all those years?
(sigh, emote, undress,
on uncut pubic hair, somehow you manage
an attitude of
purity)
i am here with you.
all these years.
i am. Faithful as a
rose tattoo.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
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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Broken Images, Distorted Views
Every mirror tells a tale,
My mirror is a memory I do not wish to tell
Eery reflection has a story yet to be told,
They say the mirror never lies, but that's all my mirror ever sold
Look Into the reflective piece of glass, that mirror, pool or lake,
Gaze into the lie and realise that it's fake
Oh you look so classy in the mirror, but take a look inside,
Your body spins a different song, there's things your eyes can not hide,
Now I use a different mirror, one that doesn't lie,
Mirror Mirror in the sky, look down in judgement from up high
Give me the facts, tell me the truth,
Strip away the layers of lies, right back to my youth,
The image I see in the mirror is not good enough, it just won't do,
The person starring back is perfect, but I'm just not you.
poem by Phil Whittaker
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Broken Images, Distorted Views
Every mirror tells a tale,
My mirror is a memory I do not wish to tell
Eery reflection has a story yet to be told,
They say the mirror never lies, but that's all my mirror ever sold
Look Into the reflective piece of glass, that mirror, pool or lake,
Gaze into the lie and realise that it's fake
Oh you look so classy in the mirror, but take a look inside,
Your body spins a different song, there's things your eyes can not hide,
Now I use a different mirror, one that doesn't lie,
Mirror Mirror in the sky, look down in judgement from up high
Give me the facts, tell me the truth,
Strip away the layers of lies, right back to my youth,
The image I see in the mirror is not good enough, it just won't do,
The person starring back is perfect, but I'm just not you.
poem by Ralph Acosta
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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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Mirror Mirror
Mirror mirror
You tell lies
Who put crows feet
Round my eyes?
Mirror mirror
Hanging there
Who put that grey
In my hair?
Mirror mirror
Is that me
Is that really
Me I see?
Mirror Mirror
Stop your fun
That's not me
That is my mum
Mirror mirror
Don't stare back
For it's bad luck
If you should crack
Mirror mirror
On days like these
When what I see
Doesn't please
Mirror mirror
My mood this day
Will ask you turn
The other way!
poem by Stevie Taite
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Frozen, Where it should be
In a hardly long sunrise
my heart began its quest through the soft White Mountains
My heart is near, but my body has slept there
Over night
Thawed by the heat of lust
Though my body's dripping sweat,
My love is frozen in the mountain hips
This gold inferno is not gold enough for these pure cold blades
But down below on the lands far and wide...
My body whispers in hot delight
And the white moon that sings and kills... glimmers sweetly upon a heart so weary
and mad...
...my own
designed to tolerate the chills in solitude
Prone… to hunt solitude
poem by Cynnd Rose
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Attitude (Lyrics)
Maybe I act on confused behavior.
Maybe waves crash like semi-trailer.
Maybe I’ll spend my off time without you.
It seems like we need our own space.
And all this time I wasted away;
Do not feel good unless you stay stay stay.
And all this time I chased you away,
Simply to catch back up with,
Your solitude is welcome welcome.
Your attitude is welcome welcome.
Your solitude is welcome, welcome
Your attitude is welcome.
All you see is red lights behind me,
Maybe this isn’t what you wanted baby.
And I don’t blame you falling backwards,
No one’s ever quite confused you this way.
And all this time we wasted away;
We don’t feel good unless we’re gray gray.
And all the times I chased you away,
I simply don’t feel good.
Your solitude is welcome welcome.
Your attitude is welcome welcome.
Your solitude is welcome welcome.
Your attitude is welcome.
You are welcome.
You are welcome.
You are welcome.
You are welcome.
All this time,
We heard,
Alarms,
Come to find,
We fell,
Apart.
This whole thing has crashed down,
Crashed down.
All this time,
We heard,
Alarms.
Your solitude is welcome welcome.
Your attitude is welcome welcome.
Your solitude is welcome welcome.
Your attitude is welcome.
You are welcome.
You are welcome.
You are welcome.
You are welcome....
poem by Satan's Sibling
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Reflection
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Why do I look in you, at all,
For all I see is the same old me,
And not how I so want to be.
Mirror, mirror on the stairs,
Why do you show me many years,
A face with wrinkles everywhere,
Would anybody like my share.
Mirror, mirror near my bed,
In you I look with certain dread,
For creams and potions just don't work,
Behind them still the wrinkles lurk.
Mirror, mirror in the hall,
Seeing you makes me recall,
That I am now of senior age,
Well stuck into the wrinkles stage.
Mirror, mirror by the door,
How I hate you more and more,
I'm having to look the other way,
When my reflection's on display.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Haunting reflection's
Mirror
Mirror
I am a killer
Mirror
Mirror
I have a heart that merely beats
Without sound
Mirror
Mirror
I am cold
Mirror
Mirror
I am tearless
Mirror
Mirror
I am the devil in white
poem by Noorie Ali
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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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In Solitude
A glass of red wine spent
Recalling life's events
Crowded in my skin
In Solitude
Relishing a melody of lament
Drifting through my window
Gliding in uninvited
In solitude
Last night I cried out loud
For the sake of hearing a sound
Though I did not hear me
In solitude
Gawking at my naked fear
Of living a life unseen
Yearning to belong
In solitude
I woke up in the evening
Read a book out loud
My voice wavering
In Solitude
As the heroine yearned
In an isolated crowd
To be loved
In solitude
I walked around naked
In my new home
My skin in flames
In solitude
Every molecule of air
Brushing against me
Scorched in vain
In solitude
It was raining that morn
When I came to life
My throat stinging
In solitude
I see no soul
I hear no breathing
I smell no skin
In solitude
I mourn not waking up
Next to my beloved
To warm my frozen hind
In solitude
Yet, I feel no cold
And life goes on
As I bury myself
In solitude
poem by Deva De Silva
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The Mirror in the Hall
The rich house had in the hall
An enormous mirror, very old;
Bought at least eighty years ago.
A very handsome boy, assistant at a tailor’s
(On Sundays an amateur athlete),
Was standing there with a parcel. He handed it
To someone of the house, and he took it inside
To fetch the receipt. The tailor’s assistant
Was left alone, and waited.
He went up to the mirror and began to look at himself
And put his tie straight. After five minutes
They brought him the receipt. He took it and went away.
But the old mirror which had seen, and seen,
In the many years it had been
In existence, thousands of things and faces;
The old mirror was glad now
And was proud to have received upon itself
That entire beauty for a few minutes.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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All she wants to do is be free mirror
Imprints of bloody hands stain the glass as I look at the mirror
My wounds are deep inside for everyone to see
If they even cared
A girl who cries for no reason
Who knows her anger is rising inside of her
Her soul is tainted
All she wants to do is be free mirror
This is what I see inside the other side of the mirror
As I stand there looking
The blood stains on her run from her heart to waist in the reflection
Tasting the stained blood which turned to the stained un-pure blood
Of the torment, pain, and lies
Her mouth opens up to say something
But bubbles escape only
Trapped inside the mirror as I peer inside
This is what I see on the other side of the mirror
poem by Alyssa Howell
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The Mirror is The Memory
reflect deflect just search inside,
girl why not take a look in mirror please!
deflect shield,
who are you protect from the horrors of your past,
just take a look in the mirror please!
dry up raise seeds so that how it may appear,
just take a second look, god is know to work miracles
just take a look in the mirror please.
third of the month and you know what that mean,
and no reason for the rag,
well i told you to look in the mirror.
after all this year you follow see what i see,
so how do you feel to look at the mirror after all this years,
beauty is only skin deep so what is thick techincally view as unattracitve this days,
GIRL I TOLD YOU TO LOOK IN THE MIRROR?
DO YOU DREAM AS WELL?
CAUSE I CAN TAKE YOU A WAY.....
MANY WOMAN MIGHT
SAY I HEARD IT SOME GOOD MAN LEFT,
NOW YOU CAN SAY SO I HAVE HEARD SO?
SO TELL ME WHOS THE PERSON IN MIRROR,
AND CAN YOU SAY SHE BEAUTFIUL.
poem by Louis Borgo
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Mirrowindom
Mirror Mirror Behind my wall
Who will catch me when I fall?
There will be no one to lend me a hand
I'll be Grey, Black and Blue when I land.
Mirror Mirror Can you see?
The sadness and Loneliness inside of me
Eating me away, from the inside
Is it wrong or right for me to hide?
Mirror Mirror When will it end?
When will me head begin to mend?
Why can't I ever be allowed to be me?
Then and only then will I be able to see.
Mirror Mirror Why are you there?
Blinding my sight without a care
Change into a window so i can see through you
And say to myself, Hey! I knew that I knew you.
poem by Mark Hopwood
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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
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Stone, Mirror and Mist
Stone, mirror and mist;
All enrapture me.
I can’t resist
Time’s trinity.
As I try in the mirror
To change the stone,
Mist draws nearer
Till I can’t see on my own.
Then I turn my attention
To the mirror at hand;
Stone in mind, but not mention;
Mist shifting like sand.
I battle the mirror.
There can be only one.
When image is clearer
I’ll know I have won.
Only then will mist clear.
Stone will have no say.
A bygone will be fear
And I’ll be on my way.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Mirror Mirror - Mirror Me!
Mirror Mirror on the Wall
What stories you could tell,
Of faces that have gazed in you
Some so happy - others blue
Some thinking - gosh I look like Hell!
Mirror Mirror on the Wall
Mirror Mirror oh so Tall
Does my bum look big in this?
Does my skirt and jacket clash?
Is it OK for Julies bash?
Will this ensemble be a hit or miss?
Mirror Mirror oh so Tall
Mirror Mirror - curtain call
Do I look a real Pooh Bah?
Is my wig the right way round?
Does my crinoline reach the ground?
Is my moustache correct for a Huusar?
Mirror Mirror - curtain call.
Mirror Mirror in the Hall
Oh will I be 'Belle of the Ball'?
Will my beehive survive the twist and shout?
Or will my carefully padded top dropp ou?
Oh dear - will my stillettos make me fall?
Mirror mirror in the Hall.
Mirror Mirror Oh! apall
Sitting in the dentists chair.
'Just relax and let me take a look'
(scratching, scraping with a dentists hook)
What does the Dentist really see in there
Mirror Mirror Oh! apall
Morror Mirror - you'll recall
When I was very young and free
My face was smooth my eyes were bright
Even very late at night!
But now I'm really old and ninety-three
Mirror Mirror - you'll recall.
Mirror Mirror - please don't fall
Broken glass - bad luck for seven years!
Reflect my vissage just once more
Then you can shatter on the floor
With all my fractured hopes and flowing tears.
Mirror Mirror - please don't fall.
(John Knight - September 2009)
(john Knight - September 2009)
This type of poem is called a 'Sandwich' because the first and last lines, of each verse, are the same. Also the last line of each verse is similar to the opening line of the next verse and rhymes with it. The technical rhyme pattern, in the above poem, Is A b c c b A.
poem by John Knight
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Mirror To Mirror
Written by gerry beckley, 1994
Found on hourglass.
I havent seen forever
Dont even know her name
I call on dreams and other schemes
To try and win that game
Now that its over, darling
Look into my eyes
Seein your own reflection
Much to your surprise
Were seein mirror to mirror
Face to face
We look but we cannot see
Mirror to mirror
Seems to trace
What happened to you and me
And though we tried in earnest
The distant silence yells
We call on wings and other things
To try and break that spell
Now that its over, darling
Truth in the common cause
We stare at our own indifference
By seeing the others flaws
Were seein mirror to mirror
Face to face
We look but we cannot see
Mirror to mirror
Seems to trace
What happened to you and me
Oh, mirror to mirror, mirror to mirror
Mirror to mirror, whats come over me
As we look inside, theres nowhere to turn
Theres nowhere to hide
Now that its over, darling
Look into my eyes
Seein your own reflection
Much to your surprise
Were seein mirror to mirror
Face to face
We look but we cannot see
Mirror to mirror
Seems to trace
What happened to you and me
Oh, mirror to mirror, mirror to mirror
Mirror to mirror, whats come over me
Mirror to mirror, mirror to mirror
Mirror to mirror, whats come over me
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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