Mirror

June 26, 2020June 26, 2020

The Amber Mirror

The paradoxical algorithms of life
speak of birth and death colored
with a beginning and an end
both caught within the shadows
of rules, mandates and laws

tasting and speaking of freedoms
both ‘masked’ in lies and deceit

a truth hidden behind closed doors
spoken in silent unheard whispers
seen through the eyes of the faceless

while the legends of time and history
move between the spaces of passions
where wisdom is a time honored truth
where love of others and of self
is the resin that frees them

an amber mirror that reveals life

The Photo Below Created As Art

February 9, 2019February 9, 2019

Brilliant Crystals on Wrought Iron

The stark contrast of white
made of brilliant crystals
against the shiny black
of the wrought iron fence

brings to mind the striking
dichotomy of life’s journey

parallel to my very own
stretching out farther behind
with a shorter distance
forward

being finally alone within
my own skin, my own otherness

a life of contrasting colors
of realizing differences
of trying to fit into
a smaller space
of acceptance

yet in doing so, giving away
pieces of my ‘self’
until I am left wondering
what is left

as I now turn the page
of another chapter
to come facing the mirror
reflecting my own image

do I realize I am now alone
to accept my otherness
my differences

understanding the helix
of the genetics snake
is both the same path taken
of flesh and blood

but also parallel beside
others in my diverseness

is that which makes me unique
both repelling me from
yet pulling me to others

like that of the white crystals
of stark white snow snaking
around bushes, curving ’round
branches and clinging lightly
to the black wrought iron fence

there is a twisting and turning
only barely discernible inside
the double helix of
a strand of genetic DNA

telling me to be accepting
of my otherness even in needing
to be with others

Image Taken From Public Domain Pictures & Created As Art

Stark Contrasts

June 21, 2018

Sweet Layers of Imagination

Imagination

There are moments I believe
that de’ja’ vu really does exist
when I walk into another world,
an alternate landscape

to escape my obsessed compulsion
crafting a skewed vision filled
with black and white reality

ethereal as stepping on solid clouds
drifting over a technicolor scene
where a yellow brick road
leads to perspicacity
strangely curious

or yet upon closing my eyes
I sleep so deep imagination unfolds
in sweetest layers I inhale
swallowing each one
anxious for
the next

beautiful as pastillage
settling on my tongue
like honey

I see a girl who speaks to trees,
smiling at flowers who
innately knows
her secrets

and where the eyes of animals
reflect her soul
back to her in
infinite profusions
of color

painting details like the spices
completing ingredients
in foods from everywhere
smelling of a full life
in every inhaled
breath

where upon touching a mirror
she steps through liquid mercury
pure as water chaste
before rigidity touches
her image
with age

yet these images might be to me
only lucid as a million stars
in the night sky where
Zeus holds court

only quick
in twilight hours
before I wake

July 30, 2017

A Capricious Magician

Unpredictable
in ‘nature’ is she
dropping hints
with sun rays
peaking out
between
clouds

apparitions held
as fading shadows
become
cloudy
mirrors

and the next moment
a downpour of
rain filling gutters
a deluge
down
drain
spouts

a disappearing act
slight of hand
the earth drying
cracks in
hardened
clay

a capricious magician
prone to laughter
a comic relief
dancing
across a stage
of her own
making

This is in response to Jamie Dede’s Wednesday Prompt. Read more at https://jamiededes.com/2017/07/25/orange-fires-at-daybreak-a-poem-and-your-wednesday-writing-prompt. The photo below was taken from the Morgue File and digitally altered by myself.

Capricious

January 25, 2017September 2, 2017

Dropping A Red Rose

Staring into the mirror seeking life
watching each dark night
as I pooled soaking
the sheets the bed clothes
I wore

I clung to hope as I saw each one
waiting, watching long hours
as a cataclysmic event
unfolded

standing on the precipice
of scorched earth
stepping around grave stones
stepping over graves
resting places

the essence of them I held within
the essence of me
reaching to touch shadows
dropping a red rose
atop a casket

my body reduced to remnants dry
as a tree now lifeless
brittle as earth in drought
cracked and devoid of water

but my soul though languishing
refused to perish
as hope will not
when secured in
determination

Image Taken From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself

dropping-red-rose

November 20, 2016September 2, 2017

You wait beneath
drought parched land
he stiffens
as bent curved tree
detail memory fades
once sharp pinpoint light
emanated by moonbeams
he sees my feet as yours
your face I see in a mirror
the years bring you close
as you wait

This was posted for Jamie Dede’s Wed Prompt at https://jamiededes.com/2016/11/16/for-mrs-whitman-a-poem. I am not sure if my piece hits the mark of her prompt as she talks about the writing of a fond memory and juxtaposition. For me that happened recently when I visited dad and even with dementia he saw the likeness between my feet and mom’s (now passed away) and was touched. Even with my aging I find mother in my features, especially my eyes and expressions, and know that youth is always there. If you would like to participate in her Wed prompt and look for them weekly please pay her a visit and enter your poem in Linky.

Image Taken From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself

wait-for-him

April 27, 2014

To Welcome Morn

when the thick grey mist
rises up from
the still dark blue water
as mirrored glass
to greet the dawn
there is no doubt

once the sun’s rays
burn away
the damp & dark
of passing night
bird chorus
will welcome morn

Image From Morgue File

May 15, 2013May 15, 2013

Change Comes Quickly

Google Image

change comes quickly
sometimes
just as we knew it would
not unlike an unwanted
intruder…silently
entering
with stealth
in darkness

waiting, just waiting…
remember how
we would wait
a game of hide ‘n seek
with only the
street lamps lit
casting shadows and
you hoped it
wasn’t yours
and then

you were found out
even though
you thought you were
hidden
and we did think so
didn’t we
safe from the
trappings
of life

in our home with a
door closed to who…
to the intruders,
of course…and
to change
but with the
light of day
it all is
clear

like a mirrored
reflection
in cut crystal glasses
but not so…
really
as the crystal is
but jagged pieces
and sharp edges
juxtaposed

fitting but not so
as a piece
here and there
slips
out of view
out of our view and
what do we do
but wait and wait
or turn about
like a kaleidoscope
to view something
else…new

for the domino pieces
do begin their fall
from him to her and
on and on as
change keeps coming
putting in motion
a game of
cause and effect
an unknowing

without warning but life
has no sounding
bells
no alarms ringing
to alert us that
it is here for
change comes
quickly

http://dversepoets.com/category/openlinknight/

September 9, 2012October 9, 2012

The Fulcrum

i was unaware that i was
caught in a fulcrum of
endless time whizzing
like the white noise of
traffic moving on the
street below leveled

at me never really able
to penetrate beneath
my walled in psyche
keeping me safe so
that age cannot find
me except within the

particles of sand forming
a mirror where upon
i momentarily glance to
see time has captured
me there quite in the
center of endless storms

Hope you will bear with me as I take on something new here. I have found some software online called Real Paint World that takes doing art images online a bit further than Micro Soft Paint. I got really frustrated after lots of trial and errors and then could not, for the life of me, figure out how to save it where I could pull it into the post but finally did. I have been so taken with a site by Rick Daddario with images and Haikus at http://rickdaddario.com/blog.htm (I can never come close) that I decided to go out and get some software I could try on my own. Thanks for your patience.