In my mirror I see a clown,
Juggling his fate upon the hope of entertaining his captivated audience.
Performing circus tricks with a painted smile across his animated visage.

In my mirror I see a soldier,
    Dauntless and Dedicated
To dutifully serving his school.
The soldier never tires,
Never slacks,
Never rests,
Never stops - until his duties are done.

In my mirror I see an explorer,
seeking adventure and freedom from the concrete jungle, whose cement vines bind round the sinews of his heart until he trapped
Trying to break away from:
Oppression, and the Syntheticity of suburbia.

In my mirror I see a ghost.
Dead to the world, yet still cursed to wander its lonely alleys,
In search of liberation from social purgatory.

In my mirror I see a learner,
Clean-shaven and well brushed.
His face well scrubbed though the tell-tale pimple betrays him to adolescence.
The student has no substance...
What you see is what you get,
And what you get is well -
Whatever you want.

In my mirror, late at night,
When all have drifted off to sleep,
I see a boy, who finally takes off his many masks,
And reveals his true identity to the trustworthy mirror (whom he has known long enough to keep his secrets)
He is no longer:
The clown,
Or soldier,
Or explorer,
Or ghost or learner,
He is me.

In the hour of death, after this life’s whim,
When the heart beats low, and the eyes grow dim,
And pain has exhausted every limb—
  The lover of the Lord shall trust in Him.

When the will has forgotten the lifelong aim,
And the mind can only disgrace its fame,
And a man is uncertain of his own name—
  The power of the Lord shall fill this frame.

When the last sigh is heaved, and the last tear shed,
And the coffin is waiting beside the bed,
And the widow and child forsake the dead—
  The angel of the Lord shall lift this head.

For even the purest delight may pall,
And power must fail, and the pride must fall,
And the love of the dearest friends grow small—
  But the glory of the Lord is all in all.

pieces of pain
fly into the crescent moon
we walk through the falling snow
storm and broken road
are we alive or just pretending?
wisdom of the nirvana
tell the mysterious diety
yellow grass and smoked old man
strong promises people made
promise it won't be breaking
seeking the shadow of your savior
survive the long cold night
with an eclipse
torn fall between us
pale lips with a cigarette
living our future in a ***** promise
lead me, surviver
to the end of this tunnel
standing in the rain to see the lights of the buildings
galaxy and hidden planet
walk to the flower shop
rose or jasmine
red with madness
or white with sadness
painting your soul with blood

(a.l)

Resubmitting for you consideration. posted to HP, my first week here, and another that got swallowed up in the multitude of words.   But I like it a lot, it makes me smile and perhaps it will find a wider audience, a second time around.



Do Not Put a Poem Here Until You Have Bent your ear to Shakespeare's sonnets

Until you have bent your ear to Shakespeare's sonnets,
Till you have laughed with Ogden Nash,
Wept with Frost, visited Byron's ghost,
Read the songs of King Solomon,
And once you
Despair of being their equal,
Shed your winter coat of worry,
***** your courage to the sticking point,
Begin to write then with reckless courage,
Unfettered abandon, make a fool of yourself!

Scout the competition.
Weep, for you and I will never surpass
The giants who preceeded us, and yet,
**Laugh, cause they thought the same thing as well...

A shadow with darkened eyes.
She's fine. She says she is just fine.
Her lips say everything is right.
Even her eyes have learned to lie.
But the sunlight strikes the lenses,
And just once she lets me see, just once,
The hazel wound behind her veil.
She begs for me to understand,
But fights so hard to blind me.
Just for a little while I see
The quiet acceptance of a dying world,
A growing, inexpressed hatred of mankind.
A terror of inadequacy, never being enough.
A silent resignation of just how much less she is.
Resent for the blame, the debt of an unknown people,
A plea to just forget the shame of her own sullied hands.
She's dying for someone to know,
To have no more to hide,
To abandon logic and composure
And forget what is expected, which she cannot fulfill.
Who says that she is now free?
Who can claim she was ever bound?
But reason makes her stop,
And pretend the world's alive.
To hide her weakness deeper
In order to survive.
To illuse the populace to thinking she rose above.
She steps out of the sunlight.
The glimpse is gone,
Her insecurity erased.
Once again, a paradigm of confidence and self-worth.
The mask is on, the shroud let down.
No one could ever doubt her.
No one will see the child with hazel eyes.
If you asked her, she'd deny it.
Just a child with hazel eyes.
Even in confession, she finds a way to hide.

I have left the mirror.

I love too much, but not too often.
My heart gets broken, but I keep going.

I am transparent, iridescent like glass,
So when you strike with the force of a hammer you leave more than a crack.

My heart is fragile, a bird with a broken wing.
I thought you would fix it and make it continue to sing.

I stand tall and confident in all my feelings,
Something that’s scary to you who is not used to these dealings.

I feel shame for the way I am.
Feeling love and passion for you that I wish I could bury in the sand.

A treasure left for you to uncover,
Not something I should have exposed to you undiscovered.

I tend to frighten away the one my heart wants to hold,
Do you see me as crazy, uncontrolled, too bold?

I often take broken loves words and wear them as scars.
Reminders of lessons unlearned and love unforetold by the stars.

I try their words on as an outfit of choice.
If I can change who I am, maybe for once someone will appreciate my voice.

But often times it’s too late.'
My true self exposed in revelations of hate.

No matter how hard I try to mold and bend,
I can’t change who I am, I can’t please every man.

But for some reason I never stop trying.
I can never give up my mind and hearts constant fighting.

I literally drive myself insane for a chance at true love.
I let my mind run wild for an ecstasy that will never come.

Because if I am changing who I am to achieve what I was fooled to see as true,
I’m mistreating myself and I assault my love leaving it ****** and bruised.

It’s funny how the world can constantly build me high,
But it only took you to send me crashing through the sky.

And when I fell and hit the ground,
The armor I built was shattered around.

Underneath it all I could finally see,
The only thing that remained intact was the original me.

I, myself, am my greatest force of nature.
And when I try to change who I am I’m in immediate danger.

The second I wear a mask to fool someone I love,
Is the second that my love is broken, recanted, torn up.
It’s not love if I’m not myself.
It’s not true if I pretend to be someone else.

I’m done being a victim in your insecure schemes,
But I’m also done pretending I walked away perfectly clean.

Yes I am hurt, and yes I wanted our love to be,
But I won’t sacrifice myself for you I’d rather let you go free,
Because somewhere, out there, there’s someone who wants me.

All my imperfections and everything you made me see as faults,
I consider beautiful, rare, a gift to make someone’s world halt.

I’m not sorry for the way I express myself.
I’m just sorry it has to be for someone else.

I love too much, but not too often.
My heart gets broken, but I, I keep going.