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is it me
or her
looking in this mirror
Jme Love Apr 28
Not bent
Not bruised
Together one minute
Shattered the next
Like a mirror
Showing a perfect reflection
It cracks
It breaks
Distortion is all i see
Or maybe its just the real me
Not bended
Not bruised
But broken.
That broken image is me
My reality
An unbroken mirror
Is an illusion of unreal reflection
Holding no truth
Showing not who i am
But what the mirror portrays ne to be
Jana Q Apr 3
The toothbrush starts, “Enameled crooked crescents fence
a cavern filled by slimy growths and walls that tense.”

The towel ruffles, “Four protrusions rife with joints;
the fifth a rounded stump with sev’ral gentle points.”

“Agreed. The knobs and knuckles wear a supple coat;”
the loofah huffs, “it’s gritty, slick, and prone to bloat.”

The eyebrow brush retorts, “It’s two retracting domes
that cause a row of strands to flutter when one roams.”

“While ‘domes’ is right, I venture ‘jiggle’ as more apt -
along with perky, tapered tips.” the brassiere flapped.

The ****** giggle, “‘Bouncy’ could suffice as well,
but don’t forget the dampened folds and prickly swell.”

“Absurd!” exclaims the hairbrush, “More like brittle twine;
Entangled, oily knots that never quite align.”

“Not twine, but thistles bushing out in sweeping arcs,”
the razor sighs, “from paper that too clearly marks.”

A glassy voice laments, “Not one of them’s correct -
how easy this would be, if you could all reflect.”
Humor is so not my forte, but this was for the Day 3 prompt in SingPoWriMo, so I gave it a shot. It's about bathroom objects trying to describe their user. Critique is welcome!

Are the indirect descriptions easy/hard to understand?
Does the ‘twist’ at the ending work? Or just fall flat?
How long did it take you to realize what the poem is trying to do?
Carlo C Gomez Mar 21
One night
I was a werewolf,
but that got out of hand.
One night
you were a peach,
but I preferred fresh
over canned.

The blood scent was strong
and on your collar,
or was it spaghetti sauce?
We meandered in
the lost city of angels,
but those women
in the maternity ward
were better shape-shifters.

Couldn't see if the moon
was full against
the polluted skyline,
(but I bet it wasn't).

Then somewhere
down the tracks,
the howler (that's you),
half a dream away
on some deserted block,
and flat on your back
like a pancake,
with the nightmares
stacking up,
and dripping
with strawberry syrup.

Or was it blood?
(I bet it wasn't).
I left to defend our home,
I left to defend what was right,
But when I came back,
I was broken
                         and you knew.

You saw the fires of passion,
The light of my desires,
The warmth of my smile.
Yet when I came back they were gone.

You knew that what I'd seen,
What I had done
In those rolling hills of sand and rock
Broke me, and yet you did nothing.

I gave my heart and soul to you,
You gave me a child with it.
But now I don't know.
Whether it was mine or not.

You were my home,
Yet when I came back
You turned around and closed the door.
Now I look through a window.

And watch as my daughter
Doesn't even recognize me.
She's afraid of me
And I don't know why.

And that.
That is what leaves me shattered.
It makes all those horrors come alive.
Everything I thought I had left behind.

I don't see myself in the mirror,
I see what I was,
I see all the people whose lives
Ended with the reflection in my eyes.

I see my brother's and my sisters,
Not by blood but by Creed,
I see the innocents that caught
Between us and those against us.

And I can see the pity in their eyes.
Now I know who really got lucky,
It wasn't me but them.
For they don't have any worries.

They left those for the ones who survived,
They cried as they left us,
I cried because I couldn't save them,
And now I cry because no one can save me.

My resolve becomes thinner each day,
I stopped myself once,
But my time is near.
I will join you soon.

For there is nothing left for me here.
No loved ones left.
No one who would chase away my demons.
No one to anchor me.

This is no longer my home.
But I'll be there soon...
I loved you more than you know.
This will be my goodbye...
                                                 One day.
Grace Jan 26
I wish I had the words to say to make it go away
Rinse it down the drain
Wash away in the rain
Float off with the clouds
I can see it now
You look in the mirror
But keep staring at the ground
The girl in the red dress
Oh God, who is she now?
Why is she not here when I need her most?
The one in the red dress
I need her ghost

Standing in the mirror
But staring at the ground
She’s still here
She is changed now

Standing in the mirror
Rip open the closet
There it is
Red so solid, so pure
Like ruby jewels
Won in a duel
by the treasure connoisseur

Red like rose

The dress
Pristine like the day she wore it

I wish I had the words to say to make it go away
Rain, wash it all away

Large dewy teardrops
Fall heavy
From the sky
Settle on the ground
I frown

You look in the mirror
But keep staring at the ground
You can see only yourself now
Why do you frown?

lift your head up
I am here
with you now

The girl in the red dress
The best of me
I must confess
Change is hard, but we are never stagnant. To freeze a moment in time, isn't that our dying wish?
GQ James Dec 2020
I use to hurt people,
Now I help people,
The pain brought me some peace,
It had me thinking about my life,
Thinking about my choices,
Looking at myself,
Questioning my motives.

Life ain't the same for me,
Don't think the same,
Don't live the same,
Don't feel the same,
God replaced my heart with a new heart,
Was once cold-hearted,
Now I have a big heart.

Facing pain in the eyes changed my vision,
Crying my eyes out left me numb,
What I felt I can't feel no more,
What I was doing I ain't doing no more,
The way I was living i ain't living no more,
Confessed my sins and repented,
God forgave me,
Right my wrongs,
I'm now singing a new song.
Anemone Nov 2020
Sometimes i forget to eat,
And find that i prefer it
Sometimes i forget to drink
And find that the headaches are worth it
Sometimes i look in the mirror
And find someone i hate to see
Sometimes i think that she is pretty,
And then i see it's just ugly me
But i am not in danger
And i am not rib and bone
So i am not an issue
And i am not quite worthy of calls on the phone
Niel Nov 2020
The self-pitying poor me’s
That restless selfish agenda
Spreader spoiled butter
                              on a fine piece of toast
The boastful explanation
                            on a beautiful landscape
It needs no explaining
And interpretations are
subjective speculations only
Nothing of a permanent fixture
As is with a and the cycle proceeds
My feeding seems undone and useless
Fits feel necessary but I don’t have the space
And never will because
Excuses are easy to come by
What’s the point anyway?
The anointing paradoxes
all lead to the same Sufferings
Opening my arms to embrace it
But nearly everytime
The struggle’s met with more of the same
The fight in a boxful of mirrors
All showing those beautiful flaws
Of which I’d rather frown at,
                      than spring a chuckle
And I am a cuckold in all this
Because I grasp the branch
                  while being pulled in a current
Instead of letting the river release me
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