Mirror Poems
Presents From My Aunts In Pakistan
by Moniza Alvi
They sent me a salwar kameez
&nb sp; peacock-blue,
& nbsp; and another
glistening like an orange split open,
embossed slippers, gold and black
&nbs p; points curling.
Candy-striped glass bangles
&n bsp; snapped, drew blood.
Like at school, fashions changed
&n bsp; in Pakistan -
......
Sea Breeze
by Stéphane Mallarmé
The flesh is sad, Alas! and I have read all the books.
Let’s go! Far off. Let’s go! I sense
that the birds, intoxicated, fly
deep into unknown spume and sky!
Nothing – not even old gardens mirrored by eyes –
can restrain this heart that drenches itself in the sea,
O nights, or the abandoned light of my lamp,
on the void of paper, that whiteness defends,
no, not even the young woman feeding her child.
I will go! Steamer, straining at your ropes
......
Beauty Standards
by Kelechi Kalu
Every look you take in the mirror
Distorts your vision, it gets less clearer
Society's foolishness knows no bounds
Now you judge your self worth in pounds
Obsessed with attaining the lightness of a feather
Enduring hunger and not caring whether
or not your body could be drastically affected
You're mimicking skeletal mannequins who are well respected
Only heaven knows what kind of chemicals and rituals
helped them ascend to their pedestals and pinnacles
......
The Old Pond
by Matsuo Basho
Following are several translations
of the 'Old Pond' poem, which may be
the most famous of all haiku:
Furuike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto
- Basho
......
Mirror
by Taylor CoolBeans
I look into my mirror, the same mirror I look in every day
I am so scared to meet my own eyes, but I can't help to do so
The dread I feel as I stare into my own eyes
My cold blank dead eyes
I feel as though, at that moment, I can't run from myself
I finally have to face who I am
I feel as if I'm forced to look deep into who I am
In my forced self-recollection, I question who I even am
......
Mirror
by Taylor CoolBeans
I look into my mirror, the same mirror I look in every day
I am so scared to meet my own eyes, but I can't help to do so
The dread I feel as I stare into my own eyes
My cold blank dead eyes
I feel as though, at that moment, I can't run from myself
I finally have to face who I am
I feel as if I'm forced to look deep into who I am
In my forced self-recollection, I question who I even am
......
apathy
by Grace McDonough
I am kind of this perpetually tired
Sack of flour
I’ve been staring at the walls for hours
All I am full of is nothing
And it sounds pretty dramatic
But when i’m fulfilled, there’s no room for sadness
There’s no madness
I feel fine (if fine is the absence of anything)
I feel tired
All the time
......
In Fragrant Mists
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
In the hall of clocks and mirrors,
Winds of time bring fragrant whispers,
Of midnights of magic moonlight,
And reflections of past delights!
Of golden days when lost in blooms,
And dancing joy in summer rooms!
A blur of green in woodland scene,
And the purple twilights velveteen.
......
Spring Night
by Sara Teasdale
The park is filled with night and fog,
The veils are drawn about the world,
The drowsy lights along the paths
Are dim and pearled.
Gold and gleaming the empty streets,
gold and gleaming the misty lake,
The mirrored lights like sunken swords,
Glimmer and shake.
......
Summer Night, Riverside
by Sara Teasdale
In the wild soft summer darkness
How many and many a night we two together
Sat in the park and watched the Hudson
Wearing her lights like golden spangles
Glinting on black satin.
The rail along the curving pathway
Was low in a happy place to let us cross,
And down the hill a tree that dripped with bloom
Sheltered us,
While your kisses and the flowers,
......
