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Richy
Member Elite

since 2003-05-03

Posts 3050

0 posted 2011-03-11 05:12 PM

I’m not sure why
the mirror
has to always
stare
everytime
I walk by?

It wouldn’t be
so bad
if he didn’t always give me
this look
like he knows me,
or something.

I mean
who does this guy
think he is,
a reflection
of my true being?

That’s utterly
irrepresentable!

One time
he just wouldn’t
stop
looking at me
and so I
punished him
and put him
in the corner,
against the
shower door.

I then
went about my day
and just
ignored him
with his back to me,
well,
until I had to
a booger check
before I left
the house
and so
I let him
turn back
around
and he had
some,
tears
in his
eyes.

I think he
missed me,
and I
kind of
missed him
too you know,
but
it spooked me,
and I started
to run
from him.

But before
I knew it
he was
not only
behind me
he was
in front of me
as well
and there were
hundreds
of me,
thousands even
running
in this
accordian fashion
and we
couldn’t
get away
until I
finally,
broke the
mirror
with my head
and fell down.

I spent the
night
on the flloor
that evening
covered,
with shards of
my parallel
painted,
in blood.

I mean
sure
we’ve been through
quite a lot
over the
years,
we’ve had quite
a few conversations
too
you know,
the silent kinds
the ones you have
with just your
eyes
yeah you know what
i’m talking about
right,
kind of like the one
me and you
are having
right now
as the moisture
in your eyes
is starting
to mount.

How do i know that?

Because the insides
of our
eyelids
they have mirrors too
and so when you
close your eyes
we can see
right into and
through them,
into each
others
brainy
rainstorms
and conceptions.

You knew that,
right?

I mean you may
not have actually
verbalized it
in your mind
but still,
you knew it to
be true
didn’t you?

Every single darn
time
we think of
someone,
it’s because
they
are thinking
of us…
in the same way.

Thats kind of nice
isn’t it?

I mean,
no
I can’t prove
it
but then
there’s lots
of things
we
can’t
prove
isn’t there?

And plus
I don’t really
have to
if I don’t
want to
I
just
have
to
believe it,
thats all.

And so do
you,
if you choose
to.

Thats why
I get tired
of that
damn mirror
looking at me
every time.

Because
it knows me,
too well.

It knows
me,
better then
I do.

It knows all
my faults,
I mean every single
one of them
where the shifts
in my mind
rub against
each other
causing
quakes
and tremors
that you can
see
reverberating
down the
fissures of
my face
atop my
trembling lips
beyond the
cleft,
in
my chin.

I’ve tried
hiding them,
I have.

Sometimes
I make
a goofy face
when I walk by
just to throw him
off a bit
you know,
But I just
can never
seem
to fool him,
he can be
a cunning
little
twit,
you know
what
I mean?

One time
I wore a hat,
dark glasses,
and a scarf around
my mouth
and he
still,
recognized me
and just
laughed
which wouldn’t
be
so bad
if he didn’t
have this
most
awful giggle,
heeheehee hahar hoo,
you know what
I mean?

Exactly.

And now
oh my god
I am so,
upset
with him.

You know what
he’s been doing
lately,
for the last
10
to
20
Years,
the little
brat,
he’s been
playing
tricks on me,
games
even,
like the
smelly little
rapscallion
he most
surely
can be.

Get this,
he’s been
making me,
look,
old,
oh damn,
that is just
so unfair
because I am
absolutely
not that old,
not in the least
bit,
at least
I’m not as old
as he’s
making me
out to
be
thats for
sure.

I mean yes,
sometimes
I feel
even older
then the
hills,
and twice as
dusty
for that matter,
but just
because
Moses
was in
my third period
class in
elementary school
that doesn’t
give him
the left
let alone
the right
to make me
feel
like I’m so
old
that I knew
Mr. Clean
when he
had
an afro.

I mean where
exactly
does all this
time
go?

Does it
go to
some
old timers
home
with other guys
who can
open
cans of
spam
with their teeth
because their
also,
long in the
tooth.

Sometimes
I think
I’m in
overtime,
sudden death,
and the seconds
are clicking
away
and if i dont
do
whatever
it takes
to score
some
dignity,
and self
respect,
then I’m going
to be
touching down,
into
the ground
before I
ever
even
know it.

I think thats
why
people
like to
create,
what some call
art,
because it
enables us
to see
past
the outer layer
of our
likeness
and into,
our souls.

Sometimes
its
not easy
ripping these
words
right out
of one’s
guts.

Our ink,
is
our blood
and we
can only
write so
much
before
we
bleed out,
or at
least,
need a
transfusion
from someone
with the same
blood
type.

Are your
eyes
still moist?

Is your
laughter
still
ringing
in
your ears?

Good,
thats a good
sign.

That means
your reading
my thoughts
again
and guess
what,
I’m happy
okay,
so you make
sure
those tears
come out
of the happy
eye
not
the sad one
okay.

There’s a
difference
you know.

Funny how
the eye
that I wink
with
is the one
that tears
most
easily.

Why do you
think
that is?

Maybe thats
the side
that tries
to
convince others
that
everything
is going
to be
alright
even though,
it doesn’t
always
believe it
for itself.

Thats what
I
love
about you.

The way
that,
you
are the only
image
I’ve ever wanted,
to be
looking
back
at me.

The only
one
I’ve ever
wanted,
to
reflect
upon.

In you
I see the echo
of my,
true
happiness
in your expression,
as the shadow
of my longing
overcomes,
your smile.

It is in
your eyes
where I can
dare,
to be.

It is in
your,
beauty
that for the
first time
ever
you’ve let
the light
through my
prism,
and
turned my
mirage,
into a
window.

Here’s looking
at you
sweetheart.

Okay
so I’m no
Humphrey Bogart.

I’m just
me.

steavenr
Member Elite

since 2003-11-17

Posts 4058

1 posted 2011-03-11 10:39 PM

"I mean where
exactly
does all this
time
go?"

...methinks you might be guilty of spending your time looking in the mirror for boogers.

...would Bogie ever spend that much time looking for boogers? nah, he would probably be looking for Bogiers...

Balladeer

Administrator

Member Empyrean

since 1999-06-05

Posts 25505
Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA

2 posted 2011-03-11 10:59 PM

This could be called "Reflections of a Reflection".

I have a trick mirror. Everytime I look into it, my father is looking back at me...how did he get in there, anyway??

Reminds me of a villanelle I wrote once.. /main/forumdisplay.cgi?action=displayarchive&number=2&topic=000093

I like your style of writing, Richy. It's like you sit down with an idea and let your mind take you wherever it feels like going..and it takes some strange journeys!

Write on!

Margherita
Member Seraphic

since 2003-02-08

Posts 22236
Eternity

3 posted 2011-03-12 10:15 AM

A very captivating stream of consciousness of self, dear Richy.

You always go deeper than the surface and that's fascinating.

Instead of concentrating on wrinkles, speaking of myself in the mirror, I concentrate on my eyes and I love to meet my soul's reflection there. And I smile ... it's a healing action.

Love and smiles.
Margherita

ps I also went reading Balladeer's Villanelle, excellent work too.

katahdin
Senior Member

since 2010-07-01

Posts 1196
ME. In the Shadow of the Mt.

4 posted 2011-03-12 09:11 PM

Just wonderful as always, you never disapoint. Love your style!
Kat >^..^<

To live is to love
To love is to live

latearrival
Member Ascendant

since 2003-03-21

Posts 5499
Florida

5 posted 2011-03-12 11:43 PM

What to say?Ilove the way your mind wanders all over a subject and back again. only you.latearrival

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