from whence comes the opaque statement, vague,
wont to be false but so convincing?
and why do i see them everywhere?
shop windows do it easily- bus windows almost as well.
also water, adds Narcissus, a forever pupil at the school of hard-knocks
now marveling thanks and grumbles both upon the muddiest puddle.
they flutter down from treetops,
deciduous as youth itself.
the cracks in the sidewalk show me nothing but my image for its image
and i wish the tired metaphor wasn't so crystalline
so the auctioneer brain could catch a break,
writhe and melt into the transparency of things that with time comes natural.
when i look closely, i see that human faces are mirrors
showing humanity's own best and worst
(and my own, of course, with an aftertaste of truth)
even when all i want is to ride the wave of banter and surface-scratching.
then i touch my cheeks, and realize
that even my own face is a mirror
frighteningly real,
offset by an ocular mosaic of history and human condition
(but only if you've seen it before.
if not, it appears as a lollipop-sucking "where's daddy" come-on.
such limits come with physicality.)
when does a mirror lose opacity
and become glass, modest glass, clear but still reflective?
with age? with breaking? no doubt a combination, as it is with people.
no, vanity is not a human trait.
it comes from within the mirror
startled by the holiness staring at it squarely.
a mirror could go blind. a person often does.
Simone- I love the whole flow of this poem. It is genuinely Simone: i can almost hear you saying this out loud when I read it.
ReplyDeleteThere are many lines that are very striking:
"writhe and melt into the transparency of things that with time comes natural." What a beautiful string of words.
"offset by an ocular mosaic of history and human condition"
"it comes from within the mirror
startled by the holiness staring at it squarely.
a mirror could go blind. a person often does."
I love this ending. It leaves it open enough for the reader to see in their own way.