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Poetry competition CLOSED 12th December 2017 7:05pm
WINNER
Anonymous
Anonymous
POETIC MIRROR SELFIE
Poetry Contest Description
Write a self-portrait of yourself in the mirror
We are now familiar with mirror selfies done on smartphone. The challenge here is to offer a selfie in words, describing how you look/feel, it could be yourself now or at some time in the past. Rules:
-No more than two per writer
-Poems new or previously published welcome
The selfie could be clothed, or it could descend towards the 'naked truth', as in this example of mine, which I am not offering as an entry:
LOOK IN THE MIRROR (POETIC SELFIE)
by Solomon Song
I look into the mirror,
gaze on my naked figure,
thinking, "I don't look too bad" -
though my stomach is a tad
paunchier than in the past
When I cycled, swam, walked fast.
My man breasts, a little round,
may both add some needless pound,
and the so-called "manly hair"
concentrates a bit "down there",
as well as upon the wrist
(on which I wear Accurist).
But my legs, lean with muscle,
bespeak feet on move and hustle,
and firmest are both my feet
as the floor on which soles seat.
At the age of fifty-eight
I've still reasons to feel great:
My smile shows teeth never filled,
I'm not Michelin man build,
and the manhood still rises,
so no potency crises!
(And something good to offer
to a future wife, bless her!)
-No more than two per writer
-Poems new or previously published welcome
The selfie could be clothed, or it could descend towards the 'naked truth', as in this example of mine, which I am not offering as an entry:
LOOK IN THE MIRROR (POETIC SELFIE)
by Solomon Song
I look into the mirror,
gaze on my naked figure,
thinking, "I don't look too bad" -
though my stomach is a tad
paunchier than in the past
When I cycled, swam, walked fast.
My man breasts, a little round,
may both add some needless pound,
and the so-called "manly hair"
concentrates a bit "down there",
as well as upon the wrist
(on which I wear Accurist).
But my legs, lean with muscle,
bespeak feet on move and hustle,
and firmest are both my feet
as the floor on which soles seat.
At the age of fifty-eight
I've still reasons to feel great:
My smile shows teeth never filled,
I'm not Michelin man build,
and the manhood still rises,
so no potency crises!
(And something good to offer
to a future wife, bless her!)
Dark Poet
With Heart so Rotten...
Laughing at Fates of names Forgotten...
As he writes his stories so Gray and Grim...
Under his twisted pseudonym...
Innocent characters Labeled by Nicknames...
Red Tears in eyes, Smile wilting in lost frames...
Put inside their Books of Pain...
To live! To die! all that in vain!
Giving them life full of Grief!
With no Hope With no Relief!
Dying before he is Done...
Before he gets to the Pun...
Words of Hate in his lips teaming...
Anger an Frustration screaming!
"Stop killing yourself you selfish muckers!
I'm not done toying with you!
Weak and weeping! all you suckers!
.... never getting through ...."
But before he decides to condem...
This wicked care he holds for them...
As he sits in chair all dressed in Black...
Through love Still! He does mercy lack!
With his finger on his Screen...
Where their suffering is to be seen...
Singing "eny meany many moe!
Which will Stay? and which will Go?"
Just to make some room for new...
Erases old from Your view!
Note: to explain, for most of the time i was not publishing at all/publishing at a site where you had limited number of workd you could have on your profile at one time, so erasing my works & entire miserable lives of my characters was a regular basis.... &.... i felt a bit bad for them... so i wrote this poem about myself....
With Heart so Rotten...
Laughing at Fates of names Forgotten...
As he writes his stories so Gray and Grim...
Under his twisted pseudonym...
Innocent characters Labeled by Nicknames...
Red Tears in eyes, Smile wilting in lost frames...
Put inside their Books of Pain...
To live! To die! all that in vain!
Giving them life full of Grief!
With no Hope With no Relief!
Dying before he is Done...
Before he gets to the Pun...
Words of Hate in his lips teaming...
Anger an Frustration screaming!
"Stop killing yourself you selfish muckers!
I'm not done toying with you!
Weak and weeping! all you suckers!
.... never getting through ...."
But before he decides to condem...
This wicked care he holds for them...
As he sits in chair all dressed in Black...
Through love Still! He does mercy lack!
With his finger on his Screen...
Where their suffering is to be seen...
Singing "eny meany many moe!
Which will Stay? and which will Go?"
Just to make some room for new...
Erases old from Your view!
Note: to explain, for most of the time i was not publishing at all/publishing at a site where you had limited number of workd you could have on your profile at one time, so erasing my works & entire miserable lives of my characters was a regular basis.... &.... i felt a bit bad for them... so i wrote this poem about myself....
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Natural Beauty: Letter to Myself
Green eyes and a smile that shines.
Dark brown hair that falls in curls.
Wrinkles, frowns, and worry lines
Of yesterday are forgotten. Pearls
Of beauty sparkle. Forget about
The stretch marks and every scar
Across your flawless skin. No doubt
That you are the brightest star
Out there in a fake world. Your
Natural body and face should not
Be envious at all. Do not start a war
You know is pointless. They forgot
You because they thought you were
Just one of the several “pretty”
Girls out there when you are the blur
That passes by. You are that city,
Country and beach girl all rolled
Into one. Someone who is really
Unforgettable like a diamond or gold.
Just a simple girl with nothing frilly.
Dark brown hair that falls in curls.
Wrinkles, frowns, and worry lines
Of yesterday are forgotten. Pearls
Of beauty sparkle. Forget about
The stretch marks and every scar
Across your flawless skin. No doubt
That you are the brightest star
Out there in a fake world. Your
Natural body and face should not
Be envious at all. Do not start a war
You know is pointless. They forgot
You because they thought you were
Just one of the several “pretty”
Girls out there when you are the blur
That passes by. You are that city,
Country and beach girl all rolled
Into one. Someone who is really
Unforgettable like a diamond or gold.
Just a simple girl with nothing frilly.
Written by eswaller
Go To Page
Looking out into Myself
looking into her eyes as always
dark brown fringed with thin lashes
windows to her soul
placed nicely between a nose
wide and a little flat
her hair used to be thick
cascading down her back
as smooth as silk
now on closer inspection
Its thinning on the front
her neck was smooth once
now there are a few wrinkles
a thin gold necklace around it
her ears have never known earrings
now they are just there peeking
Shoulders straight and proud
they have carried heavy loads
they are a little droopy now
arms now flabby once gave hugs
to the ones once beloved
breasts once pert and proud
gravity has won its pull
tummy nicely rounded
always a little chubby
now just there, a mound
dark short hair that covers
the place, often hidden
with white cotton underwear
once upon a time it was lacy
now comfort is paramount
a nice pair of legs
that was once strong and sturdy
they ache most times
nowadays they need tenderness
and expert massages
my soul dwells there
within this shell.
looking into her eyes as always
dark brown fringed with thin lashes
windows to her soul
placed nicely between a nose
wide and a little flat
her hair used to be thick
cascading down her back
as smooth as silk
now on closer inspection
Its thinning on the front
her neck was smooth once
now there are a few wrinkles
a thin gold necklace around it
her ears have never known earrings
now they are just there peeking
Shoulders straight and proud
they have carried heavy loads
they are a little droopy now
arms now flabby once gave hugs
to the ones once beloved
breasts once pert and proud
gravity has won its pull
tummy nicely rounded
always a little chubby
now just there, a mound
dark short hair that covers
the place, often hidden
with white cotton underwear
once upon a time it was lacy
now comfort is paramount
a nice pair of legs
that was once strong and sturdy
they ache most times
nowadays they need tenderness
and expert massages
my soul dwells there
within this shell.
MARGARET
The Mirror of Her…
You would always see her, calm and collected.
Giving her greetings to everyone, as always.
She's a person with lots of scars;
With life's frustrations weighing her down.
Strong emotions and a brilliant mind,
At war behind her foul tongue and sour smile…
Walking off balance along rusty clothesline.
Her words seems nothing but a simple hi and pun sometimes.
But behind her jolly exterior, resides a suspended soul.
Understand her? Very few would.
She has more to offer, that maybe,
But in her character resides Parsimonious;
Embraced by a hedge full of thorns,
That pricks and bleeds her the most.
Her mind, her heart, her whole being,
Is coated with a shell so though that no mallet could ever crack.
She's a good person swimming in a bad place.
Like a chameleon, adorned with a rough skin,
Gut unaffected, malleable and still tender.
But soon, she must get out of that pond,
Before resistance sunk and froze her insides.
Between the lines If you closely see,
A limbo of emotions, simmering and ready to spill.
She doesn’t need it
– others’ approval – she said?
But people are judgmental,
And would judge her no matter what.
She still need others to be by her side.
Caught between a crossroad whose signage
Had long been unhinged and unreadable.
So she must love herself without forsaking others.
To just realize that she can be herself,
Yet be naked at the same time.
To just strip off that armor and stand proud
Wearing nothing yet have everything.
Two roads to go forward, she doesn't see the end row.
Left or Right? Fork roads be damn!
To get naked and feel like a lightweight.
To run with the wind, bake in the sun.
To be reborn, rekindle a dying vigor.
To embrace life with all its beauty and gore.
To reach out her hand for she's not alone.
She's waiting for the right brand of fire, to warm the coldness within.
Nearly there now…
©Oxy2016DUP
All Rights Reserved
You would always see her, calm and collected.
Giving her greetings to everyone, as always.
She's a person with lots of scars;
With life's frustrations weighing her down.
Strong emotions and a brilliant mind,
At war behind her foul tongue and sour smile…
Walking off balance along rusty clothesline.
Her words seems nothing but a simple hi and pun sometimes.
But behind her jolly exterior, resides a suspended soul.
Understand her? Very few would.
She has more to offer, that maybe,
But in her character resides Parsimonious;
Embraced by a hedge full of thorns,
That pricks and bleeds her the most.
Her mind, her heart, her whole being,
Is coated with a shell so though that no mallet could ever crack.
She's a good person swimming in a bad place.
Like a chameleon, adorned with a rough skin,
Gut unaffected, malleable and still tender.
But soon, she must get out of that pond,
Before resistance sunk and froze her insides.
Between the lines If you closely see,
A limbo of emotions, simmering and ready to spill.
She doesn’t need it
– others’ approval – she said?
But people are judgmental,
And would judge her no matter what.
She still need others to be by her side.
Caught between a crossroad whose signage
Had long been unhinged and unreadable.
So she must love herself without forsaking others.
To just realize that she can be herself,
Yet be naked at the same time.
To just strip off that armor and stand proud
Wearing nothing yet have everything.
Two roads to go forward, she doesn't see the end row.
Left or Right? Fork roads be damn!
To get naked and feel like a lightweight.
To run with the wind, bake in the sun.
To be reborn, rekindle a dying vigor.
To embrace life with all its beauty and gore.
To reach out her hand for she's not alone.
She's waiting for the right brand of fire, to warm the coldness within.
Nearly there now…
©Oxy2016DUP
All Rights Reserved
Written by OxyMoronicMe
(G.L.)
Go To Page
Who Do You See
When you look in the mirror
is there someone else
defects in the shimmer
reflecting a hell
or a perfect winner
with stories to tell
the glimmer gets dimmer
when I look for myself .
To step into the world
of other direction
would all the wrong turns
become the right selection
we only ever learn
upon reflection
inside I die and burn
because of all the rejection
I wish I could so turn
the dirt to confection
inside the mirror yearns
my own acceptance .
Who do you see
I don't know if it's me
reflection , rejection
direction , selection
the mirror always yearns
my own acceptance
visual , pictional
optical , recipricol
defects in the shimmer
the glimmer gets dimmer
I do not see the winner
when I look for myself .
When you look in the mirror
is there someone else
defects in the shimmer
reflecting a hell
or a perfect winner
with stories to tell
the glimmer gets dimmer
is there someone else
Who do you see
I don't know if it's me
reflection , rejection
direction , selection
the mirror always yearns
my own acceptance
visual , pictional
optical , recipricol
defects in the shimmer
the glimmer gets dimmer
I do not see the winner
when I look for myself .
I do not see the winner
when I look for myself .
When you look in the mirror
is there someone else
defects in the shimmer
reflecting a hell
or a perfect winner
with stories to tell
the glimmer gets dimmer
when I look for myself .
To step into the world
of other direction
would all the wrong turns
become the right selection
we only ever learn
upon reflection
inside I die and burn
because of all the rejection
I wish I could so turn
the dirt to confection
inside the mirror yearns
my own acceptance .
Who do you see
I don't know if it's me
reflection , rejection
direction , selection
the mirror always yearns
my own acceptance
visual , pictional
optical , recipricol
defects in the shimmer
the glimmer gets dimmer
I do not see the winner
when I look for myself .
When you look in the mirror
is there someone else
defects in the shimmer
reflecting a hell
or a perfect winner
with stories to tell
the glimmer gets dimmer
is there someone else
Who do you see
I don't know if it's me
reflection , rejection
direction , selection
the mirror always yearns
my own acceptance
visual , pictional
optical , recipricol
defects in the shimmer
the glimmer gets dimmer
I do not see the winner
when I look for myself .
I do not see the winner
when I look for myself .
Skeletal Remains Reflected
Nothing alive glimmered in the hallowed fragmented stare searching the broken shards of glass for the pieces of my soul.
Love and thus loss leaving me bare to ponder the disfigurement of my heart.
Cheeks bore the flush of recently descended tears streaming to the floor of nothingness at my feet.
Sleep deprived showed in the dark pools cracking the eyelids, aging me past the youth I have grown weary.
Strands of grey stream the once golden streams of locks, the feriosity of its twisted entanglement a symbol of my toss and turn in hope of forgetting the day, the hour, the meeting.
Reflecting on the skeletal remains presented before me in your memory,
I find no trace of the girl I am.
Who am I?
Who is this?
Simply a reflection...
Skeletal remains;
Of all you left.
Nothing alive glimmered in the hallowed fragmented stare searching the broken shards of glass for the pieces of my soul.
Love and thus loss leaving me bare to ponder the disfigurement of my heart.
Cheeks bore the flush of recently descended tears streaming to the floor of nothingness at my feet.
Sleep deprived showed in the dark pools cracking the eyelids, aging me past the youth I have grown weary.
Strands of grey stream the once golden streams of locks, the feriosity of its twisted entanglement a symbol of my toss and turn in hope of forgetting the day, the hour, the meeting.
Reflecting on the skeletal remains presented before me in your memory,
I find no trace of the girl I am.
Who am I?
Who is this?
Simply a reflection...
Skeletal remains;
Of all you left.
Through My Glasses
Not bad.
Not great.
I'm okay....
Am I okay...?
Staring at my reflection, many questions float my mind...
How should I perceive myself?
Should I be proud?
The familiar lines of my face looks in wonder..
Nose, could be a tad smaller
Eyes, could be a bit bigger
Face seem a bit swollen than it used to be...
Look again, taking it all in...
More curious thoughts roams my mind...
How has my body changed..?
Close the door, lock it tight-
then strip the covers of my insecurities...
Bare flesh, shameless and raw;
naked body reveals
in its distinctive tone of me
Turn this way and that,
sideways and spin-
this is me, the truth of me...
Thoughts, float my mind,
criticism and guilt..
Breasts could be a bit fuller,
legs and arms more slimmer...
Stomach could flatten, but there it lies..
This is me, the truth of me...
What I am,
What I made myself into...
The way I was born
A realization hits-
there's beauty in every different forms
No matter how it comes,
each birth and life is precious..
Yes, I should be proud,
I perceive, me and each everyone beautiful
Embrace the forms of all..
No matter how small, or too big
It is within my mind, to accept and secure myself
Me, and only me,
I am beautiful
I am me
Not bad.
Not great.
I'm okay....
Am I okay...?
Staring at my reflection, many questions float my mind...
How should I perceive myself?
Should I be proud?
The familiar lines of my face looks in wonder..
Nose, could be a tad smaller
Eyes, could be a bit bigger
Face seem a bit swollen than it used to be...
Look again, taking it all in...
More curious thoughts roams my mind...
How has my body changed..?
Close the door, lock it tight-
then strip the covers of my insecurities...
Bare flesh, shameless and raw;
naked body reveals
in its distinctive tone of me
Turn this way and that,
sideways and spin-
this is me, the truth of me...
Thoughts, float my mind,
criticism and guilt..
Breasts could be a bit fuller,
legs and arms more slimmer...
Stomach could flatten, but there it lies..
This is me, the truth of me...
What I am,
What I made myself into...
The way I was born
A realization hits-
there's beauty in every different forms
No matter how it comes,
each birth and life is precious..
Yes, I should be proud,
I perceive, me and each everyone beautiful
Embrace the forms of all..
No matter how small, or too big
It is within my mind, to accept and secure myself
Me, and only me,
I am beautiful
I am me
Selfie Reflections
I avoid mirrors and reflections
I am always caught off guard
With the picture the show me
I look then quickly look away
Who the fuck is that fucker?
Shit he is something to look at
What the fuck happened to him
What happened to his fuckin legs
Thank fuck he’s not like me
I repulse me; can’t explain it
I gag and often cry like a child
A real man no longer
A professional cripple
On electric wheels
Moves very quickly
Head down no eye contact
‘Please don’t see my reality’
‘See me as the man I was
Because in my mind I am’
If you want a photo
If you want a selfie
Only above the waist
Is allowed
I avoid mirrors and reflections
I am always caught off guard
With the picture the show me
I look then quickly look away
Who the fuck is that fucker?
Shit he is something to look at
What the fuck happened to him
What happened to his fuckin legs
Thank fuck he’s not like me
I repulse me; can’t explain it
I gag and often cry like a child
A real man no longer
A professional cripple
On electric wheels
Moves very quickly
Head down no eye contact
‘Please don’t see my reality’
‘See me as the man I was
Because in my mind I am’
If you want a photo
If you want a selfie
Only above the waist
Is allowed
Anonymous
cover the looking glass
all these words that rattle
against the cage bars of my mind
contradictory and confounding
turning me viciously by the shoulders
forcing confrontation
with a myriad of emotions
states of heightened numbness
watching shadows spread across the floor
like wine spilled by trembling hands
and I falter
gazing into eyes I no longer recognize
knowing they once were mine
gone now
hollow places waiting vacant
too long left on their own
windows left untended
where demons are prone to roam
fingers clawing
at the tattered hem of hope
holding between tentative tips
only shredded fragments of its lace
and even the reflection in the mirror
won’t look me in the face
but somewhere in the darkest alcove
a part of the dream remains
no broom sturdy enough to disturb the dust
swept away all vestiges of trust
who knows what tomorrow holds
when darkness is so well known
all these words that rattle
against the cage bars of my mind
contradictory and confounding
turning me viciously by the shoulders
forcing confrontation
with a myriad of emotions
states of heightened numbness
watching shadows spread across the floor
like wine spilled by trembling hands
and I falter
gazing into eyes I no longer recognize
knowing they once were mine
gone now
hollow places waiting vacant
too long left on their own
windows left untended
where demons are prone to roam
fingers clawing
at the tattered hem of hope
holding between tentative tips
only shredded fragments of its lace
and even the reflection in the mirror
won’t look me in the face
but somewhere in the darkest alcove
a part of the dream remains
no broom sturdy enough to disturb the dust
swept away all vestiges of trust
who knows what tomorrow holds
when darkness is so well known
