Blind thieves steal the night

plagiarism, don't know the meaning of the word, literally,

I stole the dark mirror

the black reflective frown

I saw myself

trapped inside/wrong side

outside/ looking out

the velvet night swamped me

in bat wings and sonar

Bela Lugosi's dead, am dead,

                                     am dead,

and clocked, just in passing

in the corner of my eye

a drunk clown,

make-up smudged and smeared

s**t dipped, smiling

trying to throw a punch

and caught the lilac scented

edge of the words drawn

in mist/in steam

upon the bathroom wall

lipstick kissed

"we will see you soon,"

the black mirror has spoken

cracked

haunted

broken

Reviews

[R.E. Ray]

When I read poems that I've tried to write it gives me some comfort... knowing someone else has the same junk in their head (just more poetic). This image I see, perhaps a self-reflection in my own mirror...

"a drunk clown,
make-up smudged and smeared
s**t dipped, smiling"

When that black mirror speaks, we crack and break at the reflection. A raw and sincere well-crafted poem.

[gram linski]

cheers dude you got the essence spot on, don't know about more poetic, I've read some of your work, thanks for reading

[barleygirl]

I don't give much thought to plagiarists, except for the general expectation: they'll eventually lose becuz they're losers. To me, your poem embodies this concept with a vivid stretch of SHOWING instead of telling. The world is full of those who cannot make it except by leeching off others. I read your poem to be about more than just stealing artistic wording. I can't be bothered by these losers! I'll just let the inevitable come to pass, as you so hauntingly suggest! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[gram linski]

Thanks Margie, the plagiarism was two words, from a fellow poet, who didn't mind, the rest was all me, If I am reading some fine poetry and a turn of phrase/sounbite catches my mind and takes it for a wander, then who am I to disagree, I've done it a few times and it's been done to me with some great results, soon we will all be one big symbiotic living poem, now there's a thing, lol HUGS at ya

[barleygirl]

I love your commentary . . . reminds me of many rock-n-roll guitarists who brag about stealing licks from each other & nobody gets bugged becuz they're all elevating the artform! *wink! wink!*

[gram linski]

EX..AC.TELEE ! (insert Hendrix solo here, ) it's mine, its mine,

[barleygirl]

I happen to be a Clapton diehard & he came before (led the way for) Hendrix, I'll point out . . .

[gram linski]

yeah then heard Sir Jimmi and prostrated himself at
yon hippys feet, as he has admitted himself, as did every other guitarist from the sixties from Paige to Santana, big hugs, wink, wink

[gram linski]

Leyla ain't no Purple Haze, baby,

[barleygirl]

You're killin' me . . . & I'm lovin' it! *smile*

[Chris Shaw]

That is one hell of a reflection staring back at you

a drunk clown
make-up smudged and smeared
s**t dipped smiling

Dark, harsh reality, not much love for yerself here is there? Powerful free verse that packs a punch.

Chris

[gram linski]

Am full of good lovin' for myself Chris, no-one else will kiss ma sorry bones,

[Chris Shaw]

Pleased to hear it. A bit of self love will keep yer warm when all the others have buggered off.

[gram linski]

Aye but it doesn't half chafe yer hands, lol

[Chris Shaw]

:))...................

[John Alexander McFadyen]

That would be the broken glass fella!

[gram linski]

grind it, powder it, wrap it, sell it, sniff it, welcome to Glesga in the nineties, wasnae called nosebleed city for f**k all, well apart from the weedgie kiss, obviously

[Eilis]

Yep, that’s an eerie one. Makes me think of the disconnect between reality and techno brain. It’s like the lock in the river. It requires a conscious opening, but once that’s done, well. Things just sort of happen.

I did a little stupid dance in my head when I saw the Bauhaus lyric. Takes me back. I met Peter Murphy outside a show many a moon ago and he sang See Emily Play to me. Still have the ticket he signed for me.

Aside from that little memory-shudder, the poem made me feel I ought to spend the day outside looking at trees and such.

Good mood/atmosphere here. Poetically speaking.

[gram linski]

the fact that you recognised a Bauhaus lyric fills me with great joy, do you have a tape of Pete sings Sid ? now that would be a good mood kinda thing

[Eilis]

Nope, sadly not. That was in the early nineties when I was about 15, I think, and handheld recording devices weren’t carried everywhere yet. I think my mom had a cellphone the size of a small briefcase though, haha.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

As often is the case your writes have a haunting and brutal edge. This is no different and the images you project are stark and harsh and emotive. This also has a poesque quality to it. Great free verse!

[gram linski]

the black mirror is yours, dude I just nicked the f****r, and as for Poe he can suck upon my raven forevermore