Mirror Mirror In the Skye Who's This Woman In Your Eye~

~sideways up the rabbit hole and through the hundred acre mirrors~

 Mirror mirror on the wall

and mirror in the sea of squall

do you love me on my knees

or prefer me standing proud and tall

looking glass embedded deep

against my fragments sold so cheap

to the man behind the owl mask

who fell through stains against my glass

where I unlatched a golden box

bit him through with paradox

uncurled his bow tie with my fingers

nimble women caught to linger

pressed against the stone mirage

of my self~inflicted sweet demise

because you see they killed me then

beneath cherry blossoms in his den

when the ball spun dervish devil lightning

and the horses ripped their bodies, fighting

against the code that pushed them down

into the hoofs, breaking ground

and the wolves were caught in daisy chains

of old grand woman draped in blame

as she struck him thrice and yet again

to the sound of music ‘gainst the bed

and cherry wood, it shattered crying

as the wolves rushed through to eat my bindings

but the blossoms rained down cherry pink

though they nursed me through the days of sin

the songs were beaten from my ribs

a nightingale torn from my throat

on the highest, sweetest silver note

 

Mirror Mirror in the skye

the boys look up and fall inside

but who's this woman in your eye

is she the thorn deep in your side

is she the cup of golden ale

that sent the king down to his grave

the barista with the swagger hips

as she hands you coffee like a kiss

the b***h in heels with whip quick tongue

who cut your throat with brandy love

and blocked your kindness with a smirk

when you knelt and gave her diamond perks

 

Mirror Mirror in the dark

what kind of ink could leave this mark

so deep embedded in these eyes

that witches covet, angels hide

mirror mirror tell me so

am I a story to be told

by others' lips and others' hope

as I wind myself in inner ropes

and tighten round my glass of shame

slip on gloves for velvet games

that open every curve of bone

like petals in a spring time prose

mirror mirror will they see

how I delight in being me

how pain is like the sweetest wine

how I crawl it through the dirt of time

with joy like flowers through my hair

my teeth inside a golden vein

mirror mirror how I dream

to one day shatter your extreme

and eat the glossy fragments down

until I'm cut from inside out

until the mirror mirrors me

my reflection back at me

and then and only then will I

know the woman swimming through my eyes

 

 

 

copyright:2009 vssmd/pa inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

 

 

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Reviews

[Pax Analog]

Another richly mythic imagistic ride.

It's all just energy and consciousness. The wild ride, the crazy wisdom is when radical simplicity encounters convoluted phenomenology. One licks the honey-coated razor, noting the blood-honey mix on one's tongue dispassionately. An equal facility w/mad embrace and discerning release recalls stillness-in-the-cyclone Reality.

"mirror mirror how I dream/to one day shatter your extreme/and eat the glossy fragments down/until I'm cut from inside out/until the mirror mirrors me/my reflection back at me/and then and only then will I/know the woman swimming through my eyes"

I'm reminded of a few things. Borges' "Everything and Nothing," wherein Shakespeare communes w/a Voice out of a Whirlwind in a search for identity, having been everyone and no one -- just like God.

The very fact of vision, of imagery, of search, obscures that what we seek looks through our own eyes, that it is not the reflection, but the spacious intuition that liberates.

Everything reflects everything else -- all out of a Void.

Of course Shakti's mad phenomenological dance is a great delight to ineffable Shiva and they are always already One.

[Amber Betty Marie Child..]

ravishing inhale...... when mirror mirror on the wall is displayed to be a chrystal ball on the table its a good write and getting down to soul was an 'o my' then ending with eyes...... o my.

[Andrew Wright]

I close my eyes as once again the clear cup of creativity is brought to my dry lips, I imbibe it deeply, savoring the mosaic of tastes... thank you for allowing me to read this.

[FireWoman]

I hope that one day soon you'll see the real you, as I do. The past formed us clay children into what they wanted; now it is time to emerge into what we want to be and make it so. Looking back is terribly painful as it explains the way we look at life through our prismatic visions of what should have been. You have become an amazing role model for so many with your graceful struggle to the top ♥

[Crow]

Wondrous and thought provoking. I love the eruption of imagery and symbolism, well written.

[C]

A mirrorball of a piece! Just like you.

[Ruth]

Goodness, the reflection of intense proportion!
Selene, this has to be one of my favourite's I think lol
Have to say Pax has said it all here lmao
Excellent work love!
Truly so1
xx

[Matthew Kult]

Hello Selene,

All about the eyes, and the window into the soul. Can one's soul be so dark... to be so demented that it needs to be cut out? Sounds like you need to embrace what is within, just allow your nature, you thoughts, your emotions, to have their say. Let them whisper in your ear...let them tell you where to go..what to do...who to find...Allow them to open up your eyes and see....
Purity, and it's destruction.

With Love,

Matthew

[Brad]

=O........
(thats me drooling)
damn, girl, this purrred right through from first stanza to last...it begins almost surrendering and then in the meat of it...you still have that stubborn streak of standing up

[Robin]

swimming with you ~

[Ed Hart]

..."witches covet, angels hide
mirror mirror tell me so"...

i'm sitting here looking at your poem, and these two lines say all that i can say...
oh, mr pax, doesn't he just mesmerize...not like you, of course, but nevertheless