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Famous Short Mirror Poems. Short Mirror Poetry by Famous Poets

Famous Short Mirror Poems. Short Mirror Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Mirror short poems

See also: Best Famous Short Poems | Short Member Poems | Best Short Member Poems | Top 100 Famous Short Poems

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by Paul Celan

Landscape

 tall poplars -- human beings of this earth!
black pounds of happiness -- you mirror them to death!

I saw you, sister, stand in that effulgence.


by Elizabeth Bishop

To Be Written On The Mirror In Whitewash

 I live only here, between your eyes and you, 
But I live in your world.
What do I do? --Collect no interest--otherwise what I can; Above all I am not that staring man.


by Spike Milligan

Mirror Mirror

 A young spring-tender girl
combed her joyous hair
'You are very ugly' said the mirror.
But, on her lips hung a smile of dove-secret loveliness, for only that morning had not the blind boy said, 'You are beautiful'?


by Emily Dickinson

I see thee clearer for the Grave

 I see thee clearer for the Grave
That took thy face between
No Mirror could illumine thee
Like that impassive stone --

I know thee better for the Act
That made thee first unknown
The stature of the empty nest
Attests the Bird that's gone.


by Robert Louis Stevenson

Katherine

 We see you as we see a face
That trembles in a forest place
Upon the mirror of a pool
Forever quiet, clear and cool;
And in the wayward glass, appears
To hover between smiles and tears,
Elfin and human, airy and true,
And backed by the reflected blue.


by Walt Whitman

This Day O Soul.

 THIS day, O Soul, I give you a wondrous mirror; 
Long in the dark, in tarnish and cloud it lay—But the cloud has pass’d, and the
 tarnish gone; 
.
.
.
Behold, O Soul! it is now a clean and bright mirror, Faithfully showing you all the things of the world.


by Elizabeth Bishop

Sonnet (1979)

 Caught -- the bubble
in the spirit level,
a creature divided;
and the compass needle
wobbling and wavering,
undecided.
Freed -- the broken thermometer's mercury running away; and the rainbow-bird from the narrow bevel of the empty mirror, flying wherever it feels like, gay!


by Friedrich von Schiller

Honors

 When the column of light on the waters is glassed,
As blent in one glow seem the shine and the stream;
But wave after wave through the glory has passed,
Just catches, and flies as it catches, the beam
So honors but mirror on mortals their light;
Not the man but the place that he passes is bright.


by Jack Spicer

Fifteen False Propositions Against God - Section XIV

 If the diamond ring turns brass
Mama's going to buy you a looking glass
Marianne Moore and Ezra Pound and William Carlos Williams
going on a picnic together when they were all students at the
University of Pennsylvania
Now they are all over seventy and the absent baby
Is a mirror sheltering their image.


by Russell Edson

Antimatter

 On the other side of a mirror there's an inverse world, 
where the insane go sane; where bones climb out of the 
earth and recede to the first slime of love.
And in the evening the sun is just rising.
Lovers cry because they are a day younger, and soon childhood robs them of their pleasure.
In such a world there is much sadness which, of course, is joy.


by Regina Derieva

From The Last Island: To Lady Elisabeth Verreet

 Oval mirror of the sea,
age-warped isle waved and cloudy,
each angle crystalline and salty.
my lens into reality.
Point of space just visible, focus of beams ineffable, swith of signals transmissible, receiver of voices inaudible At time's edge.
No need have I to shout in fear about this death of mine.
And any creature here is glad to offer you a glass of wine.


by A S J Tessimond

Don Juan

 Under the lips and limbs, the embraces, faces,
Under the sharp circumference, the brightness,
Under the fence of shadows,
Is something I am seeking;
Under the faces a face,
Under the new an old or a not-yet-come-to;
Under the voices a peace.
Am I a darkness all your flames must light? A mirror all your eyes must look into - That dares not yet reflect the neutral sky, The empty eye of the sky?


by Rainer Maria Rilke

Palm

 Interior of the hand.
Sole that has come to walk only on feelings.
That faces upward and in its mirror receives heavenly roads, which travel along themselves.
That has learned to walk upon water when it scoops, that walks upon wells, transfiguring every path.
That steps into other hands, changes those that are like it into a landscape: wanders and arrives within them, fills them with arrival.


by Richard Brautigan

My Nose Is Growing Old

 Yup.
A long lazy September look in the mirror say it's true.
I'm 31 and my nose is growing old.
It starts about 1/2 an inch below the bridge and strolls geriatrically down for another inch or so: stopping.
Fortunately, the rest of the nose is comparatively young.
I wonder if girls will want me with an old nose.
I can hear them now the heartless bitches! "He's cute but his nose is old.
"


by James Joyce

Dear Heart Why Will You Use Me So?

 Dear heart, why will you use me so? 
Dear eyes that gently me upbraid, 
Still are you beautiful -- - but O, 
How is your beauty raimented! 

Through the clear mirror of your eyes, 
Through the soft sigh of kiss to kiss, 
Desolate winds assail with cries 
The shadowy garden where love is.
And soon shall love dissolved be When over us the wild winds blow -- - But you, dear love, too dear to me, Alas! why will you use me so?


by Anne Sexton

More Than Myself

 Not that it was beautiful,
but that, in the end, there was
a certain sense of order there;
something worth learning
in that narrow diary of my mind,
in the commonplaces of the asylum
where the cracked mirror
or my own selfish death
outstared me .
.
.
I tapped my own head; it was glass, an inverted bowl.
It's small thing to rage inside your own bowl.
At first it was private.
Then it was more than myself.


by Billy Jno Hope

Half Steps

 folly cracked the mirror
a soul gasping wound
voodoo induced vertigo
psychedelic blackouts
in the cracks
between art and blasphemy
paralyzing paranoia of becoming
the vision that heals
cast shadows to douse the flames
starved enlightenment
i betrayed my muse
i wallowed in nostalgic fumes
blood clots from yesteryears insurrection mad dissident desire found wanting a rage dissipating in the twilight of friendship a facade evolved.


by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

PROVERBS.

 'TIS easier far a wreath to bind,
Than a good owner fort to find.
I KILL'D a thousand flies overnight, Yet was waken'd by one, as soon as twas light.
To the mother I give; For the daughter I live.
A BREACH is every day, By many a mortal storm'd; Let them fall in the gaps as they may, Yet a heap of dead is ne'er form'd.
WHAT harm has thy poor mirror done, alas? Look not so ugly, prythee, in the glass! 1815.
*


by Vasko Popa

Far Within Us #2

 Look here's that uninvited
Alien presence look it's here

A shudder on the ocean of tea in the cup
Rust taking hold
On the edges of our laughter
A snake coiled in the depths of the mirror

Will I be able to hide you
From your face in mine

Look it's the third shadow
On our imagined walk
Unexpected abyss
Between our words
Hoofs clattering
Below the vaults of our palates

Will I be able
On this unrest-field
To raise you a tent of my hands


by Rg Gregory

bluefish

 the bluefish was surprised
i was there to greet it

this world it said is mine
it feeds on blueness

for the first time in my life
i felt i'd found my truth

bluefish i cried in joy
you are my deepest mirror

the bluefish gawped in pain
it saw no blue in me

i set about explaining
what we are we are not.
.
.
.
.
the bluefish looked at me in pity - then swam away since then it's stayed with me in every room i've been in


by Ruth Stone

THE TRADE-OFF

Words make the thoughts.
Severe tyrants, like the scrubbers and guardians of your cells.
They herd your visions down the ramp to nexus waiting with sledge hammer to knock what is the knowing without knowing into knowledge.
Yes, the tight bag of grammar, syntax, the clever sidestep from babble, is a comfortable prison.
A mirror of the mirror.
And all that is uttered in its chains is locked out from the secret.


by David Herbert Lawrence

Intimates

 Don't you care for my love? she said bitterly.
I handed her the mirror, and said: Please address these questions to the proper person! Please make all requests to head-quarters! In all matters of emotional importance please approach the supreme authority direct! - So I handed her the mirror.
And she would have broken it over my head, but she caught sight of her own reflection and that held her spellbound for two seconds while I fled.


by William Butler Yeats

Before The World Was Made

 If I make the lashes dark 
And the eyes more bright 
And the lips more scarlet, 
Or ask if all be right 
From mirror after mirror, 
No vanity's displayed: 
I'm looking for the face I had 
Before the world was made.
What if I look upon a man As though on my beloved, And my blood be cold the while And my heart unmoved? Why should he think me cruel Or that he is betrayed? I'd have him love the thing that was Before the world was made.


by Denise Levertov

Seeing For A Moment

 I thought I was growing wings—
it was a cocoon.
I thought, now is the time to step into the fire— it was deep water.
Eschatology is a word I learned as a child: the study of Last Things; facing my mirror—no longer young, the news—always of death, the dogs—rising from sleep and clamoring and howling, howling, nevertheless I see for a moment that's not it: it is the First Things.
Word after word floats through the glass.
Towards me.


by Jane Kenyon

Notes from the Other Side

 I divested myself of despair
and fear when I came here.
Now there is no more catching one's own eye in the mirror, there are no bad books, no plastic, no insurance premiums, and of course no illness.
Contrition does not exist, nor gnashing of teeth.
No one howls as the first clod of earth hits the casket.
The poor we no longer have with us.
Our calm hearts strike only the hour, and God, as promised, proves to be mercy clothed in light.


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