Best Reflector Poems
Governess of endless flowing tides
Ancient Orb that mystifies
Dusty ochre, bright hot white
Cycling and glowing with borrowed light
Cratered desolate dusty reflector,
Yet invoking your own haunting specter
Revealing all when heavily laden
Ebony cloaking when waning maiden
Luminous shafts caress and bathe
The supple skin of lover’s raves
Wondrous wishing talisman bold
Wide-eyed children cup and hold
Your gleaming form within outstretched hands
All tiny grains of billowing sand
Haunting compass; true and right
For countless seaman through the night
Ageless past and endless tomorrows
Stalwart celestial illuminations borrowed
Rest well within your firmament high
From darkest sable to lapis lazuli
Grace us again in coming night
With opaque splashes
Of
Perfect
Moonlight
RAINMAN
What is art? Is a question, focus of much conjecture
And may be the subject of many an academic lecture
“If you has to ask, you ain’t got it” is a neat deflector
But “We know it when we see it” less flippant a reflector
And chremamorphism may clarify and serve as effector
Roles of fiction aesthetically please, in book, stage or film
But there are those who steer a life at their own helm
Write their story with such style and form that it may o’er-whelm
And we're moved, given joy by their being in reality's realm
There's one who's presence enhanced many a location
As he moved through spheres of news and education
With wit, style and verbal finesse played a role with elation
I laud him, known as 'Rainman' who’s performed such a part
That we perceive his life as a tangible work of art.
Thus he in his existence has embodied the aesthetic
You find me as the happy and willing perceptor
Of a life cast in a holy creator’s kiln
A divine and allegorical creation
That moves emotions such as to impart
A delight as of an experience poetic
25 March 2018
Minuanetta - Poetry Contest
What is the torture of the torcher
Destined to carry light inside, blinded by the darkness outside
Can the two exist in a world of infinite color … Where neither is as clear as the light that shines and the darkness it consumes.
Can one exist without the other
Or is it in fairness that both ignite reflection through a prism of a kaleidoscope of loose bits of colored fractions between flat worlds mirroring changes of position of reflected and endless variety of thought and inspiration of hope and dispare.
None is full in its expression
None holds the fulness of truth
And both appearing as a simply burning of mid night darkness that only uncovers a particle to weak to be a reflector of what lies beyond the streams of consciousness
What is their purpose
To what degree of infinity is there cast?
I see the darkness in the light and the light knows that its existence in the darkness is paramount to its persistence
For it can not shine without the darkness
I see the darkness and its fear of the light and it knows that it will never dim its force of illumination
I see they must exist side by side
And that their commitment to each other is eternal
So What of the torture of the torcher but to except the burden of its witness and to live centered between the two, catching particles of color, reflector of reflector, free to be burned or extinguished ….
in the rapture of eternity in their persistence of the subtle sparks where color is born.
Feeling soft soil squishing between my toes
is but one pleasure my garden provides.
I love how its sweet smells engage my nose,
the sunshine, fresh air, and much more besides.
I've never used chemical pesticides
and welcome nature's critters every spring,
from caterpillars to the birds that sing.
Color draws butterflies to sip nectar,
while wild mushrooms create a fairy ring
encircling my placid pool reflector.
(Dizain)
06/10/2020
The desire to serve
Noble yet ego present
For feel good factor
Love is compassion
A truth we do not deny
If intent be pure
Purity is void
Presence identityless
A humble conduit
Moon a reflector
Has beauty beyond measure
Lifeless without sun
Let us be watchful
Lest we fall in the abyss
Of dark delusion
Ego relentless
Yet it dies in an instant
If we embrace love
04-October-2020
I look in the mirror
but who do I see?
Before, I assumed
I was looking at me.
But over the years
certain changes took place
And now, when I look,
I see only a face.
It bears slight resemblance
to me as I was,
So now comes the question
“but WAS I?”, because
I have a strange feeling,
as in reverie,
That she who I was
was also not me.
Perhaps I’m a dream –
that’s one of my fears –
and never existed
at all, all those years;
Or maybe a myth,
or just a figment
of someone’s imaginings
(to awesome extent!).
Can’t look in the mirror –
too fearful to see
that stranger observe me,
a Me parody!
Don’t look in the mirror.
Look into yourself.
You’ll find what you’re seeking,
you’ve only to delve –
Your heart’s your reflector,
it’s all there to see –
Thank goodness, YES -
I’m looking at ME!
This poem is simple,
but simplicity
is part of that person
that always was me!
To whom kicks llamas
Action reflector reply
Sticky face ingrate
Pride is a motivator, a stimulator of scarlet soul
an accelerator to the next glorious goal
generator of newcoming awakening
cultivator out cunning the unkind
cutting away all the doubts and flouts, leaving the babel and rabble behind,
a slayer of beasts and witches,
pulverizer of all that threatens my wishes,
Pride is an educator, a teacher whom need not flatter
or conspire to push passion higher,
a preacher promisin that you can be better than you thought you were,
transformer from the mediocre to a raw reformer
makin my heart the perfect love performer
romanticizer of the love battles that my Lady and I thunder
reinforcer of our durable dreams, encourager for our beautiful hunger,
Pride has weather, moving me to smile at the wind and bear the barbs of error,
an innovator of my instincts, reflector of bleeding color
It compells me to be a competitor, a finisher, and a star runner,
my blessings won't bow to humble hoaxes
my talent cannot tolerate the tamming of tragedies
my courage will not cower with the false virtue of humble hypnotism
ain't no way a honkeytonk humbler gonna wear away my sway,
my faith will not stumble upon the stones of humble wastelands,
I wasn't born to walk with humble eyes,
I'm alive to thrive with a sacred strive,
in pride I hear the voice of my Creator say, be great or die!
J.A.B.
Her name was Lisa and she was a blonde-haired girl, but her friends called her Starry because she was so into astronomy! She built her own telescope at 12, a humble 6 inch reflector. But she did spend hours grinding the mirror to perfection!
She scoffed at classmates who couldn't even remember the names of all nine planets. Mars, Jupiter and Saturn were her distant friends.
hours in the cold
watching red Mars until dew
fogged the telescope
She checked book after book on astronomy out from the high school library. Unfortunately, by the ninth grade she grew less interested in the stars and more interested in boys.
Eventually, she just took college astronomy electives and finished college with honors, but with dreams forgotten. Yet, I always remember her and her stars...
lifetime
as an English teacher
doodling stars on essays
Published - Cattails - Winter 2016
Sea Czar Caesar sees her seated on a cedar two-seater beside the East Sea Seder. He grieves since he sees his sister, Esther Dexter, with her red festered blister, next her.
Guinevere is pleased her eager leader, Caesar’s seen her. In degrees, she breezes, “Sir, see our sea surf? These sea treasures are pleasures to sea czars and we serfs.”
Caesar desires, if it please her, to seize her and squeeze her.
But Esther Dexter who’s next her interjects the elder perspective protector with an inflective reflector.
“Easy, wheezy geezer Caesar. It may please her if you squeeze her at your leisure, but if you seize her in a fever, she’s sure to seizure; so leave her at ease, sir!”
Peeved Caesar, seethes, sneezes, wheezes, breathes and proceeds. He’s pissed his less best pest of a sister, Esther Dexter, with her red festered blister, persists amidst this tryst.
He flees to cleave Guinevere’s knees. “See here, dear Guinevere. I’m neither teaser nor misfeasor geezer and will not proceed to cede to my tongue twisted sister, Esther Dexter. Please heed to receive my believable plead so I may leave relieved.”
Guinevere is pleased with her Caesar and suggests to Esther Dexter to leave her and Caesar forever.
Deep inside my head enclosed in the deepest center core of my brain
is a file so full and over feed for years has caused splitting migraines
Afraid to reveal things of the past and future of my inter self
I've kept it confined to just let it sit on the shelf
When a soft hush whisper in the lowest of a voice I said
"Your reserve is full you must write and rejoice".
But where to put it to store it I thought it's piled up in years a large heap
some in bundles some on a rack and old ones hiding way in the back
On Poetry Soup of course so younger poets can read and read
and absorbed while giving me very kind scores
The younger they are the more they can restore
accumulating a collection of my cherished writes I so adore
So when I'm gone and my file drawer has closed you will always remember
Of a poet who gathered and shared her personal songs of life's reflector.
9/11/2015 Contest sponsored by: John Lawless 'Inside My Head'
A man is a feeling of wanting to go home to
A real reflection of neighbour wood by actions
A free spirit to share life and never be afraid around
A way of putting a smile and laughter
A reflection that make day and night bright like stars
An adviser, a feeling that can feel every pain you go through
And that’s a true reflection of a man
A family strength, pillar, love, father and a husband with no doubts of wondering
A deep down touching feeling of light
A reflector that modify humanity and woman
Courage, listener and not easily angered and that’s a true reflection of a man
A way of knowing when it’s wrong and apologise
A way of making a woman feel appreciated and never look back to yesterday
An uplifting spirit that turn the mood to happiness
With warm open arms
A better outcome fighter of the future
That’s a true reflection of a true man
Reflection of a true man
Day and night the smell of hope
Day the free walking spirit yet night the sad incentive secret of sleeping
Night the wondering of evil yet smile because the moon is bright
The reflector of day yet night in it
Night the thought of sleepless thoughts
And day the massive courage of light, love and encouragement; spirit
Day the spring of smelling freshness and life
Than night the resting peace but though the mind is troubled by darkness
The ending of everything
Day and night the mother of light and darkness; with pushing and believing in tomorrow
The start of life and smiling for a better outcome
Day and night; day and night
The challenging mind, walking and moving journey
The sad embarrassing and stumbling operation of true feeling of life
And yet night the lifting of thoughts
Day and night
Day and night; day and night
The light and darkness free spirit yet so sleepless; encouragement
Of hope, faith, laughter and survival in it; day and night
Day and night
Her name was Lisa and she was a blonde-haired girl, but her friends called her Starry because she was so into astronomy! She built her own telescope
at 12, an humble 6 inch reflector. But she did spend hours grinding the mirror to perfection!
She scoffed at classmates who couldn't even remember the names of all nine planets. Mars, Jupiter and Saturn were her distant friends.
hours in the cold
watching red mars until dew
fogged the telescope
Her fourth grade teacher, knowing of her interest in astronomy took her to the high school library which had more astronomy books. She checked book after book out. Unfortunately, by the ninth grade she grew less interested in the stars and more interested in boys.
Eventually, she took college astronomy electives and finished college with honors, but with dreams forgotten. Yet, I always remember her and her stars. . .
lifetime
as an English teacher
doodling stars on essays
Published Cattails - Winter 2016
Who are you
A fragrant breeze
to be felt close,
The sweetest red rose
cuddling its origin,
Kindest of heart
that has a healing touch,
Reflector to sunshine
and nurture positive mind,
All what I am not
and just trying to be..
But surely I am ...
a nature lover
Pleading to preserve its beauty,
a human being
Far from hatred just caring,
a heart that believes
In equality for all life,
Longing for ...
peace and not wars,
no discrimination to colour
caste and religion,
no exploitation or killing,
Am I a theoriser
an idealist or an escapist ?
For readers to decide ...
Written April 5th, 2016
For contest by Catie