THE LOOKING GLASS
(Down The Rabbit Hole)
To wish someone
You've never met
You'll never hold
To great regret
For time and space
To shrink and swell
Down the rabbit hole
You fell
Where Rabbits late
Will not wait
On questions
Quaint, so trivial
Where Queens insane
Would ask the same
But take your head
And soul as well
Hares and Hatters
Serving tea
With manners more
Than empathy
Where Turtles cry
A Phoenix flies
And dives
Into the burning sea
A Walrus wails
His empty pail
Fills with guilt
When all else fails
Where presents past
And futures last
The answers in
The looking glass
Nod to Lewis Carroll
.
Broken shards on her
Like a shattered sawblade
Stuck deep in her body
Deep enough to reach beyond
And hurt her "was, is and will be"
Yet she chooses the light reflected on her
Instead of her mutilated image
Glass on me , but-
Am I a sculpture in glass?
delicate to touch
Fractured just from the fragility
Or molten sand poured on skin
Like a bandaid
Covering my burned skin
Fragile or Masked
Wounded or not
I may never know
Cause my glass never allowed me
To see myself as a whole
Saw meets me
For its reflection to see
Shards may dig her flesh
But the beauty in flesh still clear
She hugs me-
It hurts to share the shards
Like spears impaling both of us
For once pain was not only hers
For once I had real glass to blame
In a looking glass world
Everything looks about right
But is in fact backwards.
Now tolerant modern liberal societies
Are taken over by backward tribalists
Who call for the death of their hosts
While those few places
That still preserve their borders
Are called xenophobic and racist
As their populations simply live in peace.
Increasingly men think they can be women
And women men.
There are even some socalled conservatives
Who think they are conservative,
And best of all are the many liberals
Who actually think they are liberal!
The delusion runs deep
In a looking glass world
Everything appearing real and true
While it is only a mirror image.
(8/29/26)
Brewed with similar ingredients
as when baking bread,
a Maßkrug of beer in Germany
is called a 'glass sandwich' instead.
Yet, as half a loaf
is better than none,
if the glass is half full,
and another half empty,
of the two,
which is the optimal one?
She is picture perfect in broken glass,
Wearing the look of a heartbroken lass,
Lilacs bloom, but she's not aware, alas!
~
Lavender life goes on, leaves her behind,
For it knows of her hopeless state of mind,
She's in a flux, a depressed black hole bind;
~
Who can rescue her from this forlorn mood?
For she seems saddened and by sorrow blued,
Shards pierced her heart, she cries in solitude;
~
Let her free her mind and bawl in silence,
Bipolar woes have given her license !!
Help her stand against strife in defiance !!
~
Be there for her when she goes through such times,
Pick up the shattered mirror shards sometimes,
Aid her as she builds from them tinkling chimes !!
©Joanna Daniel (26.08.26)
THE GLASS EGO
The jaded heart doth stop and start,
posed on a weak pretense.
Assured in self beyond the pale,
a peacock on the fense.
It proffers not romantic end,
and does so on the sly.
Corrupted deep and long ago,
a snake with stalking eyes.
Alone in love or solitude,
it strikes without a thought,
like cornered beast compelled to fight,
it's destiny was wrought.
To run and play another day,
a front with which to hide.
This fated heart's not set apart,
the pain's pushed deep inside.
A wall too high for eagles' eyes
ensures a sightless plight.
A heart so blind the light offends,
oft crashes in the night.
The toughest fight oft fought within
twixt truth and darkest past.
Forged in the fires of fear and hate,
an ego made of glass.
Gleam in the mirror acts like it’s running some bright scheme,
stream of thoughts tell me I’m not as mysterious as I seem;
Twirl the frame and watch my reflection start to whirl,
furl a knowing grin, amused I’m trying to look like a serious girl.
Glows from the glass suggests it’s wiser than I know,
shows me practicing pep-talks I perfected ages ago;
Slide into view and see my mirror-self politely hide,
wide grows a teasing grin, “Nice effort,” with pride.
HOPE
HOPE
thin light
gracile flame
27 years in stone
cold air danced on the floor
he smiled through broken prison glass
"hope survives even in the smallest cell"
Gracile
thin cold air dances where Madiba sits on the jail floor and hope smiles through broken glass
I
as
a child,
loved night time.
Summer with fireflies,
made the nights very magical.
We love catching them and putting them in a glass jar.
The pretty jar was all aglow then morning came a sad funeral for all of them.
a blue glass marble slips from light~
a wandering bright, a small delight
that rolls beyond the day's soft sight;
its quiet arch completes the night.
Superlatives are my mean, my methods my mode the moony mock-Ra glass marble fables untold, the story fair, the hair golden, a new golden thread, bursts from the olden, like streams of pasturesque villages that trickle in the floods of which inundate the past, such a surly hub.
They know better, I know less
So I’m fortunate enough
Not to delve into that mess
PMs, politics and stuff
Show up anytime you can
Dear faithful friends of mine
Tell me of your best laid plans
Speak about your latest finds
If my glass is full, I’d listen
If it’s empty, I may say
Please excuse me for no reason
We’re not friends, at least today..
i wander back home
a ruby scarf on the hook
the mirror holds light
winter waiting at the door
i stand before going in
rain beads on the glass~
summer light drifts through the room,
old dreams breathe again
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