_______________________
This three-piece limerick captures universal struggle for one’s identity. How the masks (vain emblems/hats we wear) eventually alienate us from who we truly are.
________________________
I never failed to flaunt my vain emblem
That I wore long years to hide who I am,
Therefore the man I was
For long was held in pause,
And now I scarce know from what roots I stem.
Now, were I to meet him, say in a lift,
I wonder, should I doff my hat or lift.
This dilemma’s dingdong
Has stayed with me for long,
And with this odd impasse in life I drift.
The bell then rings, the heavy doors swing free,
I drop my hat and face the man I see.
I step out of the box,
Unlocking all my locks,
And simply walk away as ah, real me!
_____________________
Reflections | 05.02.2009 revised in September 2026|
One night, I awoke remembering
the end of a dream like a movie trailer
Between shrouds of murky clouds unfolding
I saw the ancient wooden face carved on a totem
Perhaps an anonymous spokesman at death’s door
Perhaps my projection, just my reflection
or a phantom, a disturbing conundrum, I dare not say
I felt a withering mortality at my core
Yet, it contained all my living tree rings within
my years of stories, husky or thin
This shaman totem mask began to slowly speak
At first its mystical verse was somewhat oblique
Then in rich, tranquil tones, in humane inflexions
the face spoke, redolent and subliminal in my thoughts
Breathing deeply, I intuited what I was taught
Some seek refuge in still flower gardens
in stationary reflective pools of quiescence
in glistening golden altars to numina
But these material places are ever-changing
Illumination is the great revelation rearranging
of the consciousness animating all things
¦¦¦ masks and metamorphoses of ¦¦¦¦¦ Native Son
¦¦¦
¦¦¦ icy evil ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ravished ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ into madness
trapped ¦¦¦ in violence of a punished self
struggling to break free.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
he fled his name, became the quarry of
his own obsessed pursuit.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ swinging those chicks
in the hot rose and reefer glow.
His injured childhood bullied him.
He skirmished ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ cannibal flowers of the American Dream--
but could not hurt the enemy
powered against him there.
(Blackout of El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz (Malcolm X) by Robert Hayden)
Behold the living and the dead.
The false name of your mask never dies,
And your distant, weeping confession
Is a pain that belongs to you alone.
Even if the love of sorrow drifts far away,
A dream that cannot laugh remains your only freedom.
The axe that strikes after blind faith
Is a wound of yours that can never be washed away.
The beauty within your singing voice
Is a silent dignity you can never confess.
Behold! Look at that light of reflection.
Are you still walking all online, all alone?
Masquerade in the Night
(Masked for the Masquerade)
[Verse 1]
Flickering lights, shadows dance on the walls, Lost in the crowd, hear the echoes of calls,
Masked for the masquerade, secrets unfold, with every step, new stories to be told.
In the haze we trust, minds so clear, no need to hide, face every fear.
[Chorus]
So hold on tight, we’re chasing the dawn, in this masquerade, we can’t go wrong, Through the smoke and mirrors, we will find our way, Together we shine, come what may.
[Verse 2]
Mirrors reflect what we choose to disguise, Searching for truth behind these painted lies,
In a world where GPS got me misled, finding my path, but the journey’s NOT dead.
Step by step, we rise and break, in this dance of life, we create our fate.
[Chorus]
[Outro]
Masked for moments, still feeling alive, In the heart of the night, we dive.
He bruised my skin, he broke my will,
Each word a blade, each silence kill.
My laughter gone, my spirit torn,
A hollow shell, a life forlorn.
He chained my mind with fear and blame,
Made loyalty a twisted game.
Every tear was called “too much,”
Every plea dismissed as such.
Then came a man, a hero bright,
A masked avenger in the night.
He held me close, he fought my pain,
He swore to free me from the chain.
His touch was gentle, strong, secure,
His kiss a promise to endure.
But as we kissed, it felt too near,
A taste, a breath I used to fear.
Then suddenly the memories crashed
The slammed doors, the bruises, the shattered glass.
The same rough hands, the same cold stare,
The same dark feeling filling the air.
My fingers trembled as they reached his face,
Ripping the mask with desperate haste.
My voice broke sharp, wounded, wrong
“Oh … it was you all along.”
He paints a face for all to see,
Of grace and high morality.
He scolds the world for every sin,
While hiding all the rot within.
He loves the mask, he loves the lie ,
Until the mirror catches his eye.
Riding out
into the sunset
towards sunny uplands
before moons fall
scattering rock
and tiny diamonds
as crimsoned penumbra
encircles all things.
Dark swoops like a bat
to engulf the rasping throes
of surety.
Dawn awakes fretful
Mirrors and masks fail.
I live with a mask
A mask of survival
As if it were natural.
With hatred and disgust
I search,
For authenticity.
Walking with falsehood, yet still hoping
For sincerity.
Carrying a sense of unworthiness
Cracks in my mask—
I move forward,
Chasing your silhouette.
Exquisite definition of porcelain skin.
Cosmetic, betraying what is within.
Creepy scars of emotional drain
Entirely based on self-disdain.
Devoid of pleasure dispensed,
Elastic features unrecompensed.
Neon lights that flash of guilt
Tantamount to dying daisy's wilt.
Evermore in sadness reigns
Scary images wrapped in chains.
Initially and suddenly rises
Action that eventually excises
Smiles not natural, likelier disgrace,
Tears belie that faience face.
She wears a mask, calm and unreadable,
What she shows is never what truly stays.
In thirst, she offers the illusion of an ocean,
Dreams appear, but completion slips away.
I ask myself—is this love or quiet confusion?
Yet in her presence, my weariness fades.
Maybe one day love will rise through the silence,
Without her, every vision slowly breaks.
She returns like a thought I cannot escape,
I am not enough, not whole, not chosen.
Her heart has known a deeper affection,
Still, I remain, bound to what is unspoken.
Happiness stands just out of our reach,
Memories linger longer than they should.
Promises dissolved, vows left undone,
Dreams scattered where hope once stood.
Love? Perhaps it never truly lived,
Only reflections of what I wanted to believe.
“ICE MAN”
Hey, Ice Man!
Why must you hide
Behind that mask?
Where are you from?
I want to know.
Are you like I?
Why do you fear being known?
Are you a friend?
Are you a neighbor?
Are you a teacher, a preacher?
I just want to know,
Who you are,
Why do you hide your face?
Hey, Ice Man!
I just want to know,
If you are my son?
Unmask, that’s all we ask
The drum roll
beats out control
in a game
of warped reframe.
On a coiling balustrade
plays meister masquerade
to craft the will
at bellowed drill.
Docile rule
disarms to fool.
With artful ruse
the vapid lose.
All days- my eyes long
For your beauty's plug,
That leads mind along
Heart, dreaming loves; hug.
All days- my hands feel
Calm to let go; yours
But stormy a deal:
Love's lonely breath cures.
All days- my smile faint...
Whenever you leave,
I do act a saint
Whose guise relieve.
All days- wish you know,
What I undergo.
Minds with different impressions
Eyes are of divergent quality visions
Mouths are of same but antithetic confessions
One thinks of Corona; another of secrets
Even with open eyes, we transmit different wits
To the world; world of colourful summits
My mask; behind it, I laugh and gasp
Like Moses in eyes of Pharaoh's asp
Growing rhetorical in my own silent rasp
Who did Corona and scientist take God for?
May be it would be difficult for Him to restore
And deliver the world He owns to the very core
Behind every mask lies fear
Even doctors' concerns shrinks to bear
And every lost soul let loose our cheap tear
I wonder if my mask is enough a credible care
In memory of covid 19
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