Let eyes meet eyes, be it mirror or pond,
On own image mirage-like crazy go,
For, today’s youth has grown to be nigh fond
Of self, lessons of Narcissus or no.
Let the English lexicon celebrate
Words which the Greek epics gave -- a long list:
Mentor is one, Medea--- Odysseus’ mate,
Panic from their god Pan, and Narcissist.
The last, a tale of extreme self-regard.
Today’s wars wage, for, we think but of us,
And scarce the green garden of others guard,
Why? Narcissus loves only Narcissus,
The world is surfeit with the tales of narc,
The rest as empaths whilst passively hark.
_____________________________
Tongue-in-cheek | 11.08.2026 | adventure, epic, love, odyssey/journey, self, Sonnet
Note: ‘The Narcissus’ in two parts I am trying to expand into a full Crown of Sonnets in seven parts, if I can.
Post journey of unfolding mystery,
Upon showcasing his epic’s grandeur,
Nolan, next to grand opus Odyssey,
One wonders, what legends would he conjure.
A long list of heroes comes to one’s mind:
Of Oedipus and cheerless Antigone,
Among Greek epic heroes are aligned,
But one stands tall to me, and one alone—
Ovid’s epic that gave us Narcissus,
Folks of all ages love, nod to his tale
Of self-indulging unique me-mine fuss,
More so today’s folks, both male and female.
And his message? Love thyself, warts and all,
Woo, serenade, wine and dine till ye fall.
______________________________
Tongue-in-cheek | 10.08.2026 | epic, love, odyssey, self, Sonnet
Note: Antigone here follows the anglicized spelling with three syllables, and not the Greek with four
I planted a daffodil today
To remind me of you
When it blooms in the spring,
It will show me the way
Away from your vanity~
Perhaps your mirror will crack at last!
Staring at her reflection in
chatoyant mirrors, learning my
last blessings, creeping past
poltergeists during marauder
inspections while I transcribe
her flesh on caesura, pleading
with the Pleiades for soprano
notes to stay on his alto clefs,
hanging gardens in her image
Ombrielle mistress,
Black Narcissus as my witness —
Extravagant, solivagant nymphs
born from lascivious river spirits
want to hear their voices Echo
in mountain cliffs, carried
by arid winds to places
gods’ garments are ripped,
convicting the Prince
Oh Echo why, did she beguile.
Queen Hera with loquacity.
Thou mountain nymph whose winsome smile
Did mask Zeus from complicity
With sylvan nymphs, his sole desire.
Those dalliances once revealed
Set jealous Hera's heart on fire.
Echo was blamed, her fate now sealed
To never speak, till others spoke.
And only then, those last words said.
Then bite her tongue, or she would choke.
This punishments inside her head.
A woodland hiding place she found
In solitude and loneliness.
One day she heard a youthful sound.
His voice her lips, it did caress.
Then " do not hide " Echo replied.
This paragon of many charms,
Bemused he said " please do no hide "
When Echo ran towards his arms,
Narcissus cast her to the ground,
Extolling death, to her embrace
As from her lips, his words resound.
She disappeared without a trace.
To wander evermore alone.
Those mountain caves were her domain.
Soon blessed death, turned bones to stone.
Her voice was all that did remain.
8 / 16 / 2025
My mind hibernates in the void of cavernous complexity,
wakes up in the sensual seasons of mystique living.
The wild psyche forms a sleek and sly unique entity,
as with whisper of intent hiss, dances the reptilian feeling.
Within the deep cold layers many ancient secrets hide,
the sinuous slither of the silent senses can’t find.
Coiled in still shadows of the verdant world outside,
the echo of hostile footsteps is left to fade behind.
A prisoner under the disposable skin of own pedigree,
with an animated grace of fear in introvert isolation,
I see all the frightened faces flee from me,
as I trace my tortuous path in the web of ardent adulation.
In self-adoration, as a symbol of style steeped in serenity,
I see in me a serpentine Narcissus lonely lurk.
Metamorphosed stealthily from an obsessive entity,
it holds the threads of life, waits insulated in the dark.
Let those failed lights
keep their starry darks,
no hidden treasures have
they –
gems who hoard
their sparks, as bushel
a-cap heaven’s dearest
light,
blessed with angel appearance
and nature
now in free mirror fall
kingdom sovereign pool of self
worships self-love, that’s all --
Echo, you dizzy tramp,
I’m searching for my soul.
Echo, I won’t white picket fence my heart
Inside your Jackie bag with brown rusty nails;
I’m searching for my soul.
The mirror princedom of train windows kidnaps me;
I’m a white hermetic monstrosity
The earth bleeds every spring;
I steal the souls of peacocks with my camera --
O the awful love-pain of water reflections,
O the terrible grace I’m courting --
Confucius, go away.
God's Heathcliff gaze finally meets
The white apophyllite eye of my tetragonal suns;
A thousand full moons exfoliate me like a leaf.
Grow my paperwhites in water rather than soil;
Put me next to a bright window before I’m gone.
Body being the sole focus,
Every next person’s Narcissus,
Every town a Pompeii,
Me, mine everyone’s joy,
And self, not the soul, joy’s locus.
_____________________
Happenings |49.02.2019| self
Poet’s note: Scan the malls and mark what most of the people buy. Increasing focus of today’s world seems to be one’s self, grooming, body care, and looking outwardly good, a selfish focus, in almost total neglect of the Self within, one’s true identity.
"Wow! He's handsome", Narcissus would think
as he gazed at himself from the brink
Then he'd lean in to stare
at the lovely lad there
and that's how he'd wind up in the drink!
So once again, you poor thing, did not appear
To help me in the game of fall and rise
It’s chilly to feel lost in mortal fear
My heart is open to your most pernicious lies
Relaxed reptile affects your idle brain
Sad boy Narcissus speaks through you, he smiles
From every mirror, frees of any pain
His lips are moving in the waters of blue skies
You hear him saying never worry, its all nothing
Compared to contemplation skills you own
Sun in the water looks too cold, you’re laughing
While sprouting with petals made of stone.
Still, waters reflected his great beauty
Time lost all meaning as he stared each day
Unable to function his vanity
Preoccupied him in a frightful way.
Narcissus cherished his long golden hair
Adoration for his own countenance
His passion was focused he did not share
To others he displayed indifference.
Daylight and moonlight he sat by the pool
Glimpse of his reflection was all he craved
Starving and weak he was played for a fool
Nothing to be done he could not be saved.
Narcissus went to a watery grave
He joined his reflection neither was saved.
If you think that you are ready,
And you’re feeling rather heady,
Then this just might be the ticket that you need.
Unlike onomatopoeia,
It’s the meter that will see ya
To the proper beat that others soon will read.
For if you can get it going,
Pretty soon it will be flowing,
And your thoughts about the pattern will recede.
If you like the way it sounded,
And no longer feel confounded,
Then it’s likely that you found it, yes, indeed!
—————
Although there is some argument over when the form arose, it consists of 3- line stanzas in pairs, with 8/8/11 syllables, and aab:ccb dde:ffe, etc.
The meter of the lines is as follows:
da da DUM da DUM da DUM da
da da DUM da DUM da DUM da
da da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM
If Narcissus had just been a female
she would not have been infamous at all
Admiring her locks in clear water
she might have been anyone’s daughter
I think that I shall never see
A poem near as nice as me.
When I spy my own reflection
Sultry suitors face rejection.
Such noble brow, bright eyes flash blue
My smile so suave, teeth twinkle too.
Fine profile, Greek, ideal shot,
Six pack of abs, my body’s hot.
So long I’ll linger by this pool
Though deemed one self-indulgent fool.
A thousand years from now, you’ll see,
Gardeners still will cherish me!
March 1, 2022
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