I stand before the mirror,
expecting something familiar
something that feels like me.
But what looks back
is a distortion
of everything I thought I knew.
At first, I call it deceit.
A reflection that lies,
a surface that twists
what should have been simple.
But then it shifts.
Not the mirror
me.
Perhaps it was never distortion,
only a truth
I refused to recognize.
Blinded by what I believed I was,
I failed to see
what I had become.
The eyes appear lit,
yet all I see is dimness.
The face seems cheerful,
yet it feels distant
detached,
unreached.
A girl stands before the mirror.
But the reflection
she lives the life
I was supposed to live.
And somewhere between the two,
I remain
uncertain
of which one
is truly me.
Every step made with anticipation,
Words written with hope ,
Dreams dreamt under the stars ,
Words articulated with care .
The pen and ink all witnesses,
The paper the great bearer of truth,
The walls saw in silence -
As the future got laid on white paper.
Dreaming is good ,
Having hope is sweet,
Plans make the future seen ,
But failure comes unannounced
Masterpiece of pain
Each night is a masterpiece of pain
that lingers in her broken heart
trying to find what was
and what is now
she sips memories and lives
the curse of love in her cozy
domicile where in the midst
of broken stars she lost it ....
—a constellation of pains
that still stands upfront
monumentally, gazing at its beauty
the day that only matters
is a memorial event that swallowed
the one she had.
Now sitting in a canvas of thoughts
journeying to the unreached cores
of what was—
a thing that flickered like a storm
in the autumn winds
now is pain that whispers its lines
to her ears for the love
that was stolen by time
leaving only memories
painful —deep scars
broken —unhealed wounds
dimmed, weary eyes
and hope // soons
She gets lost every blink of an eye
in the mysteries of unreached paces
of love / what was.
©® MZEE MACH
26th Dec, 2024
I drive alone down misty roads
where the morning’s frost still lingers
on the earth, grass, leaves unreached
by the feeble winter sun
whose fingers slowly withdraw
into the white blankness
of unmoving air.
The road bends as it climbs between
the shadowed pines and
leaping across the road
two roe deer, almost always two,
run from the shrouded trees
slowing my progress as I scan for more
to disappear again in depths of forest.
Higher the road climbs these mystic hills
higher still until the sky appears
that clear blue dry-air winter sky
full of all light but bereft of warmth.
I think of home, as I clear the misty hills,
mystic still but now illuminated
by the light of memory, of love departed,
thoughts of you beside me
almost always you beside me.
As I drive alone out of the higher ground
the frost still lingers but the feeble sun
has banished the obscuring mists
full of all light but now
bereft of warmth.
One last Carolina Wren
jabs and hops
inside a shrinking ring of pale sunlight.
At the white door of a cold season
the wind dresses a scarecrow
with the spiny feathers
of the already dead.
Ice scabs pockmark a creaking earth.
A green legend
sinks deeper with every sunset.
We walk in our pockets
hands clasping at the blood-heat
of secretive shadows.
Boots tread through the sludge.
of an ever-lowering sky.
Ice pinholes vision,
one eye remains veiled,
the other
turns like a lighthouse.
Thresholds slip away
unreached.
O child of Mother Africa
The tortoise is still on the road
Realities cannot hold, dreams dying
Hopes turn to ashes every day
Cry O Ghana, O Ghana
Rich and green Nation
Shame and poverty clothe the people
Electricity is being rationed like
The meal of a poor man
Cry O Ghana, O Ghana
Welcome to the land of myths
A place where nature used to abound
Now a place of decaying bones
A lovely nation, my Ghana
Cry O Ghana, O Ghana
Heaps of unreached goals
The youth die without their heritage
Homes and families leaking milk
The farm is an old cow
Cry O Ghana, O Ghana
But as the heat of the Sun rages
We continue to press towards the goal
O Runners, a marathon lies ahead
We must run until the end
Or we will never stop crying
With Habakkuk Kargbo (Rabbi)
©?Poem Makers SL (26/04/24)
An unforgotten depth,
An unreached ground,
Answers haven’t been found,
A dim lamp stands in the corridor.
He sojourns with a vague understanding,
He seeks to know the reason for his troubles,
To find the path out of the gloomy bubbles,
He has searched the deep for a reap.
He has walked out of the night,
He has sojourned to the light,
The tendrils of the night still trail him,
He has seen its different sides
The book hasn’t answered all his questions,
The sages say it’s a purposed intention,
He still journeys to redemption,
Until time and age bring him completion.
Nemesis bird eludes twitcher
That darn wanton bird
magically escapes my gaze!
'Tis a supernatural curse
that keeps it unreached.
The allured mind roaming restive
in the searing desert engulfing,
seethes in the pensive pores
of the swirling sands desolate.
The drops of sanguine sense desiccate,
the dust of desire swirls
with the transient sheen,
transforms into tantalizing mirage,
flashing with the tangerine tinge
of the sinking sun suspended
on the evaporating skyline,
where the flicker of mirage called hope
disappears from the myopic vision blurred,
like the golden deer fleeing
from the elusive oasis unreached,
at the end of the craving trail unwalked.
_______________
March 26, 2023
For Strand No 1203 Contest
Abandoned plans,
Deserted desires,
Unreached goals,
Unfound ways,
Gloomy days,
Blotched painting,
Ambivalent waiting,
Uncovered holes,
My feet are held in these,
The image is recalcitrant,
Refusing to be unveiled with ease,
Tailored pieces,
They fray at the edges,
Deep waters,
Searching for shallow grounds,
Dawn's matters,
Hold sway,
None of these is a delight,
Anticipating heaven's light,
Sojourning,
Listening to blessed sounds,
Finding peace in nature's ambience,
Drawn to His presence.
January 31, 2023.
song is the freedom of captured souls,
trapped in unseen cages with unreached goals,
unravelled deep from heart, played with flair,
their melodies are set free in air,
rebound from stony walls, flow down streams,
ripple emotions, make and break dreams,
echo from mountains to the blue skies,
someone, someone please undo their ties!
rusty chains, shackles prison free thought,
black bird in the cage, yearns for her lot,
strings of violin play birds a lore,
of their happy days that were before,
freedom is greatest gift of our life,
that is often lost to human strife,
let them all free, let their hopes soar high,
let live in freedom, in freedom die!!
First placement
Written 26/10/2022
Lisa YY sponsored
Painting prompted poetry contest
based on picture 3
in support of many women in the world who are denied basic rights- in countries with primitive laws!
9 syllables each line 8+8 lines
113 words
The surging stream cascades in swirling ebullience
Through dancing shadows of swaying trees entranced
The spectral dew drops draping the glinted grass tips
Weave lattice of splendor on the meadow bejeweled
The drizzling dust on moonbeam in blue satin night
Adorns the pearl laced waves of rolling sea beguiled
That’s where I look for my muse elusive.
Up above the majestic mountain’s serenading slopes
Waits the sun-soaked summit of ecstasy unclimbed
Far down the verdant valley’s slithering spine curved
Sparkle emeralds on picturesque plains untreasured
The rain-washed sky spreads the tapestry of dreams
Of chromatic imagery on rainbow horizon unreached
That’s where I seek out for my muse concealed.
The sun rises with the grandeur of the nascent dawn
Lifting the veil of miasma from the sense of unfeeling
The winds of imagination blows on the mindscape
Raising the dust of all dormant emotions unbound
Turning them into a surging storm of creative urge
Flying the muse to me with afflatus unconfined
That’s when it makes me a poet profound.
________________
June 30, 2022
For A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Contest
Waning threadbare hope,
He faces uncertainty,
He craves a ration.
February 21, 2022.
Oh bird
Say thanks to God
For allowing you to fly
To touch the clouds
And sit back in the pinnacle of tree or tower
Say thanks again
For not giving you the chance to fly to the Sun or Moon
As it's life threatening to you
Oh human
The same advice is there for you too
Say thanks to what you get and what you didn't
Sometimes getting everything
will lead you to the road of trouble
And missing can also be a blessing
Keep in mind the proverb
What is therefore you will come to you
I'm waiting for that day
Where I can leave the burden of my hope
and live like a floating paper boat
That never complains about the unreached destinations
Unexpected twists and turns, and hard realities they face
But it seems difficult to me to throw away my hopes
As it made me what I am
At the same time I can't carry the heaviness of it anymore
As it outgrown me so hugely
Dilemma rules me from hair to toe
Even if all these are around
I still want me to get at ease without being futuristic
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