Saturday, September 30, 2006
A Thing Called Vanity
Its red rough handle joins at the middle
to hold the essence of this thing.
Back to back, one zooms in
to show you details that cannot be seen.
The other, just plain you
checking for flaws
a teller of tales, this - bears images
of whoever is interested to look.
Purveyor of truth
you may not want to look
for a very long time.
It stares at you like he's an old soul
frightens me everytime
hence I only give it a glance.
Narcissus probably had a big one.
This is just right. (It isn't even mine)
Made from the finest sand,
melted by intense heat
breaking it will send shards of tiny pieces
if it does not bring you bad luck.
I had to redo the assignment as it did not fully meet the requirements of the assignment. I have too many abstract words and similes and metaphors. These would come in later. Hence, I posted another poem and this is how it goes:
Silver with a Blue Lining
For a dimension of four by one and a half
by one half inches, it has a key for a pound
together with an asterisk beside a zero
numbers in multiples of three
with each one containing letters
from A to Z
two arrows and a cancel button
brand name above
yes and no below
mouthpiece and receiver hardly visible
screen flashes symbols for silent, signal
and its battery charge
Friday, September 29, 2006
My mother - alone in her bed
with neither memory nor care.
She is nothing but a shell
fleshy mollusk meat gone
the soup down to the last gulp.
Like the debris found in the morning
of a full night's revelry
confetti strewn thick on the pavement
amid trash of firecracker paper.
A birdcage without the bird
or a flower without the scent.
This is what she finally seemed to be
With probing eyes and withered hands
she held my face!