Haven't written for a few months... liberal application of WD40
Also might be severely navel gazing with this one. Honest critique appreciated :3 (Note This doesn't really feel done* to me, but I feel like I've painted myself into a corner.) Cleaned often or not, I still can't see
What's near, and right in front of me. A brush of cloth, or clear insight
Brings sharp focus, mirror bright. Briefly seen and briefer known,
Ego, Id, and not alone. There deep within the fogging vision,
All mans love, and our derision. Love again, and fear and pain,
and tenderness, and love again. I think I know these loathsome depths,
These soaring highs at which I wept, We're not so different, mirror and I,
More similar than would appearance belie, But even with this realization,
fog coats the mirror with perspiration, Until a cloth again I brush,
this truth shall know a gentle hush. Like mist across a mirror pane,
I'll slowly forget I'm you again.
I love rhyming poems. The only place where there seems to be an extra syllable is the word "appearance." Maybe you can change it to "looks." The line breaks are not showing up as you intend them unless you put two blank lines where you want a new line.
(Then I'll take another look) Better still, indent
Two spaces and your
Poems will look like this.
Yes much better. I think that's some of what the poem is asking. Yes? No?might be severely navel gazing
Poetry is a good place to do it. Questions of identity are important (in my world anyway). Who am I? How do I come across to others? Can I change what I see in the mirror? Do I have a core sense of self that I carry with me? Am I lovable?
That's definitely a way to read it, and the thought definitely crossed my mind a few times when I was rereading sections while finishing it. In writing it I was thinking more about how when we get to know people intimately, there is a certain reflection of oneself visible in them. You can look at them, at their actions, into their eyes and empathize so completely that you become them, in a way.I think that's some of what the poem is asking. Yes? No?