I wrote two poems in my creative writing class today. And I like them both.
Perhaps with a bit of revision they might be something that I can be proud of. Here they are:
Netherworld of reflections
By E.
When I am not really looking,
I do truly see:
A mirror,
the puddle,
chrome bumpers,
Her Father's storefront window.
In it a world we can never touch-
and place we can never go.
True to life, or false counterpart?
'Tis the netherworld of reflections.
Where you see and what you see reflected-
are your faces of internal reflection.
Sparkle and shine are the result of the surface-
Superficial and polished sparingly.
Alas we be brought back to reality
where one considers the invariable Truth:
Nothing really but beams of light,
hastily transmitted back into the air.
Erasing Ethnicity
By E.
The mind's vibrant color eclipses Black
and one's everyday flats edge out stiletto heels-
To a place where silk-chiffon-and-ribbon streams of thought
skip-to-their-lou in tourmaline chains.
Where the sweetest flavors of Plum and Berry
are content to be worn on the eyes, cheeks and lips-
and purposefully seek to disguise an age of obscured origins.
Allowing for the soul's mercury to plunge to icy-cold lows
we are lead scantily by multibillion-dollar demons.
Let us hope that a few still be concerned with True hue
and let them be the copper-colored hope of the future.
