Not Seeing Myself
To not see my reflection for a full day? That may be difficult, but doable, I know it isn't today, although I did see myself for maybe all of five minutes, so that's close to a full day.
In truth, I think it isn't all that much of a problem. I know where my hair is and how I comb it, so that would be easy enough and when I go hat, I wear a hat, so who's to know if it's combed correctly.
My teeth are still in my mouth so brushing them would be easy, the same with showering, dressing, going to bed and waking up.
I don't think I would be bothered by not seeing myself, no angst, pain or worries.
So, my final analysis:
No reflection for one day is like a vacation from myself. Besides, I know what I look like, but ... it would be nice to see a younger version of me in my reflection at least once.
Not happening.
On a side note: Years ago, I blindfolded myself to see how well I could get around, pretending that I was blind. The blind never see their reflection, but I have to say, after less than an hour, I took the blindfold off. Being blind isn't a crutch and my respect goes out to the blind in how they relearn and rethink the ways of the world and their own surroundings and lifestyle.
(In that less than an hour, I walked into two different walls, one door and tripped over a coffee table and cut my thumb trying to slice a tomato.)
No Mirror On Lingira
I was in Uganda, on a small island called Lingira, and there were no mirrors. A strange detail, now that I think about it, but I went for days without seeing myself. The first day, the habit of checking my hair or studying the circles under my eyes nagged at me, but I soon forgot that mirrors had ever been a part of my life to begin with. In fact, I quickly forgot that there was any difference between myself and the people around me- I forgot that I was white, and American. I felt African, because I made Africa my world and Africans my people. I didn’t even realize that I was thinking this way until I finally did look in a mirror and almost scared myself! Here was this white woman looking back at me, and it was the same person I’d always been, the same face I’d always had.
I suddenly felt a little sad that there would always be this difference between me and my African brothers and sisters. You can say that love is color blind, but no matter what, I knew I’d never truly fit in in the country I’d fallen in love with. There will always be this reminder that I am an outsider. Even if I spend forty years there, I won’t be able to change my skin. But for a few days I forgot that. For a few days I wasn’t white, wasn’t black, I was just a person. Sometimes I think we spend so much time staring into our own faces, scrutinizing every detail, obssessing over how others see it, and we forget to just be human.
I’m not entirely sure where I was going with this... Maybe I’m just rambling. Moral of the story, I guess, take a break from yourself. Go be with people, forget what others see. Just be together with someone. Invite them into your world, and become a part of theirs. Forget the differences between you. Love people who are nothing like you, who’s lives and stories and opinions and cultures and languages and ages are different from yours.
Life is too short- you have to decide how you’re going to live it.
I, for one, don’t want to spend it all looking in the mirror.
Ive Never seen myself anyway
It doesn’t exist
It never lays down
Squeeze low, lupine gangly weeping Ducks
Hoo-hoo,Waaa-Waaa’s crackle sacculated staccato
Bayou-stained above the head of head of my cocoon
Eyelevel but centuries past, or years or days or claymated
Asking to be let be back in
Dripping mucous gold
Into the eyes of mine enemy
And I weave it
Through that tiny hole
Where the crying would like to be
If there was a bit left in me
Whiskey drained it out
Stole my gift
Black velour 3 piece
Skipping, clicking heels
Titanium eyes, just seen as he smiles back at me
With all that the Locusts ate, the years the Locusts ate
In his pocket
Everything that mattered
In his little coin purse
Win, no sir you did not
But for now, I’ll let you still believe that
And in the corner of my mouth, hardened pyramid of 4 days of the bitten bloody nails in the
M tel 6
In the green corners metastasized-into-limp reminiscences
And what I used to let fall on me
I will it back into the duck blind
Cajoling what I was me in camouflaged brown faced 15-year-old boy
And I KNOW THAT he hasn’t a thing
His distractedness wrestles with who I was before he arrived
Before Joe Block Died
Before Joshua Stern Died
Before David Casper Brigante Died
Or Hubbard
the lamentation bows behind the curtains
And Hell shining once in the loam of a beauty
That refrain cannot contain
Hell, yes you formed but did not crystalize
She’ol Slides back in shame.
All things work together.
It will be that way
And not some other way.
Blinded by Darkness
I pull myself
From off the bathroom floor
Soon, family
Will arrive at my front door
I wash my face
And look into the mirror
I’m here again
My heart flooded with fear
I reach up high
Our closet’s shelf, atop
And gather sheets
I hope these are enough
I lay down again
And rest some more
As I feel it
Seep from every pore
I take to task
And start with covering
Our bedroom mirror
With Fleur-de-lis molding
And then the bathroom
I take another glance
And shutter
A ghastly appearance
I think to shower
And wash it all away
Not right now
Perhaps later today
I move beyond
Our bedroom to the kitchen
And shield
Another; my reflection
And so on
Throughout my dwelling place
I can’t stand
To look upon my face
And lastly
I move toward the sight
Of me
On a journey into night
I can’t bear
To gaze upon my life
Without you
Standing by my side
And to realize
In this scent and pain I’m clothed
I’m wrapped in sorrow
In grief’s heavy robe
Perhaps tomorrow
I’ll feel differently
My saddened eyes
Will try to look and see