As a part of one of my hobbies, I enjoy writing poetry. The two poems below were published in Perception Magazine at Syracuse University.
Reflection:
A princess in the reflection—
clear skin, lively eyes,
hair spilling to her hips,
a smile stretching wide.
A princess in the reflection.
Time passes.
The surface shifts.
And shifts again
Something new flickers through—
no longer a princess,
but a model, maybe:
Rose pouty lips, a sharp jaw.
The moment passes
The model vanishes
The surface changed
And changed again
A monster stares back—
eyes sunken, cheeks rigid,
drool sliding down fangs
to a bony neck.
The surface changed
And changed again
Now a frail girl,
big eyes trembling,
a single tear falling.
The surface changed
And changed again
The surface seems to be ever changing
Day and time all factors of its cycle
Never holding still
And never there for that long
The surface seems to be ever changing
Sometimes a model
Sometimes a monster
And sometimes a girl
The mirror is anything but objective
Yet behind each vision is the same girl
with the same face
Sometimes a model
Sometimes a monster
And sometimes a girl.
The Seasons
You took away my seasons
there was no Summer, there was only us
Sun shone down but all I could feel was the touch of you
Fall came around and leaves indeed changed
But all I detected were the leaves covering places you used to be
Cool air replaced the warm, but all I could feel was you moving on without me
Winter was soon after
and while the world was a beautiful white
it had this faint feeling of loss imbedded in the snow
And the gut wrenching reminder that you were never coming back
Even Spring you managed to taint
Because time was moving, but I wasn't
The world was changing again but I couldn’t relate less to the progress
The spring air made me want to crawl back in time
I didn’t mean to bring you along all year
Trust me I wish it could have been different
but it was out of my control
every season reflected the loss of you
What could I do?
This year is different
I now notice the objectiveness of the Fall leaves, and the brightness of the Summer sun
I feel the cold Winter air brush my skin and the Spring wind ruin my hair
It is nice to not carry you through the seasons anymore
sometimes I do feel I am missing something
Perhaps the lack of heavy memory sitting on my chest
But I can breath again
I have my seasons back.
