Edit Poem
Editing Instructions
Please note in the NOTES textbox below that this poem has been edited, do
not put your name, please put as the following: <!--EDITED by moderators
on (Date) for (reasons).--> DO NOT remove the line break (
<br /> ) html coding at the end of each line break, these are
needed to form the correct lines. THE CHEATIf you do not wish to
delete a poem, or a certain part of a poem, and instead would like to send the
url to Mick via PM for confirmation, enclose the entire poem (or part/s thereof)
between <!-- and -->
(ie. <!-- POEM TEXT HERE
-->). This will still save the text, but will make it invisible from
viewing (other than page source view). You could also add before the
<!-- something to the effect of "This Poem under review".
This Mirrored World I Find Myself In
This world in the mirror
with everything backwards or upside down-
mocking clarity and direction,
is cantered, askew, imbalanced;
how dangerous (in this mirrored world)
to snip hairs upon one's ears-
scissors sharp unforgiving slice seeking red
when up is down, left is right.
This mirrored world I find myself in-
a land tossing away for a pittance (unpardonable sin)
Wolf Larsen and Hump's written debate;
London's mighty gift all but given away,
squished between pricey satanist video games-
literature golden, not treasured as sanity demands,
instead tabled cheaply for yard sale fans.
This mirrored world I find myself in-
where millionaires are born filming the idiot's grin
for vacuous eyes (sadly) billions strong;
slack jawed and empty, humming mediocrity's song-
this mirrored world where philosophy molds,
dying in favor of sexual delight,
this mirrored world where thinking is mocked,
where bad is good and wrong is right.
Another mirror perhaps is required?
Inverting inversion to set it all right?
this doubly tossed world, anew and correct
where mundane is discarded for fresh intellect.
How much would I give to glimpse such a prism,
the rendering sundering break of this schism...
“What? I can see it? Where? Tell me how!”
“In your den, on your shelves, in your solipsist view-
no mirrors need hang distorting askew-
physically small, those four shelved walls....
but key less and boundless, your mental savanna
holding at bay the skewed world of today...
small gift that it is, your scissors in hand-
snip snip without fear on your ears in this straightforward land.”
|
|
|
|