Unreal Mirrors
by Odin odin@aflx.com — Read all 3,869 poems by Odin odin@aflx.com
Observations of the eerily old feels like one's own reality waiting in the wings. Remembering my father shaving and talking to himself in the rest home reminded me to prepare for the unwelcome mirror… but not for a while. (Image by Pinterest)
Sunday, April 1, 2018
Unreal Mirrors
Shaving…
This Old has time to think,
Lives clumsily,
Needs rail-anchors in the bath tub
Where floating takes on child-like fantasy,
Then rescinding stolen pleasure
With the feather-filled couch.
So nice to sink into.
So painful to rise out of.
Yesterday's love forgetting.
Today's body remembering.
Pitched tent atop a mountain peak.
Sheltering bodies arched.
Pebbles hiding beneath ground cloth.
Affections forever indented in knee-cap memory.
Climbing kisses,
Now but mementos
Afloat within gathering clouds.
Shit!
Miserable mirror on the wall.
Who's most feisty of them all,
Old once knew young.
The Now who knew itself Then,
Beyond any fear,
Above any retreat,
Stares vacantly
At withered skin,
Where trophy scars once glittered,
Their scar tissue aglow,
Now upstaged by a monstrous bruise.
F***ing table corner.
Leaped out from nowhere.
Look at this.
I know reflection's lookin' at me.
Irony sends a smile.
Old smiles back
A gloating embrace of another kind
Without gentle touch
Without a kiss so missed
As time races forward
Readying another chance embrace
Mirrors aren’t real,
They distort.
Don't they?
Of course they do.
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Love ya!
Jane
I am so fortunate not to see myself in the mirror shaving, brushing my teeth or combing my hair like I used to. But I don't take selfies from this computer's camera with its high resolution because I am starting to look like a grotesque caricature rather than the real me from the angle of those shots and the lighting here. Don't post them on the Internet or send them to friends. Best leave old dogs lie. ;-)
Which leads me to medicine's expensive desire to prolong lives. Especially lives that have become painful and decrepit. Do all of these people in assisted living and nursing homes feel good about their lives stretching out until they can barely do anything for themselves. What's wrong with just letting someone die rather than suffer?
I remember the three statements I heard: About my great uncle who died At 98 after seven bouts with pneumonia. His third wife said, "He just quit eating." My grandfather, one day when we went fishing with him said, "I'm just waiting for the good Lord to take me away." And, my uncle at 101 in a nursing hospital… "Hey nurse, bring me a bucket, I want to kick it!"
Ron