Ghost

[Bakiryu]

Why doesn't the mirror answer anymore?
I asked it the question but I only see her
shrouded in waves of the darkest coal and opal
glimmering in the visage they tell me is a face
her lips parted like a cheskire cat
she smiles

why doesn't my reflection turn and pirouette?
but only smiles in shadows and the broken fingers of dolls
starfish for teeth, skin of feathers
red, red like blood and dreams of dresses and shadows
the silver of old, ancient afternoons
spent playing chess with drunk uncles and other
memories of men

in the end, there's no one
and perfection
because if,
she pulls up her dress
yes, she pulls up that white dress
she'll see only the ivory ribs of whales
and the round gloves of moonflesh they so covet

and she'll whisper "no"
"there's no one here"
"no one loved,
nor beautiful,
nor fair"

(criticize as much as you want!)

[Bakiryu]

Bump? :(

[islandclimber]

hey hey hey... no need for the sad face.. I already said so on your blog, but I will say it again here.. This is beautiful! I love it! One of my favourite poems on Litnet!

just the vivid image of looking into a mirror and seeing only sadness and depression and intense melancholy, as though that is the only reality there ever will be... for the ghost in the mirror seems to have become dead and lifeless, what about reality... It's so sad and yet the way you describe it, your metaphors, they are so beautiful... :)

[Virgil]

Baki, this is really good. This stanza is fascinating in its depth:

why doesn't my reflection turn and pirouette?
but only smiles in shadows and the broken fingers of dolls
starfish for teeth, skin of feathers
red, red like blood and dreams of dresses and shadows
the silver of old, ancient afternoons
spent playing chess with drunk uncles and other
memories of men
This is rather odd but visualy captivating:

in the end, there's no one
and perfection
because if,
she pulls up her dress
yes, she pulls up that white dress
she'll see only the ivory ribs of whales
and the round gloves of moonflesh they so covet

Baki you've got talent!!

[Pendragon]

I've said it before and I'll say it again, sometimes the title is as important as the poem and maybe the selling factor. Here, Ryu, the title of "Ghost" combined with your imagry:



but only smiles in shadows and the broken fingers of dolls


red, red like blood and dreams of dresses and shadows

ant then:


she'll see only the ivory ribs of whales
and the round gloves of moonflesh they so covet
gives one the sense of the surreal scene you are building up. Very Edgar Allan Poeish!

[B-Mental]

:ladysman: As I mentioned in your wonderful blog, I love it, and I love you Baki. Now I'm looking for the cowbell. B

[dibyendra]

Dear Baki, I really loved this poem for its vivid imagery and metaphors. It's really a moving poem written from the bottom of the heart and one of my favourite as well like Lucid stated earlier. Keep up your good work Baki.

Love,
Dibyendra

[Bakiryu]

Thank you! :blush:
I wasn't sure if you guys would like it.