Found poems: fragments & theories from Madeleine Burns
I
I know, I know. Life is a pool of mirrors through which you wade for miles to find your true reflection and at last, at last you recognise yourself: the mean, the cruel, the spiteful little body. Yes, yes. You saw her in my eyes at first, these little lakes, these flooded halls of truth, and truth to tell I mirror you most faithfully. like an expected mother. But I am not your mother.
II
Look in the glass. I'll hold it. You'll see loveliness framed in your face like the jewel of a mind embraced by insight. Dual deception, fool.
III
I like what I see in your mirror. I am abashed to find myself so kind, gentle, assured, loving. May I come closer? Ah yes. I like myself. Loving, assured, gentle, kind. And closer still. There is a problem with the design. I believe the glass is flawed. It errs. I have never been loving, gentle or assured. I hate myself. I am the kind who smashes mirrors.
IV
There is only one true self. It is in a thousand million fragments broken and glittering. I stuck one of them in my heart; several in yours. You can cry all you like.
V
I will be your looking-glass if you will be mine. In you I see a thousand of myselves: smaller, smaller. Endless. I like my bright reflection. I like that you like it. Can we stay together always? Quick.
VI
The day I saw the mirror lies the day I saw the day - it was terrible. Ugliness. I saw ugliness - mine. Blood in her eyes.
VII
I love you because your house has no mirrors so I have stopped looking for myself but I am hungry. Why do you say it's time to go?
VIII
The new-born has no problem with decisions but there are issues. Food is an issue and there is curiosity which will not go away. The baby is impervious to mirrors for a little while. Then one day it sees a person in its mother's eyes who may decide everything.
IX
There's no need to - give up smoking - get bigger breasts Show him a reflection of the man he really wants. Mostly it's easy. He wishes to be - tall and resourceful - desirable and potent Lift up the heavy glass. See? He falls in love with himself and you can have him, little Echo, so long as you can bear the weight. But put down the mirror, even for a moment, and someone else may pass with another glass.
X
XI
The world is full of mirrors. Every day more. Lovely deceptions, flawed with light and darkness. In them we see ourselves wise. We see ourselves see. But even this is theory, only theory. Write. Protect. Listen. I give you yourself. Recognition or surprise. Accept or reject. If it is not too late, love is better than hate.
XII
in isolation no rejection death does not reflect
Helena Nelson
If you've any comments or questions about these poems, Helena Nelson would be pleased to hear from you.