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I walked into a mirrored box
and there and there and there I was
images entrapped without locks
reflections bouncing without pause.

Images stacked up to eternity
every one an exact duplicate
each one a copy of just me
as if from an old template.

But what of the spaces in between
all those reflections in the glass;
might they hold something there unseen
where the waves of photons pass?

Each of those immeasurable spaces
between each ephemeral me
woven into the innumerable places
might they be a different reality
where age doesn't reveal wrinkled faces?

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


An interesting idea for a poem
Heres my problem with it Its so lite it doesnt take me anywhere
Like a weak twilight zone This is a poem of the surreal

it ends: might they be a different reality
where age doesn't reveal wrinkled faces?

Its just my opinion so forgive the brute honesty but you haven't made me care
With all the shit that goes on with being human, the constant stress, disappointments, distortions , life death loneliness or just the challenge of remaining sane in this world,wrinkled faces appears so vacant

The language is weak to me so it has little torque musicality aesthetics


of ecstatic dust
and ashes whirl
from hallucinatory citadels
of shattered glass
into evacuate craters

“Nocturnal cyclops”
“Crystal concubine”

I find the language in this example entertaining and enticing to my ear like a great strategy of chromes or melodic's ie the theater of language
I think its about ones willingness to work hard To have standards and be willing to suffer if need be to make it zing

Best Z

I'm aware this one lacks depth. But i just jotted it down late at night. It would take a much longer rewrite to really cover the idea of spaces between reflections in a single pane of glass. I might attempt it at a later date. I DO appreciate your blunt honesty.....stan

author comment

as all these years
you have been


Feeling neglected? I've been dealing with a bit of depression lately and haven't been much good to anybody

author comment

No where to go
no poetry to show
nothing does glow
so depression is
free for elderly
like me
but why you
young man

A few personal reversals have me a bit down at the moment. Happened before and will likely happen again. I'll just keep trying to write my way out of it lol

author comment
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