Vanities

Feel your belly button,
where you were attached to
your mother. But
try not to think about
about the night you were conceived.
Whether it was a result of
a hand up a skirt, urgent kisses
and fevered promises
and premature explanations
on your mother’s couch.
(After consultations with
your inner editor,
let’s instead say it was
after a long talk over wine,
Chopin on the stereo,
tender kisses and happy plans.)

What does it matter now? You’re here.
Don’t screw up.
That’s what it comes down to.

Or wind your watch forward
(humor me, you digital ones)
a thousand years.
Was there ever a coffin
built to last the whole trip?
One that was worth the price?
We could ask Tutenkamen, I suppose,
(Who was bad at office politics
and is still dead.)

Beauties

It’s a mad clamor for the door,
Bodies trying to squeeze into a heart that
Divides all who enter.

Vanity – Quartine – August 15, 2014

 

Vanity – Auguste Toulmouche, 1890

 

Life has its odd little swings
Self doubt can bring your world crashing down
Caught in a fish-net of asylum madness
The dust of an inner alley can chill your bones …

Pleiades: Inner Gaze

In greed, we lose liberty
In vanity, we lose ourself
In expectation, we enforce

Vanity Insanity

Eyebrows tweaked,

face all bleached,

lips made red,

the shade you bleed.

Waxy arms,

made smooth to touch,

as if a little hair,

matters that much.

Waist tucked in,

to appear thin,

when having belly fat,

is really no sin.

Victim of Vanity

In the light of diminished ability
I became a victim of my vanity
With the early onset of senility
I have been forced to question my sanity
Doubtful of religion and divinity

Plastic flowers

(via Pinterest.com)

Plastic flowers on the wall

Pinks, blues, yellows

Lovely colours all!

See them stand so proud and tall

In what had seemed to be an eternal spring

It’s in the fall when the pride consumes all

The times, the come and they go