Guest Author - Wollie Woehler

I have two physical sides: One known by myself and the other known by others. This poem was inspired by a compliment I received last Friday when someone remarked on how well red suits me. Once again I realized to what extent my appearance is determined by what other people tell me and not necessarily by own choice. Having no real idea of what colors look like, I choose
Clothes and other things according to texture, pattern and appeal to my touch.

I doubt if I will ever win a prize for poetry, but to express myself like this is pure therapy.
Why don’t you follow me and send your own poems to lighten-up other people’s day or to encourage them to think?


Two Pictures of Myself

My fingers say my hair is short,
Others tell me it is grey.
O, how I wish my mirror could show me too
What irritates or impresses you?

My fingers touch my forehead,
Quickly passing over frown wrinkles
Both sides of my mouth, up and below
I find the familiar creases of time, lips, chin and nose.

The form of my eyes my fingers reveal
The laughter wrinkles to fine for my fingers to feel.
Brow and eye lashes are still there,
Have they changed color?
O, who am I to care.

Other people enjoy the brightness of my smile,
Life’s mirror is turned away from my eyes
As my face reveals my soul
And hides it from my touch
But nothing can ever stop
My unblissful me.

Make-up I can easily apply,
The well-known landscape of my face
Responds to tender fingers, brush and stick.
Again my mirror remains lip-tied,
Repetition guarantee success,
And I know I look my best.

My hands know the curves of my body
But my mirror on the wall
Keeps my image- to itself,
Does not show it to me at all!
The harmony between me and my clothes
I can easily feel
But to my eyes its compliments
The mirror does not reveal.

One part of me I know,
The other is for other’s eyes,
The way I walk, sit or stand
I can check it with my hand.
The other me which you can see
Remains a stranger to me.