Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2017 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   258255 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry


Read Poetry
Fragile Shell Of Morning

Joy Restored

Love A Cat

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

The Crow Is A Songbird

Upwards Into The Swirling Sea Of White.

July's Message

And With Words I Let Them Go

When He Returns From The Road

Flashes, Glimpses, Moments, Time

the brand of disappointment

Some Will

What If

A Little Bit of Harlem in Your Life

Please Don't Bring Me Flowers

No Woman's Friend

A Man Called Tsuris

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

Sometimes I Hear Him

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

Sometimes Love Comes With Electricity

I Long For Stars

Every Time I Listen To the Wind.

Some People

She Is My Friend

Beware The Sign of Sagittarius

Need You (note of encouragement to self)

why not ask the cat?

The Un-Promised Land

I Travel Every Time I Think Of You

Poem Untitled, But, If Not For You

If I Were Your Island....

More Poetry >>


  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook


No Woman's Friend

a mirror
I've heard
is no woman's friend
especially not in a small room where there's
much room for comparing

comparing is a poor habit
one that one ought never begin
and soon becomes apparent
is a necessity to break

the whole world compares
and often come up wanting
to be more
men mostly do this

comparing is the progenitor of
all competition
it creates pandemics of ugliness:
envy, bullying, disputes, wars

women reluctantly enter this parlor game
and when they do
fully aware of its complications
and pitfalls

its a game of cards
where guile and deceit reign
in torrents
and errors

some seem to be winners
while others don't quite have the cards
some never show their hand
keeping them hidden

there's no need to bluff
I'm who I am
and mirrors reflect what the seer sees
there's always some distortion
inner love,
outer vanity

the mirror isn't a woman's friend
when she leaves it up to others
and plays at the parlor game of comparison

these are not games
about who we are

its better to just breathe
and let live

breaking the mirror
might bring you luck,

unending bliss

(in truth
Alice was no great friend of mirrors
she was, in fact
disposed only
to make good use of them...
dear Alice,
clever girl...)

legal copyright for this work/poem
June 19 2017 eleven fifty-six am PST
and also for this writer Melissa A Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted site title
Meloo straight from her Tilt-a-World

Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem


 Email Address


Vote for this poem