Thursday, April 19, 2007

A Crack In The Mirror Comments

Rating: 3.8
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Where are you hiding me?
That face is not the one I recall.
It’s not the me I seem to be.


Ben Gieske
Christine Kerr 27 July 2009
Love the new idea of Mirror, Mirror on the wall. Your last day of public school gives you your first taste of life little changes. Well Done
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Bob Gibson 22 July 2009
The crack on the left side, shows the days of your youth the right side, well lets face it, its telling you the truth! great poem Ben i enjoyed it
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Lighthearted, frank, and quite humorous. When we wish mirrors would lie, it's the truth that cracks it. 10+
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Saadat Tahir 29 May 2009
hi way ticket shot..then to rot (poe stuff? ?) well a well lived life of principle is its own redemption...great lines sets u thinking and musing its atenner cheers
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Kesav Easwaran 28 December 2008
A 'cracker' poem...nice images you build through your cracked mirror, Ben...10
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Reshma Ramesh 05 November 2008
haha! ! nice piece of writing there sir.....well done
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Ashraful Musaddeq 23 October 2008
Lucid and touchy poem. Last four lines are more beautiful. A nice job is done, bravo. 10 is added with pleasure.
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Ershad Mazumder 10 September 2008
This is really a very good poetic piece.
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Twiggy Tubercio 29 May 2008
nostalgia seems to be apparent to me.... but maybe I'm wrong
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Con Nie 27 February 2008
Good poem about aging. On a lighter note I have my favorite middle age joke I heard once that said, 'You know you are in middle age when you don't mind it when the bathroom mirror fogs up.' Anyway, as the cliche goes you are as young as you feel. Anyway, your poem got me to thinking about these things. A ten for you. Sincerely, Connie Webb
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Ivor Hogg 14 February 2008
Mirrors do lie Ben When I shaveeach morning I see my father looking back at me
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Robert Howard 31 January 2008
Love it - especially the final stanza. You got good mileage out out of the 'crack' metaphor.
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Marc Mannheimer 15 December 2007
Great. A light touch is great with that which pains. My friend from high school told me after the first time I ached for a woman in years, 'Hope you enjoy it! ' And you know, because this woman was and still is a good friend (I asked her out on Thanksgiving and she said no) , the pain is like nectar - love.
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Tom J. Mariani 15 December 2007
Yes. After 55 you start getting discounts offered where you eat to lure you out of your house. While you're enjoying your early-bird meal, someone is in your house replacing all the mirrors. I was excited getting ready for my 40th reunion, except some old guy kept stnading in front of me in my 'relaced' bathroom mirror. I was remembering the teenager who used to park his motorcycle a close as he could to the front door of the Friday night dances for all to see; not the guy who now needs to use a blue placard hanging from his rear view mirror to park close. Tom
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Jemarie Ragudo 15 December 2007
A mirror is a friend who tells the truth and doesn't mind taking the blame for the ravages done by gravity. I love the humor. And the style.
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Alison Cassidy 08 September 2007
This one reminds me of my dear old mum (aged in her late 80s) looking in the mirror and saying 'How hideous I look now! And yet I feel just the same inside.' Love the light touch you have used for this piece. Makes it all the more poignant (and recognizable) somehow. love, Allie xxxx
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Jim Valero 01 August 2007
Though this poem expresses concern over aging, I find the tone light, humorous, ironic and, though he 'fears' his memory is 'cracking too, ' there seems to be acceptance of change. Good write!
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wow, such emotion. memories fading and mirrors cracking, i always write precious memories down so i won't 4get.
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Elysabeth Faslund 07 July 2007
Memories don't actually crack like a mirror. But with a stout hammer, that mirror, so despised, can bite the silvered dust. Solution? Memorize the mirror, then let the memory crack. Good, good write. Time will shatter that mirror, if you let it.xxElysabeth
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Dorothy- A. Holmes 21 June 2007
Hello again! When my brother picked me up from the airport he said he saw our mother's face and knew it was me...What a compliment! She truly was beautiful! Your poem gets a 10 from me. Dorothy
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