She Wears It Like A Mask by Ron Carnell
She wears it like a mask
Each time she comes to me,
A shroud to cloud my eyes,
A veil I cannot see.
But her mask is just a ruse,
An aspect of her game.
It hides the girl behind
The fiction of her name.
That name is but a symbol
Of the role she plays for me,
A promise unfulfilled,
A hope of what could be.
Removing all between us,
Clothed only in her name,
Her touch is my illusion,
Setting heart and loin aflame.
A mirage within a dream,
A ghost of fragile youth,
She is fantasy. And fire.
And beauty born of truth.
Her name is but a name,
A symbol, just a mask -
Concealing what I see,
Revealing what I ask.
Each time she comes to me,
A shroud to cloud my eyes,
A veil I cannot see.
But her mask is just a ruse,
An aspect of her game.
It hides the girl behind
The fiction of her name.
That name is but a symbol
Of the role she plays for me,
A promise unfulfilled,
A hope of what could be.
Removing all between us,
Clothed only in her name,
Her touch is my illusion,
Setting heart and loin aflame.
A mirage within a dream,
A ghost of fragile youth,
She is fantasy. And fire.
And beauty born of truth.
Her name is but a name,
A symbol, just a mask -
Concealing what I see,
Revealing what I ask.
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Rating: N/A |
Celeste was, for lack of a better term, a stripper. It was how she made her living, and how she lived her life. I met her at a local bar when a bunch of buddies gathered to celebrate one of our number's imminent marriage. She and I talked, away from the crowds, and when she discovered I was a photographer, well, one thing led to another...
Celeste wasn't her real name. It was her stage name, a common thing in her line of work. It protected her, but for me, it also added the fascination of a mystery. This poem was the result of my fascination.
Oh, and incidentally, I knew Celeste for eight months before she finally revealed her real name to me.
Celeste wasn't her real name. It was her stage name, a common thing in her line of work. It protected her, but for me, it also added the fascination of a mystery. This poem was the result of my fascination.
Oh, and incidentally, I knew Celeste for eight months before she finally revealed her real name to me.
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Beautiful, absolutely beautiful. That's all I know how to describe this poem. ;) Keep up the good work! - Casey |
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This, believe or not, touched my heart, and made me think of myself. The hiding behind something, the only letting someone see certain things. I may have looked to deep into the poem, not sure, but it did touch me deeply. - Desiree |
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this poem is awsome - bob |
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An excellent piece of writing that i could clearly understand and relate to. - Bronagh |
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What a wonderful poem - Thank you for sharing it with us. - Mari |
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i liked this poem because it had some meaning to it. it never wandered off leaving me feeling lost and confused. cool poem. the only thing i would have done different would probably be the name of this one. but good work anyway. - asia |
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very nice I really enjoyed reading this - Stacy |
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I love this poem.the mask we all wear in life. - Giraffe |
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Ron, No mere words, can tell you how your poem has touched Me.. In peace, Marquese'a - Marquese'a |
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She Wears a Mask is a very fine poem of fascination and intregue. The masks we wear make the world but a stage and we but the players. But what do we play and when can we be laid bare and unmasked and still be loved. - Lane |
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Ron had Celeste, I had Mirage. The poem made me feel as if they were one in the same and brought back some sweet and bueatiful memories. The simplicity of words used and the imagery blend to make this a powerfull poem to all who have shared a similar experience,and allow others to experience the same. - Philip |
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I like the ending! It was cleverly and creatively done :-) - Ian |
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It's a great poem, one I can really relate to... - Samuel |
