Mirror to My Soul by Heather Mirassou
A personal blog sharing heartfelt poetry inspired by nature, beauty, and soulful reflection.
-
-
Smoke curls over shattered walls,the sky bruised in shades ofsorrow,yet beneath the rubble,a flower presses through stone,tiny and defiant.Gunfire writes its harsh rhythm,shattering windows and hearts alike,but in quiet corners,laughter spills like warm tea,soft as unbroken promises.Soldiers march with boots ofthunder,and children trace chalk rivers oncracked streets,their songs ripple acrosstrenches,a fragile bridge over moltenhatred.War rages…
-
Pain opens doors I never builtStairs fold, ceiling dropsBones hum in MorseThirty years, drippingTime leaks like marrowSilence gnawsJoints scream their coordinatesFog curls my throatNerves twist into knotsSkin whispers treasonMuscles clutch shadowsDoctors pass,Feathers of languageFlutter, uselessManage cope chronic -Words swallowed by boneNight folds itself inside meCountsEach breath a ledgerMercy absentPain grins through ribsI wakeI am fracturedScattered…
-
I stretch my legs like rubber bands,then flop sideways without a plan.My whiskers twitch at empty air,my tail flicks twice, then swats a chair.I pounce on shadows no one sees,my paws land soft, but sometimes sneeze.Ears rotate like satellite dishes,nose sniffs crumbs, then hasty wishes.I knead the couch, then bite my paws,stare at walls in…
-
The night exhales along the breathing shore,tide loosening its silvered seams.Salt rocks remember older namesthan those we give to longing.This sea that bares her bosom to the moonholds nothing back.Light drifts across her skinin slow devotion,a hush taught only by distance.Stars hover, while clouds learn restraint.I stand emptied by the listening dark,heart tuned to the…
-
We are born reachinghands empty but alreadyshapedlike questions.We learn the weight of timeby losing what we love -first toys, then peoplethen versions of ourselves.Hunger drives us forward:for touch, for meaningfor proofthat this brief spark matters.We build names, stories,nations, gods,trying to steady the groundbeneath us.We hurt each otherby accident or on purpose,and spend our lives learningthe…
-
Under foxfur dusk, ponds sealshut with glass,lungs of soil exhale frost andiron sleep.We hibernate, embers cuppedin ash and silence throughwintered veins.Listening for sap, for bones,for snow-drifted hours,slow heated dark inside earth.
-
The Tule fog has stayed too long.It presses against the windowslike a thought that won’t finish.Days blur into the same gray breath.Cold settles in my bones.Even light feels tired,arriving late, leaving early,as if it too is discouraged.I walk through hours half-seen,wrapped in layers of waiting.The world feels muted,like sound swallowed by wool.What am I to…
-
Choose one of these three artworks and let it take you wherever it wants. Write whatever it stirs in you — a memory, a question, a scene, a poem. All images are open-use selections from the National Gallery of Art website. They lean against the angle of the street,bodies balancing where the buildingsbend like tired backs…
-
Loving you is like pressing my earto the hollow of your wrist,as if the rhythm therecould teach me how to breath.Your lips on mine are like a secretI’ve always known,as if every pause and sighwas written into my bones.Being in your arms is like sinking into a roomonly for us,only our heartbeats.Your touch lingers like…
-
Love is a dim motel signflickering vacancy/no vacancy,never quite telling the truth.It’s a locked briefcasewith your name etched insidethe code changes every timeyou think you’ve cracked it.Love is a subway mapwith one forbidden line,the route you take anywaybecause it hums like fate.It’s a pair of borrowed keysthat fit doors you didn’t knowwanted to open.Love is…
-
My body sends a push notificationbefore my brain can catch up,a sudden spike,heart glitching like bad code.Something’s off.The air encrypted,the room buffering inslow frames,corners pixelatingas if reality.I check my breath,thin, throttled,running in the backgroundwithout permission.A tremorclimbs my spine,a quiet vibration,like unseen messagestyping itself into my nerves.instinct kicks in,primal software,older than logic,shouting movewithout explaining why.And that’s…
-
The granite and schists of my dark and stubborn countryloomed ahead like a grumpy old giant, arms crossed and refusing to budge. I had packed only a backpack, a dubious map, and an overinflated sense of bravery. Rocksjutted like teeth, trails twisted like pretzels, and everysquirrel seemed to judge my clumsy feet. Somewhere agoat -…
-
-
Some mornings I wake in a world stitched shut.Sound sealed, behind a frosted window.Other days, a thin crack opens slightly.It’s just enough for a murmur of living to slip in.It sneaks in like, a timid animal.I read people’s lips the way others read the weather.The slight curve of a vowel,the storm-glint of a consonant.Mouths flicker…
-
Some days silence seals me tight, a locked-glass world, a vanished night.Other days, sound threads its waythrough thin cracks, of half-lit days. I read your lips – each curve, each flare,a cloud mouth shaping fragile air.Your words bloom open, soft and slow;I catch the ones that choose to grow. But behind me waits the quiet…
-
Zero is a shutter of untouched light,a polished loop that holds the breath of all beginnings.It waits like an unclaimed PIN code, humming with invisible charge.Framing the crisp threshold where possibility gathersbefore stepping into form from quiet core to nothing.
-
This week’s challenge is to write a piece of “musical poetry” inspired by an instrumental guitar track. Listen to “Canción Triste” by Jesse Cook from the album Vertigo: If you can’t listen to this track, choose any instrumental piece (with no lyrics) you like — preferably one featuring guitar — and mention the piece you chose in your post.…
-
She tells me in whispersthe secrets I want to know.She shows by examplethe way I want to care for others.She rests peacefully in waysI wish to be still.She breaths in the air of lifeas do I, with great passion.She has become timelessand never far.
-
Our love is like the flow of Water and gravity.
-
We are glowing togetherA smile that lasts day and nightWhether separate or apartThe heart crack is wide openWe are at the centerExploring the edges of loveI am hereYou are nearLove is grand with youMy graceYour strengthWill carry us today and tomorrowLove unfolding naturallyAcceptance draws us nearUnconditional love fulfills usA love story is being writtenOur future…
-
A poem written for a lovely woman who passed away yesterday. She lives in our heart and soul. She is loved by many and her memory will be carried on for many years to come. I celebrate her as a dear friend and like a mother.
-
1967 hums like a vinyl worn groove,a year stitched in paisley, drifting into it’s move,tie-dye dreams blooming wild in summer heat,sandals slapping freedom down every sun-washed street.It smells of sage smoke spiraling into the sky,a caravaning wanderers learning how to fly;guitars ringing truths no textbooks ever knew,voiced braided together in a rainbow heaven.1967 is a…
-
The hills breath amber whispers through the day,as drifting leaves rhythms play;the maples hang their lanterns low and sway,then hush the light at dusk collects its grey.A river mirrors skies molten gold,its ripples slow, obedient and cold;each stone reveals a tale the currents told,each reed leans in like monks serene and old.The wind becomes a…
-
Well I am too LATE to submit for the prompt. But, here is my Quatrain, 12 line poem. I roll across the floor without a command,I catch what drifts, accept what lands.I move when pushed, I stay when still,I gather weight without a will.I spin through corners, rest in light,I shrink and grow without delight.No…
-
She knelt where night and dawn entwinesthe water cold, the air like wine.The lake lay still, a breathing glass,where souls of old and shadows pass.Her face appeared, yet not her own,a younger ghost, in silver tone.The girl, she began to rise,with moonlight burning in her eyes.”Why do you call me from the deep?”the spirit asked,…
-
First came pudding -a pale and wobblingplastic spoon.He called her sweetheart,his voice all sugar and orderlies.The air was lemon and bleach,so clean it hurt.She tried to thank him,but the words caught -a wing in her throat.He said, let me help you sleep.The lights dimmed,and the walls leaned closer,listening.Inside her chest,a river began to drown itself.Trust-white-silk-pulled…
-
I am wakefulwhen clouds arenesting and the windis thrusting.Stars twinklingin painted fieldsA moon overflowedand the rain beginsto rouse.I rise in a dreamwhere my spirit soarsI faintly kissthe stream.
-
Mother Nature beckonsHer brilliant cacophony.Her pine treesDancing, swaying, and whispering.Their virescent greenShimmering throughBlue HuesPeaceful and calm.MesmerizingHer birds singA sweet melody.White puffy cloudsSurroundedBeams of sunshineBenevolent to me.Immersed inHer enchanting beautyShe is bewitchingShe is my company.
-
The author reflects on a lifelong struggle with sorrow, feeling unable to awaken their heart to joy. This deep sense of isolation is emphasized by the idea that all their love has been solitary, highlighting a profound connection to both sadness and loneliness from childhood.
-
Her breasts translucentHer nipples erectHer hips wide and curvyThey smell of lifeHer lips searchingHe stiffensHis mustache debonairShe chases him as they sit togetherHis lips voluptuousThey know where to goHis eyes mesmerizingShowing strengthPalm to palmWaiting for her to feelHer heart wide openShe opens to releaseWhat he is asking forThey pour togetherShe catches himShe sings a love…
-
Nearly naked exceptA dangling Marlboro cigaretteExpertly stroking his loverFingers caress a slender bodyMethodically engulfing aromaThe sweet smell of sexSwollen lips surroundWaves of rapture quiverEyelashes and eyeballs flutterSinking into oblivionHead bobbing like a pendulumSavoring his lustInhaling smoke languidlySucking every last toxin
-
Like peach blossoms As lovely as daffodils In the purest hope of spring My heart-strings follow each strum of a harp Your voice a hypnotic melody. I leap like a cricket At the whisper of your name The evening floats On a great parrot wing. I am comforted With you by my side I hold…
-
A sprinkling morrow Drinking from the trees Earth is cooling As the sun is shady A noble mood The simple quiet Of daydreams
-
Leave the mundane and familiar. Let your mind, body, and soul invigorate you. Leave a watermark or tattoo.
-
We are like a pendulum that is counting the minutes until me meet again. We are like sunbursts finding the sundial that tells us when we meet again. Time is a thief to us. Though our love is timeless. The moment becomes our future. We gather in tandem to be close again. Ever widening our…
-
The author reflects on personal liberation by shedding past traumas and shame. They express a transformation from confinement to freedom, asserting their individuality and strength. Emphasizing resilience, they embrace an invigorating journey toward self-discovery, symbolized by an empty backpack filled only with courage and hope for the future.
Mirror to My Soul by Heather Mirassou 