Mirror Mirror On Plath’s Wall, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

I am cracked, not exact, I have no completion
Whatever I read, I fracture 
Not as you see, deterred by favor and rejection
I am not perfect, I am broken
Cobweb veins, distort the view
The majority of my focus is on the shower curtain
It is translucent with black stripes, zebra zig zag, the spiderweb makes it

Now I am window fog, a man becomes a blurry Picasso
His hand is touching me with hand towel, to wipe me down
But so delicately as not to cut
Then he leans in to see he is but just an ordinary lot
I report  back his scattered pock marks, jagged sagging jowls
His broken nose from childhood, I have deviated again
He thanks me with a tilted head in disappointment, sobbing
I am his nemesis, he leaves and comes back
Each evening, scooping water to his face to remove the grease
I have angered him as much as to punch me again
My limb falls to the floor looking up at the naked bright white lightbulb
And a graying toothless man bends down eclipsing it
To pick up my sliver

This is my ode poem response to Sylvia Plath’s “Mirror”. It is one of my favorite poems.

https://allpoetry.com/poem/8498499-Mirror-by-Sylvia-Plath

Henry’s Point Of View (By Brain  James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37)

The July day was hot
The mechanics bay was an oven
And the fan as big as it was
Gave  Henry no reprieve
Joe, in his overalls barks orders
Henry shouts back “I DON’T HAVE THE PARTS
And I am backed up, let me skip this one”
Joe, as frustrated as Henry is but does not care
“Just work on the rest of it for now”
Henry slams his wrench down
And it clanks on the floor loud
And shouts “THAT’S IT I QUIT!”
Sheds his name tagged work shirt
Slams it on the floor, storming out
To his beat up Ford pickup
Traffic is snarled
The lights wont cooperate
All Henry could think about
Was all that time and no gratitude
And the wound of his wife
Passing two years prior
Was the gaping wound
Joe exacerbated

Henry storms into the house
But suddenly pauses to see
The picture of his wife
In a happy moment
In the backyard
Her dandelion print dress
White sandals and gay smile
He presses on her stomach
With his thumb
While picking it up
And kisses her face
And gently puts it down

Slumped in despair
The void he cant wash off
And the grease has irritated his face
And that is when he walks
Into the bathroom
To take his rage once again
Out on the mirror.
(end)

Judy’s Mirror, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

Judy tapping foot
Fidgets with her arms
Cross look on her face
Staring at door, angry
That Henry had not come home
“He always does this
Goes out with his
Bowling buddies
Knowing there are things
To fix at home “
She mutters to herself
“The meatloaf is getting cold
The mash potatoes too”
Wrings her fist towards the door

Henry opens the screen door
Ripped from the dog
Jumping on it last week
“Honey I’m home”
A smile quickly wiped away
With her piercing glare
“I told you dinner would be
At 8, and you haven’t
Fixed the screen yet”

“Oh come on
Not that again
“I’ll get to it “
Skeptical Judy responds
“Yea, you keep saying that.
Your dinner is cold”
Trying to distract her
And ignore her frustration
He grabs her love handles
“Looks like you could
Lose a few pounds”
Thinking she would get it
That he was being sarcastic

Suddenly she burst into tears
Henry pleaded “Come on honey
I was only kidding”
Judy through watery eyes
“When was the last time
We went out to diner
When was the last time
We went out dancing?”

“We’ve been through this
Before, Joe is a cheap skate
That bastard would sell
Flat tires to his mother
If he thought it would
Make him a dime”

“Oh yea, but you
You have money
For bowl……?”
Henry talks over her
“That is not fair
I need to relax
He works me
To exhaustion”

“I think you
Are avoiding me”
She puts her face
Into her palm
Facing the floor
“Meh, it’s all
In your head”
Henry dismisses it
Sits down starts cutting
The meatloaf and spoons
Out the mash potatoes
On his plate

“Honey, get me a beer”
She turns away and shouts
“GET IT YOURSELF!”
And the heels of her shoes
Made it clear  she was not happy
Bolting out of the kitchen

The pattern repeated for a month
But she had resigned to the fact
He wasn’t going to change
She loved him
But wasn’t getting
Enough attention

The screen door
Once again
Still torn
Opened up
“Honey I’m home”
” Our team won”
Not interested
In a dismissive voice
“Good for you”
Here is your steak
Potato with sour cream
And your peas”
Weakly placing it
In front of him
He grabs her once again
“You could lose
A few pounds”

The wells in her eyes
Started up again
But no storming out
Just a quiet departure
From the kitchen

She went into
The bathroom
To change into
Her nightgown
But when she
Got into the bedroom
She looked into
The mirror
Her thoughts
Were on the long ago
When she was perky
No crows feet
No love handles

So she consulted the mirror
Like she had done for months
Wondering what
She could do
To make herself attractive
Again

But that only
Made things worse
Every position she held
Turning to see
If the mirror would
Lie to her

Her tears stopped
She was numb
And that was it
She opened
The dresser drawer

In the kitchen
Henry oblivious
Gorging on his meal
Listening to the baseball game
A deafening  BANG!
He dropped his beer
It shattered on the floor 

He rushed to the room
Only to see her feet
And splatter on the mirror.
(end)

So originally I was only going to do an ode poem. But it hit me, why don’t we put a a name to that women in the mirror in the original poem. It is a three part starting with my ode, and two more in reverse order that leads you to the explanation as to why the woman was consulting the mirror so much.