O Darken Mirror on the Wall

“O darken mirror on the wall, who is the most deceitful of them all: a black smoke rose up from Nietzsche’s coffin; an odour that lingers upon the earth abroad. All who breathe it are disillusioned, and claim to be their own god.”

In the image above we see an aspect of our human nature; a perspective largely formed through the cauldron of Christianity. Some are probably repulsed by the emotion it stirs within, not to mention the denial that immediately veils our intellect at the thought of identifying with such a monster. How convenient though, to project our shadow upon a public figure, rather than acknowledge our own duplicity. Then again ‘convenient’ may not be as fitting a term as would let’s say contradictory or conflicting. The poem to follow may help to illustrate this struggle. In particular it will highlight an event from my childhood of a religious picture that deeply disturbed me. On the contrary this piece of art was probably meant to give the contemplator some peace of mind, or to serve as a reminder to act piously, but in my case it yanked me out of my wits.

My fear of the dark was overwhelming as a child. The night filled my mind with foreboding. Irrational thought coloured appalling scenarios, which set my imagination adrift without anchor. Madness covered the horizon with a purple haze, and all of life became distant and out of touch. From this churning womb a poet emerged both sensitive and awkward. He speaks to you now through mystery…

That strange picture of a boy staring into my eyes
Oh poignant demon who art in shadow and disguise

My body still as a corpse concealing its clammy trepidation
While layers of silence press heavy upon my agitation

The object of my fear hung upon the wall 6 feet away from view
Of a solitary child poised upon one knee in prayerful déjà vu

Lips fixed as marble stone yearning to spit upon my face
Except for an imagination that has no boundaries to trace

No one hears such anguish, a ghost tethered with an artist’s brush
My soul seeks to blur every stroke into an unintelligible mush

Hellish creature upon my wall, your memory ceases not its call
Unrelenting madness stealing my shallow breath with a hiss

My mirror twin – binding me to sin, in the name – of a godless shame
Our threads never to come undone for we are one and the same

It too is made in my image from the dusty ground of some demiurge
Who battles with me night and day until water shall make us purge

About Philosopher Muse

An explorer of volition and soul, a song under a night sky and a dream that forever yearns to be.
This entry was posted in Poetry, Psychology and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to O Darken Mirror on the Wall

  1. Wonderfully executed! A true marriage of word and image as you enter the pregnant darkness of meeting one’s fascinating and terrible shadow self. Love the gripping title! Warm winter blessings, Deborah.

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