Empty Mirror

Beauty’s time

Spent,

A crooked mirror

Going down

An empty hall.

 

Putrid remembrance,

Bled away

From the

Original portraiture

In cacophonous delirium…

Rebels

Propane anger,

Diamonds on a

Furious turn.

 

Night mists

Fluctuating,

Split nerves

Multiplying

Along glittering

Streets.

 

Rebel roses,

Grave shadows

Overturned

To shifting

Movie frames.

 

Pieces of the

Dream land

Undone,

Swallowed

By poisonous

Fumes beckoning

The seekers

To entangle with.

Throwback Thursday

Here’s to looking back at 2011, when I wrote for a lifestyle/beauty/fashion blog called Lip Gloss Culture based out of NYC.  I had just graduated from Mills College and it was a great first gig.  My Mom Susan Karr, an accomplished writer and editor (Word Suite), showed me the magical Wayback Machine site where I could find prior articles I’d had published.  Here are some beauty posts:

The Benefits of Aromatherapy with Rosewood Oil

Best Facial Masks

Happy Thursday!

Lip Gloss Culture Logo

Face

Face of blue,

Coarse thorn

Behind.

 

Lonely

Nothing,

Dripped to

Depression.

 

Mean world

Chugging along,

Pretty things

Torn away.

 

Smoked up

In folly,

Fool’s mirror

To show

A vampire’s

Face.

 

Tracked down

And split,

Sod covered

Over

Wooden

Death

Embankment.

 

Carried along

To

Blackened

Bliss,

Moon shine

A reflector

Upon

What love

Had lain

Down.