Tag Archives: vanity

Narcissism

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A narcissist?
That isn’t a nice thing to say
to one who is perfect in every way.
I don’t wish to sound vain,
but the truth is quite plain;
I’m top of the A list,
on everyone’s play list.
There’s no-one can match my magnetic attraction,
my beauty’s undimmed by dark and refraction,
even my mirror’s in love with me.
Why, if I could find someone as winsome as I,
I’d wed them today and whisk them away,
but no matter how hard I try,
this sweet face is all I can see –
I can love no-one but me.

.

Written for The Daily Post Word Prompt: Narcissism

©Jane Paterson Basil

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Vanity

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I can’t believe I spent so long on this…

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I hope you won’t think
that I’m fishing for pity, or some reassurance;
I could not bear the idea of that,
but a burning issue is seeking attention,
and it’s worth a mention,
so this is the thing, you see;
I just no longer like being me.

I hate to confess the breadth of my reasons,
and I can’t blame the troubles that came my way,
or the way my life has generally been,
so nobody else is to blame;
it’s only because I am me.

I will put it succinctly:
I no longer
respect myself.
So I will be brave
and straight to the point,
as I stand here before you…
stripped to the hips.

Does my bum look  pretty,
is it pert and flirty?
Do you think it is priceless
or simply  blown out and flabby and big?

It wasn’t a bad poem to start with, but I had to make all sorts of changes to force it into the shape of a woman’s body. Sometimes, wrecking a poem can be time-consuming and gruelling work…

©Jane Paterson Basil

Painted Nails

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Bridal magazines

flutter

between ravening fingers.

Painted nails

scrape silk and lace.

Smiling sequined brides shine

beside spruce grooms.

Images describe bright colour schemes;

ribbons and roses

twisted into cunning, pink posies

pick out the chosen hues of the theme.

Six months to go,

and she’s eager to be

the apex of attention, and the envy of friends —

yet each time she sees her swain,

she swallows a sorry slug of doubt,

as, deep down, she knows

the  magnetic attraction

was born in the beat

and heated blood of a nightclub,

now passion has flown

and she’s empty of  love.

.

©Jane Paterson Basil