Narcissus by Caravaggio depicts Narcissus gazing at his own reflection. / Public Domain Photo Reproduction
“I wonder if the course of narcissism through the ages would have been any different had Narcissus first peered into a cesspool. He probably did.” Frank O’Hara, Early Writing
It happened yesterday] [or maybe it was tomorrow
the days of narcissism rising when
trust was no longer a badge of honor
but an illusionary tool of demigods, those
surveilling who use identity as a weapon and
some simulacrum of joy as a pawn in the
stake-outs of a tech-pop culture that had lost
all rootedness in the old mythologies, replaced
poets and cats, history’s traditional witnesses,
with social networks, cameras, data collection,
even our cell phones became hostages to
the oligarchs and algorithms, and anyone who
was no one became the unknown known, ultimately
for terror – Maybe! – surely for merchandising
the sanctity of toys, six-pack abs, the manipulation
of values, the merging of religions and mammon
for the common unGood, nursing an underbelly of
spiritual poverty and maybe – Maybe! – we did
get the leadership we deserve, given our own
lack of caution – “I have nothing to hide.” – and
our rampant self-aggrandizement on Facebook,
Twitter and – Yes! – our iBlogs
Narcissism has been around since day one, but it is on rise? Is it more entrenched in culture? If so, how and why? Tell us in your poem/s and …
please submit your poem/s by pasting them into the comments section and not by sharing a link
please submit poems only, no photos, illustrations, essays, stories, or other prose
Poems submitted through email or Facebook will not be published.
IF this is your first time joining us for The Poet by Day, Wednesday Writing Prompt, please send a brief bio and photo to me at thepoetbyday@gmail.com to introduce yourself to the community … and to me :-). These are partnered with your poem/s on first publication.
PLEASE send the bio ONLY if you are with us on this for the first time AND only if you have posted a poem (or a link to one of yours) on theme in the comments section below.
Deadline: Monday, July 29 by 8 pm Pacific Daylight Time. If you are unsure when that would be in your time zone, check The Time Zone Converter.
Anyone may take part Wednesday Writing Prompt, no matter the status of your career: novice, emerging or pro. It’s about exercising the poetic muscle, showcasing your work, and getting to know other poets who might be new to you.
You are welcome – encouraged – to share your poems in a language other than English but please accompany it with a translation into English.
Recent in digital publications:
* Four poems , I Am Not a Silent Poet
* Five by Jamie Dedes, Spirit of Nature, Opa Anthology of Poetry, 2019
* From the Small Beginning, Entropy Magazine (Enclave, #Final Poems)(July 2019) * Over His Morning Coffee, Front Porch Review (July 2019) Upcoming in digital publications:
* The Damask Garden, In a Woman’s Voice (August 2019)
A busy though bed-bound poet, writer, former columnist and the former associate editor of a regional employment newspaper, my work has been featured widely in print and digital publications including: Levure littéraire, Ramingo’s Porch, Vita Brevis Literature, HerStry, Connotation Press,The Bar None Group, Salamander Cove, I Am Not a Silent Poet, Meta/ Phor(e) /Play, Woven Tale Press, The Compass Rose and California Woman. I run The Poet by Day, a curated info hub for poets and writers. I founded The Bardo Group/Beguines, a virtual literary community and publisher of The BeZine of which I am the founding and managing editor. Among others, I’ve been featured on The MethoBlog, on the Plumb Tree’s Wednesday Poet’s Corner, and several times as Second Light Live featured poet.
Email me at thepoetbyday@gmail.com for permissions, reprint rights, or comissions.
“Every pair of eyes facing you has probably experienced something you could not endure.” Lucille Clifton
Rate this:
Thank you for sharing your love of words. Comments will appear after moderation.
Every time she took a step towards him, he took two away
‘stay at a distance’ the silent message cut across flat space
every time she lost grace but ‘Man is Master’ He commands
‘he has been taught to’, not obey nor cooperate nor guide
the new car, first day on road, hit a child, blood on the bonnet
and shirt cuff, then continuously hit other objects till the top
went from cherry to white, ‘I know how to drive,it’s the other
person’s fault’ running across the road without looking,head in air
‘Bring me my mirror’ tell me how best I look at this age too
no feeling of infirmity,I can sing and dance and eat and drink
‘who says I had the quad bypass’ see I can getup without support
and walk a mile and throw the ball and lift the box full to the brim
this is my room, this, my car, this my flower vase, this my cupboard
I always order chicken for my meals, usually with kebabs and ‘naan’
‘bread?it gets stuck in my throat’, and my timings for eating are regular
why, it is my dinner time and you people are having tea at 7.p.m.’ Uh’
the heat behind her head grew stronger, the spell like ‘mantra woke her up
‘he was praying’ ‘go out go out’ a voice warned, ‘I am with my God’ as I wish’
he said pushing the heater closer, ‘God is One and we all pray to Him, He hears
Alas’ man does not,’not listening is the thing that hurts’ not listening with a sneer’
The eyes, his eyes, fill his needs, all day, ‘pull the shirt down a bit
that is better, I like them longer, cover not the head, looks odd-
and so she became deaf and dumb and heartless and blind and thoughtless
drifting into another world of colorful music countless letters words and lines
what are needs ? what is company? Who needs them anyways, who indeed
see the blue sky, watch the birds fly, mind is the place , to walk between the pines.
A wonderful response to this week’s prompt, Jamie. Mine seems a bit juvenile compared to the works here but in true narcissistic fashion – I don’t care! 😂😂 I’ve entitled it
“The Influencer’s Lament”
I click a pic to show the world The cute outfit that shows my abs 10,000 likes and 100 retweets It’s confirmed, I’m just so fab!
I send a tweet to show support For cleaning up the ocean 300 likes – I hit delete – wtf? Not enough commotion
I try again, a sassy tweet No substance behind my stance 100K likes! A Kim K retweet! Going viral – here’s my chance!
I know I’m great – I see my stats And now I’m getting money Yet when I turn the iPhone off My tummy just feels funny
And so I Insta, Tweet and Vlog My soul and body baring 50,000 friends like me, me, me
Yet still, I keep despairing…
I know how the #1 Narcissist operates
His ego we’ve learned to defend and tolerate
Ask for what He wants and He’ll grant it
With the quickness
Ask for what you want and He’ll ignore it
Like it’s bullshit
His Will is vapid and discriminatory
So know that you’re on your own my darling
He gives freely what you must earn
By toiling for nothing
And then He names it “blessing”
As you force yourself to appreciate
Thinking…knowing, “This isn’t for me.”
One-sided, selfish, and jealous
He full well knows that if He always comes first
There will be nothing left
And there will always be
An abrupt ending to your happiness
Before He recognizes all you’ve sacrificed for Him
And His unrealized promises
You will give out completely
Before you have realized your own dreams
Trying to live under the threat of the most righteous smite
Forbidden to, and anyway no energy left
To fight for your personal rights
Always feeling as innocently guilty
And highly undeserving as He says you should be
Yes, this is what you must deal with
As a subject of the #1 Narcissist
So just know that you’re on your own in all this
Precious Princess
Kelly, welcome to Wednesday Writing Prompt. Please don’t forget to send brief third-person bio and a photo to thepoetbyday@gmail.com since this is your first appearance here. Thank you!
I have only one poem about Narcissus, though one could say that all my poetry and all my writing is somewhat narcissistic, although I might try my best to hide it. Here it is:
“Narcissus”
(Raanana, December 7, 2017)
Back in the days when metaphors were taken literally
And myths were news hot off the minstrel’s breast
It was sung that Narcissus was transfixed
By the beauty of his reflection in a pond
And fell in, drowning
But the truth was that he wrote a poem
That drew a tear from the cheek of a young maiden
And was enamored with his reflection in her tear,
Then the skies became grey and bloated, letting go
Their raindrops which poor Narcissus saw his image
In each and every one,
Then he saw himself in every poem he read
(Everyone knows there’s more poems
Than raindrops in the sky)
He went crazy chasing every poem ever written
As well as those are yet to be,
And everyone knows that going crazy
Is far worse than drowning.
(c) Mike Stone
(from my 3rd book of poetry, “Bemused”)
Did you see Bodhizar’s (bogpan). I rather agree. Also seem to remember that Sylvia Plath wrote that all her writer friends were narcissists but she liked them anyway. I don’t think we are narcissists to the degree that politicians are though, but maybe that’s a conceit.
Got my Prada
Got my Gucci
Got drama like Susan Lucci
I’m a TMZ All Star
Killin’ the Game
So check my follower count –
‘Cause everyone knows my name
And y’all, I’ll do anything
If it gets me noticed
Got those tabloid scandals
Like my name was POTUS
And I really don’t care
‘Bout no kids at the border
Trophy wife like Bugatti y’all
I had to import her
Now I wear her on my arm
Like a gold Rolex
‘Til she gets a little older
Then it’s “thank you, next!”
Just like DJ Khaled
All I do is win
And y’all actin’ so offended
But you keep tunin’ in
‘Cause this is Hadleyburg
Everybody knows it
All it took were some pieces
Of gold to expose it
So keep my name trendin’
Y’all, give it a boost
But don’t act so surprised
That I’ve come home to roost
This is great. This is fantastic.
A distance up the beach
There are us
Shouting in the waves, ‘me-me’
And I feel someone grab my hand
Narcissism rising, a poem want to swim,
Then how could I stop loving you? YEAH
I don’t want you to think I am imagining a world without you.
there was no fanfare,
no procession, no proclamation,
as i hit the button, no exclaimation
as i changed my life. as if no one
noticed, and if i am right, they
probably didn’t.
didn’t see as i drove the valley,
didn’t protest, or speak in tongues,
did not see the little things.
by 
Jamie Dedes' THE POET BY DAY Webzine 
Nice article! Thanks for sharing.
LikeLike
Every time she took a step towards him, he took two away
‘stay at a distance’ the silent message cut across flat space
every time she lost grace but ‘Man is Master’ He commands
‘he has been taught to’, not obey nor cooperate nor guide
the new car, first day on road, hit a child, blood on the bonnet
and shirt cuff, then continuously hit other objects till the top
went from cherry to white, ‘I know how to drive,it’s the other
person’s fault’ running across the road without looking,head in air
‘Bring me my mirror’ tell me how best I look at this age too
no feeling of infirmity,I can sing and dance and eat and drink
‘who says I had the quad bypass’ see I can getup without support
and walk a mile and throw the ball and lift the box full to the brim
this is my room, this, my car, this my flower vase, this my cupboard
I always order chicken for my meals, usually with kebabs and ‘naan’
‘bread?it gets stuck in my throat’, and my timings for eating are regular
why, it is my dinner time and you people are having tea at 7.p.m.’ Uh’
the heat behind her head grew stronger, the spell like ‘mantra woke her up
‘he was praying’ ‘go out go out’ a voice warned, ‘I am with my God’ as I wish’
he said pushing the heater closer, ‘God is One and we all pray to Him, He hears
Alas’ man does not,’not listening is the thing that hurts’ not listening with a sneer’
The eyes, his eyes, fill his needs, all day, ‘pull the shirt down a bit
that is better, I like them longer, cover not the head, looks odd-
and so she became deaf and dumb and heartless and blind and thoughtless
drifting into another world of colorful music countless letters words and lines
what are needs ? what is company? Who needs them anyways, who indeed
see the blue sky, watch the birds fly, mind is the place , to walk between the pines.
LikeLiked by 1 person
😢💛💛
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Jamie,
Here’s my seventh response:
Soil Is A Mirror
we plant our needs in
we can see ourselves
in its grains
as it feeds the want
of our mouths
we admire ourselves
in its smooth curves
the way it flatters
our aging shapes
smooths wrinkles
as we tumble
on its glassy surface
shafts of light pierce
its dark skin
and we see ourselves
as shadows that play
upon grains of sand
fused into mystery.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Hi Jamie,
Here’s my sixth response:
Are Complete
We had our time to be made
whole, and perhaps thought we were
only part of what we could be,
find an image of what we could be,
and ignore the scary one that looks
back from the mirror because
it is all we don’t want to see,
so drape a silk scarf, or cardboard
over it, make it a partial likeness.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Jamie,
Here’s my fifth response:
Her Tongue
licks
an unbroken red apple.
She rubs it on her inner thigh
till it gleams into a mirror.
Inspects her reflection
in the apple mirror.
Hungry she breaks the mirror
with her teeth. Sweetness
In her mouth makes her smile.
Her reflection is not poisonous.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Hi Jamie,
Here’s my fourth submission:
Must Be Shiny (A World Where 2)
This apple, your skin.
This car, this screen.
See yourself in them.
All buffed into mirrors.
These windows. This door.
Folk wear sunglasses always.
Brightness means brand new.
Eyes must sparkle.
Coffins burnished. Wars
between levels of bright.
Highly polished means highly skilled,
means sharp as glass, witty as stainless.
Born bright, live bright, die bright.
Gloom is dullness is ignorant.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A wonderful response to this week’s prompt, Jamie. Mine seems a bit juvenile compared to the works here but in true narcissistic fashion – I don’t care! 😂😂 I’ve entitled it
“The Influencer’s Lament”
I click a pic to show the world The cute outfit that shows my abs 10,000 likes and 100 retweets It’s confirmed, I’m just so fab!
I send a tweet to show support For cleaning up the ocean 300 likes – I hit delete – wtf? Not enough commotion
I try again, a sassy tweet No substance behind my stance 100K likes! A Kim K retweet! Going viral – here’s my chance!
I know I’m great – I see my stats And now I’m getting money Yet when I turn the iPhone off My tummy just feels funny
And so I Insta, Tweet and Vlog My soul and body baring 50,000 friends like me, me, me
Yet still, I keep despairing…
LikeLiked by 1 person
👍♥️
LikeLiked by 1 person
a topic everyone is expert on about someone else!
Thoughtful-less
In my garden there is a reflection pool
surrounded by narcissus
I spend admiring time there
contemplating the me in us.
I do want to know your thoughts
about me and what I think
and if you’re hungry or thirsty
and if you’d make for me a drink
What are your plans for the future
before you answer, here are mine
I hope you don’t mind I canceled
the reservations at that new place to dine
I knew there’d be distraction
you wouldn’t focus on yours truly
and what’s the use of spending the money
when we could stay home and be unruly
You’re such a trooper to understand
and always put me first
which of course is where I belong
otherwise it would a curse
to live with someone thinking less of himself
pretending humility
remember there’s no I in us
and also no YOU in ME.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The #1 Narcissist
I know how the #1 Narcissist operates
His ego we’ve learned to defend and tolerate
Ask for what He wants and He’ll grant it
With the quickness
Ask for what you want and He’ll ignore it
Like it’s bullshit
His Will is vapid and discriminatory
So know that you’re on your own my darling
He gives freely what you must earn
By toiling for nothing
And then He names it “blessing”
As you force yourself to appreciate
Thinking…knowing, “This isn’t for me.”
One-sided, selfish, and jealous
He full well knows that if He always comes first
There will be nothing left
And there will always be
An abrupt ending to your happiness
Before He recognizes all you’ve sacrificed for Him
And His unrealized promises
You will give out completely
Before you have realized your own dreams
Trying to live under the threat of the most righteous smite
Forbidden to, and anyway no energy left
To fight for your personal rights
Always feeling as innocently guilty
And highly undeserving as He says you should be
Yes, this is what you must deal with
As a subject of the #1 Narcissist
So just know that you’re on your own in all this
Precious Princess
© Kelly Miller
From my third book of poetry, “The Riddle and the Dedication II”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Kelly, welcome to Wednesday Writing Prompt. Please don’t forget to send brief third-person bio and a photo to thepoetbyday@gmail.com since this is your first appearance here. Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I sent a bio (but it was in first person) and a photo. Shall I send another bio, in third person?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Jamie,
I have only one poem about Narcissus, though one could say that all my poetry and all my writing is somewhat narcissistic, although I might try my best to hide it. Here it is:
“Narcissus”
(Raanana, December 7, 2017)
Back in the days when metaphors were taken literally
And myths were news hot off the minstrel’s breast
It was sung that Narcissus was transfixed
By the beauty of his reflection in a pond
And fell in, drowning
But the truth was that he wrote a poem
That drew a tear from the cheek of a young maiden
And was enamored with his reflection in her tear,
Then the skies became grey and bloated, letting go
Their raindrops which poor Narcissus saw his image
In each and every one,
Then he saw himself in every poem he read
(Everyone knows there’s more poems
Than raindrops in the sky)
He went crazy chasing every poem ever written
As well as those are yet to be,
And everyone knows that going crazy
Is far worse than drowning.
(c) Mike Stone
(from my 3rd book of poetry, “Bemused”)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Did you see Bodhizar’s (bogpan). I rather agree. Also seem to remember that Sylvia Plath wrote that all her writer friends were narcissists but she liked them anyway. I don’t think we are narcissists to the degree that politicians are though, but maybe that’s a conceit.
LikeLiked by 2 people
🙂
LikeLike
The New Narcissus
Got my Prada
Got my Gucci
Got drama like Susan Lucci
I’m a TMZ All Star
Killin’ the Game
So check my follower count –
‘Cause everyone knows my name
And y’all, I’ll do anything
If it gets me noticed
Got those tabloid scandals
Like my name was POTUS
And I really don’t care
‘Bout no kids at the border
Trophy wife like Bugatti y’all
I had to import her
Now I wear her on my arm
Like a gold Rolex
‘Til she gets a little older
Then it’s “thank you, next!”
Just like DJ Khaled
All I do is win
And y’all actin’ so offended
But you keep tunin’ in
‘Cause this is Hadleyburg
Everybody knows it
All it took were some pieces
Of gold to expose it
So keep my name trendin’
Y’all, give it a boost
But don’t act so surprised
That I’ve come home to roost
LikeLiked by 3 people
Excellent poem! It could be the alternate lyrics of the lead song of the rock musical “Hair”. That’s a compliment, incidentally. 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
🙂 Thank you, Mike!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much 🙂 Rado and Ragni created a cultural landmark in Hair, so I definitely take it as a compliment!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Yes it is. 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
I appreciate when people read and comment on the work of the other poets. 👍👍👍👍👏👏👏👏
LikeLiked by 2 people
Shaun Jax – love the rhythm in your piece and all the cultural references! This was superb!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks so much!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Hi Jamie,
Here’s my third response:
I Borrow
distortions. I want to look
like her or him, so I can be
her or him. I buy their perfume,
their makeup to look a million dollars.
I want to be distorted into them.
Only by doing this can I be true
to myself, and who I am. Plastic
surgery would make me feel better.
I could be younger, fresher more vibrant.
Adverts tell me this, because I’m not.
Adverts tell you how to distort yourself
into who you are. Are you with me?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Jamie,
Here’s my second response:
Our Insanity
is healthy. Hurt others,
hurt yourself. Hospitals
widen wounds. Firemen
are firestarters. Doctors
avidly spread disease.
Dementia is encouraged.
Helpfulness and reasoned action
is criminal. Thought for others
will get you referred to a psychiatrist.
Multiple personality is encouraged.
Not knowing who you are is wellbeing.
Celebrate murder, envy, greed, selfishness.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Jamie,
Here’s my first response:
Frame It
in high definition people take photos,
paint pictures of emptiness.
Ensure the image is pin sharp,
Every detail of blank space captured.
Many pixelled selfie. A landscape
without land. A panorama of stillness.
It has the highest click rate online,
a million likes and shares.
People wish to buy it, blow it up
for their walls, print the image on mugs.
It becomes a meme, an emoji.
Nothing is celebrated.
Frame It (A World Where 2)
in high definition people take photos,
paint pictures of emptiness.
Ensure the image is pin sharp,
Every detail of blank space captured.
Many pixelled selfie. A landscape
without land. A panorama of stillness.
It has the highest click rate online,
a million likes and shares.
People wish to buy it, blow it up
for their walls, print the image on mugs.
It becomes a meme, an emoji.
Nothing is celebrated.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is great. This is fantastic.
A distance up the beach
There are us
Shouting in the waves, ‘me-me’
And I feel someone grab my hand
Narcissism rising, a poem want to swim,
Then how could I stop loving you? YEAH
I don’t want you to think I am imagining a world without you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
. type of love .
was hoping to garden yesterday, clear the ground,
it was a challenge, with all that rain. so we
mended things, with love and string.
it is a challenge, 52 , to even think and google
meanings.
many types, immeasurable, not three nor for all
of us. yet those of us who do, may trust blindly,
childishly love our toys, cherish home, hold
memory.
i looked up, that does not mean i love you.
narcissus.
LikeLiked by 2 people
. letter to a friend . eight .
it has been a while since we spoke.
even now, you will not receive this letter,
along with others not sent.
some went away to exhibition, while others remain in my head.
it is the rule, no contact. today is cooler, we change the clocks soon.
i suppose you are nearly retired, yet i have lost track.
even so, i reflect on what i have done, i ask, what have i done?
it lingers in the past with no judgement here, they are good friends.
we may ask what have you done, yet it does not matter now.
all things pass.
i shall occasionally write, and never send.
no contact.
narcissus.
LikeLiked by 2 people
~ winter food ~
there was no fanfare,
no procession, no proclamation,
as i hit the button, no exclaimation
as i changed my life. as if no one
noticed, and if i am right, they
probably didn’t.
didn’t see as i drove the valley,
didn’t protest, or speak in tongues,
did not see the little things.
we bought winter food.
narcissus.
sbm.
LikeLiked by 1 person
13.1.
did you notice the different weaves,
the names, the celtic not. have you
heard the language, problems arising,
too long spent driving. two of them
work well, one is new paper
that will not ash the flame.
will you remember them, narcussus,
small people who suffer?
i will send their photograph.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Poets are always a little narcissistic, dear. Only the “green lizards” that crawl in a cesspool are left from mythology. Bravo!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes! We are indeed,Bodhizar. .
LikeLiked by 1 person
thanks Jamie
LikeLike