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Pieces of My Reflection, by JustasPoetic
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The words literally jump off the page and into your heart and mind; nostalgia at its best. Each poem takes you to a place frequently visited in the mind and reality, as it embodies just what the heart and soul hungers for. Taking you on a journey that is melancholy and reflective, the mood is set from start to finish. Pieces of My Reflection is a contemporary composition of poetry that gives you a glimpse into the thoughts of JustasPoetic and a preview of what’s to come for this modern day writer. If you follow closely, there is a story written of love that withholds an empathetic heart; plus the rage that exists towards the naysayers of the world, who never believed. The author carefully, but aggressively, introduces the inner voice that longs for the reality of fantasy and dreams, yet finds contentment and happiness in the roller coaster of emotions that exist in this journey called life.
- Sales Rank: #3282336 in eBooks
- Published on: 2016-01-07
- Released on: 2016-01-07
- Format: Kindle eBook
Most helpful customer reviews
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The real, the imagined, the good, the bad, the euphoric, the painful - no area of relationships is left un touched here!
By David Russell
Pieces of My Reflections
“The author carefully, but aggressively, introduces the inner voice that longs for the reality of fantasy and dreams, yet finds contentment and happiness in the roller coaster of emotions that exist in this journey called life.”
Here is a panorama of emotion and experience, ranging from ideals of pure, eternal love, through a touching celebration of grandparental conjugal fidelity, through to real-life unfulfilled desires and transitory encounters, sometimes involving abuse, facing the bonding of pleasure and pain. Ideals are buffeted and abraded by experience; but somehow they prove their resilience, and help with the building-up of defence mechanisms. I find the title to be totally appropriate in that it reflects the process of fragmentation involved in real-life experience.
‘Peak experience’ euphoria in real life has a transcendental quality, carries its participants into the world of dream, fantasy and myth. In real life, this level of intensity cannot be sustained. Emotions level out onto a plateau; pain, and the realization of human flaws, take their part.
In the opener, I Don’t Know Love, the poet assumes the identity of the spirit of love, utterly penetrating the mind of her partner: “I am what you feel”.
She ascends to lofty heights, but is brought back down by her partner not calling her on the phone. In Invisible, she is overwhelmed by the power of an ideal partner: “Your armour of comfort has conquered my body as if it were a small country.” She feels to the full the quandary of such a powerful confrontation: she is powerless, but needs strength; she is reminded of love, but needs to forget. She can seem to live up to her own expectations of herself because her partner is invisible. In My Dreams describes an encounter perfect because it was confined to the dream realm. In the process of this sublime fantasy, she projects herself into her ideal partner’s mind: “I become his journal and allow him to fill my pages with his innermost secrets, leaving pieces of himself.” Here Kimberly does some subtle role reversal re her own activity as a writer, which she discusses in depth later in the collection. She celebrates her ability to close her eyes and summon up a dream world, in which there is a loving partner. In Once Upon a Memory, she refers to ‘dreams that tell stories/that create memories’; she seems to be blessed with the good fortune to be able to replay her dreams. Yesterday probes deeper into the dream/imagination ethos. She feels a sense of vulnerability – ‘an endangered species/I am exposed to extinction’. Yesterday was the time of an idyllic tryst; today she has to live with ‘yesterday’s non-existence, but ‘remembering yesterday means being with you/conjours desire into reality’ once again the power of replay!
As I Cry is a true lament for lost love, having to face the ‘immortality of loneliness. She feels she is lover personified, but also makes silent cries to love – to her self-alter ego or to another individual – perhaps a confidant rather than her partner – but whoever it might be, she is deeply distressed at lack of response.
The Morning After Forever: Kimberly has written several poems on the ‘morning after’ theme. This involves being brought down to bleak, solitary reality after a night’s euphoria, the term ‘forever’ suggesting a dream eternity of perfect love. The night’s euphoria may have been purely imaginary, as she refers to ‘something you never had’. But whether the experience was tactile/real or purely imaginary, it still exerts incredible power over the psyche. “If you grasp the essence of eternity, you know the essence of love”. One can grasp the essence of eternity through solitary meditation. Sweet Temptation – a real life lover has been and gone, touchingly leaving a rose on his pillow. There is real pain and dream/memory pleasure: “I experience the pain of your absence/and indulge in the sweet temptation of you – in my mind, in my dreams, in my heart. Winter is a metaphor for lost love ‘with its cold, bitter arms . . . leaving scars’.
Shadow Chaser – supplication to an ideal lover: “Allow me to be the cause for a smile across your face . . . don’t hide in the shade . . . I am your shadow chaser.” I Find Myself reflects on a past encounter, and expectations of the partner’s return. In her reflections, she remembers their times together. Paradoxically, a passing encounter can feel like ‘loving you/for all eternity . . . I lose myself in you.’ Distant Lovers – the happy couple were wrenched apart by adverse circumstances. They will probably not meet again. She is ‘unaware of how to reconstruct what we never finished’. She decides that they must learn to love each other at a distance.
Gypsy Eyes – a sense of the lover’s magnetism, and the desire to suspend time. The reader is left wondering whether she wants to be the gypsy’s image of her. I Slept in the Dark – “I reminisce, so that I won’t forget”. In My Heart’s Mirage, she attempts to negotiate the boundaries of being and not being, and has to be fully expressive of her inner contradictions: “I have become distracted by the desire to have instead of content with not having what I desire . . . I have become blinded by what I see, instead of seeing that it has not appeared.” Was she blinded by one significant spectacle, say the sight of a lover. If there had been no apparition, her eyesight would have remained intact, but what she could see may well be meaningless. Then there is the dualism of “I move closer but continue to gaze into the distance”. The image finally proves to be illusory.
When Love Calls – the two faces of love: the thunderstorm and the calm. Guilty Conscience – “The pain of losing you caused me to remember/that what mattered the most was the words unspoken” – perhaps the most sublime parts of the tryst were non-verbal, and there could be an affinity between that unspoken love and the silence of separation. Seclusion – “it is in seclusion that I find me”. The ultimate self-fulfilment/self-knowledge can be reached alone, including solitary reflection on a past bonding. In Mistaken Identity, she acknowledges that she could seem unattainable to a lover – what his body lusts for but his mind cannot handle. Let Me Paint You a Picture – a picture of the elusive, going through the colour spectrum, culminating in mysterious footprints in the sand and buried treasure.
Stained Glass Window conveys a sense of time-travel and time-transcendence: ‘the artwork of our past/the imagery of our futures’. I Built My Truth on Your Lies – sometimes a really bad, destructive relationship can motivate its sufferer to build up inner strength. This poem takes at its premise the wreckage, and rubble, and the possible futility of attempted reconstruction of the relationship – ‘diligently piecing together a work of art/That has lost its beauty’.
My Tears Cried Tears – any relationship can have elements of role reversal, as each individual has masculine and feminine characteristics: “The Queen of the Day and the Prince of the Night traded places.” The consummation of love can be its annihilation, its immortalisation, its consignment to the realm of spirit and imagination: “The two intermingled; their collision symbolising the pain of losing both, consummating the end of love.” The lover seems to have some god-like quality: “The piercing gaze caused me to look outside of myself.”
Final Confessions makes a recap on her earlier poems.
One Word
This section explores pain and guilt. “I drape myself with resentment/To hide the blemishes”. Insomnia is personified as ‘a malignant goddess’, Amnesia as a protectress. Scattered touches on the leitmotif of fragmentation: “Pieces of myself remain in the hands of those/With whom I shared a part of myself”. Four Walls is a catalogue of desolation. Caught Slipping is quite self-recriminatory about carelessness, giving oneself away in a relationship: “I forgot to keep my inner secrets . . . I forgot to put my clothes on in the morning/ Now he knows I’m slipping.” Mind you; there is some justification; he had, after all, taken her on a journey to happiness, into clouds of pure ecstasy. Midnight Magic – love can ‘surpass the imaginable, and be an antidote to past wounds; she found ecstasy behind the ‘clouds of pain’. I really like the idea of being able to descend from heaven and take its fragrance down to earth, and consider that aroma to be an ever-consoling ‘keepsake’. She revisits the scene of the rhapsodic encounter, to find it ‘perfectly preserved, like I never left’. But she accepts the possibility of someone else, so decides she must not stay too long, must not leave evidence. Obviously she has regard and respect for the ‘other woman’. Anonymous #1 admits that an intense encounter can be agonising and ecstatic; is there an affinity between agony and extasy? The Morning After Forever (Part II) unflinchingly faces anti-climax – ‘like a grief-stricken hangover’. “I could no longer hear the noise of my past. I heard the noise of my future. There is exquisite scope for speculation in this poem: the sense of pain is incontrovertible. But does the subsequent uplift relate to the same partner, or to a new one, to whom she could relate better through what she had learned from his predecessor? “I didn’t see our lives/Cross paths/And greet each other/Just the distance/travelled co contentment/And inner strength.” Was the ex a long-term benefactor of the mind, guiding her to inner strength and contentment through pain? To whom did she answer the phone with her heart?
I Wish expresses the pain of loss; contradiction rules again; her feelings are ‘clear yet opaque’. Her heart aches for his physical presence, but she must read his words instead. But in the end she says “I wish I didn’t feel your pain”. Is there an empathetic sense that his is the greater pain. Love’s Residue centers on anger and resentment, which seeps from her pores. She uses the image of four walls, which were a protective shelter; they disappear, then reappear with the reverse function – that of insulation and exclusion. At first they kept the key factor in; now they keep it out. Erase Me is a desperate plea to be forgotten to a dead relationship; she felt she had become a figment of his imagination, and yearned to be removed therefrom. Eyes Wide Shut suggests a sort of power struggle between the two parties, as to who has the greater solitary resilience: “You can’t see me fading/But I can clearly/With eyes wide shut.”
Destiny’s Curse seems to depict something which did not happen. “Destiny happened/Not ours. There was a chance meeting, which radiated depth potential, but nothing happened: “Did it scare us from us?” Did the intervention of free-will destroy a potential relationship? There is ‘perfection (only) in something fleeting . . . “Destiny cursed us to a life of memory. Your Mirror – with subdued lighting, a mirror can present an idealised image, with all blemishes and imperfections obscured; this is in some ways comparable to a dream image in the mind. In His Sleep – she imagines her partner asleep, the state of sleep being a possible paradise of freedom and peace, and somewhere where one realises ones love yearnings. Disappearing Acts – back down to the solitary state again: “Forever has come to claim us, and we must surrender”.
Proceed with Caution
While you were Out – there is a ‘third party’ who must (with deep regret) be dismissed when the second party returns. Anonymous #2 – speculative telepathy: “I hope he’s not thinking/What I’m thinking”. My Little Secret – a glimpse of her lover’s lips mushrooms into a beautiful reverie; she aches for him to read her mind. Hands on My Thighs – beauty is indeed in the eyes of the beholder, and the sensations of the one beheld. It radiates from within; she has no envy for glamour models.
To You explores a Sapphic relationship which developed between two rivals for a man. They have a furtive relationship when the man is asleep. The other woman is malignant but incredibly attractive: “Your poison it fuels me . . . I loved too strong/You were summoned by my joy . . . and now you want to be bad.” In Don’t Call Me Romeo the author assumes a male persona; this persona is not an ideal, but a real, flawed human being.
Pool Hall Sistah – Gambling games of all kinds make good imagery for volatile relationships. This is for You is a straightforward plea to present a positive, smiling interface to the world. Compromise – the tortuous path of the development of self-knowledge: “Being me is a sacrifice I have to make to be the person I have become” (to sustain the identity of the person I have become?). This sacrifice involves intense pain, which makes her wonder about its absence in eternity/forever . . .? When It Hurts – words of consolation, with a bit of solace in ‘allow time to heal your wounds’.
A God-Made Love and My Sentiment of You celebrate the long term devotion and durability of Kimberly’s Grandparents; her grandfather, particularly, gave her a solid foundation for her adult life; she quotes I Corinthians Ch 13. Losing Royalty is a strong feminist poem, lamenting the degradation of women, the loss of their Queens and Priestesses, and their cowering before men.
Why I Write
In this section, Kimberly discusses the role of writing in her life. It is very integral, vitally complementing direct experience. Freedom’s Train – verbalisation certainly facilitates reverie. A Poet’s Love Letter – she refers to ‘encrypting messages/Not to be decoded/But to feed my soul. Verbalisation can generate its own reality: “Just by your words I speak through you/Relaying inner secrets/You are my confidant/And I don’t have to tell you/I love you. 3-Sum – artistic activity can be a true lover: ‘me, my pen and my canvas having an orgasm’. Finally, in Loud Pen, she personifies herself as a writing tool: “I can when needed be quite an intellectual, but I prefer silence. She finds that ‘sarcasm is a second language’ . . . “When I can’t utter a sound, he screams/And we make loud noises together.”
Pieces of My Reflections is almost a philosophical work, raising profound questions about the boundaries between the actual and the hypothetical, the imagined, the remembered, the extrapolated, the idealised. It embraces a whole gamut of emotion, from the conjugally durable, to the most fleeting transitory encounters and flashing ‘might-have-beens’. A profound and laudable effort indeed.
David Russell
0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Nice flow, real emotion!!
By Poet's Eyes
BOOK REVIEW: Pieces of My Reflection, by JustasPoetic
Discussions of love which were not seen through rose-tinted lenses; there was always pain included. These poems had a certain flow although they were mostly free verse. They moved with a fluid charm that floated you in and allowed you to feel the journey of love gone astray and the crash landing of loneliness that ensues once you love someone and lose someone. I have to admit that it took me a poem or three to get into the words, as jaded as I am on the topic of love. But these were, for me, realistically communicated allowing you to feel the ecstasy of love, when it’s good and the vacuum of loss depicted in the words. In the poem "I Wish" the author somewhat wrapped up how I felt at times, in life, as I was reading.
I wish for numbness
A ceasing of this ever-growing
Ache I have for you
Crystal-clear yet opaque
I can’t understand
Why I utter your name
When my lips part
Caught up in your web…
It goes on to describe the wish for revenge on some level by stating without hesitation:
I wish I could put my hand
In the wound
And cause your body to shutter
In agony…karma
But in the end, she embraces the pain that she feels and the pain expressed by the words she read from her lover as if she felt their pain as well. Or was it the pain elicited by the words of goodbye written and left behind for her to read? I also enjoyed reading, among other poems, "The Last Time" which explores her memory of the Thursday that she had last spoken to the perpetrator of her grief. She recalls it was a Thursday because of the mixed emotions she experienced as a result of that phone call, as she thinks back on it. But more importantly, she remembers it was a Thursday because on that day her transformation was complete.
…It was a Thursday
I remember
It was the last time
I answered the phone
With my heart
I could go on from there with the imagery evoked by the words written; but instead I’ll let you read the book.
0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
An Amazing Book of Poetry
By Amazon Customer
This is an amazing book of poetry. When I first received it, I instantly fell in love with the cover. After reading the first poem, I couldn't put it down. It was an adventure of a lifetime. Great Job!!!!!!!!!!!
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