Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Sight

Around my eyes:
projections
of baby blue
and paper dolls,
delicate, slight, dainty.
These illusions
are thinner
than a single strand
of my plain blonde hair,
but your head is too thick
to see through.
Inside these eyes
are worlds of insight,
slow-shifting tectonic control,
infernos of primal rage,
seas of compassion.
Strength, reason, frustration fuel
a silent continuous juggling of words,
searching for a way to share
all I see.
You see flat black dots
that punctuate the blue
where shadows hide
the tint of flesh and blood.

5 Comments:

Blogger Mindy said...

Hi, I just wanted to say I'm really enjoying your poetry. I think school turned me off poetry and so I've avoided it whenever possible, but very occasionally I will find a poet who I'll actually read more than one poem. I haven't read too many of yours but Hammock View in particular made me smile and I've been reading some of the others during my lunch hour. :)

8:52 PM  
Blogger hueblur said...

There are none so blind as those who choose not to see.

2:40 AM  
Blogger Mr. Bloggerific Himself said...

Let’s hope the “dots and flesh” person had more just be a case of functional fixedness and was the optometrist.

http://yourpackagingsucks.blogspot.com/2005/01/fiery-balls-burnin-or-for-last-time-i.html

(Ouch, my eyes.)

6:43 AM  
Blogger TwistedNoggin said...

The poem wasn't about a specific person, though. I feel this way about 99% of humanity around me. At least, I'm treated this way by 99% of the people around me.

8:51 AM  
Blogger Mr. Bloggerific Himself said...

Oh I know, I was just being stooopid trying to lighten the lonely impression I got. I need to post more of my "stuff" stuff. You make me wanna.

9:15 AM  

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