Best Binoculars Poems
"Frosted"
A penny for your thoughts?
Scratch that thought.
Thoughts are worth more than pennies
Thoughts are legions of brilliant glistening diamonds
shining dormant undiscovered in a deep deep dark cave
veins in the walls of The Catacombs blood art fuses lit
burn and sizzle bright like gunpowder travelling from the Throne of Amygdala
to the Kingdom of the Pounding Scarlet Brave
beats in time with intent and purpose
when the music ceases -
TRUTH
seen very clear
as through untainted glass
binoculars not necessary here, my dear
Windows of your soul unfrosted
Will see lost love at last
Pennies on your eyelids
mirrors covered with vintage grey
army surplus blankets
trapped in the ashes
dust to dust
open the curtains, move outwards every pain
let the Light and fresh air in
You're alive again.
Ain't that strange?
(Lovejoy-Burton/Feb 2018)
You look through the windows of my poetry
Deep into the bedroom of my heart
you watch me undress
button by button
It slowly slips down
You adjust the focus
of those binoculars on your screen
reading my poetry
seeing my naked soul
you watch
for free
at a distance
at a safe distance
You watch me dance
In your mesmerized trance
You watch me smile
and all the while
You watch
You see the tears
you see the shadow of fears
streaking my face
leaving a trace
you watch
day in
day out
night time
wondering if I'm alone
if anybody else is home
if my bed is warm
if you see another form
there with me
you NEED to see
I feel your eyes
looking in through my poetry window
Voyeur
you're just a voyeur
living my life vicariously
without touching me
it's your destiny
you look for safety
a distance you keep from me
I know you're there
I relish your stare
I know you want to
walk through that door
looking for something more
but your too afraid
of the inconvenience
of my moods
my happy swings
my sorrowful stings
You're a voyeur
You watch me for free
but one day
I'll close the shutters
blocking my words
withering your soul
as you wither mine
it's fine
Voyeurism is just...
just a waste of time
I want to flesh and blood with you
it's true
But voyeurism
is all you know how to do
One day
Your "watching days"
They will all be through
Another will watch AND caress
will help me undress
and kiss and will bless
all that and more
for the one
who walks through the door
and dances with me
and sets demons free
Voyeurism
doesn't cut it
with me!
Eileen
twas the night before christmas
i was alone in the house
off in the bedroom
unbuttoning my blouse
while drawing the curtains
i heard a big thud
peered out the window
to see santa donned in mud
without hesitation i threw on my robe
rushed across the floor
then missed every step
as i ran for the door
outside on the lawn, there he just laid
binoculars still hung on my tree
it appears that old santa
had been watching me
i'm not sure if he was sleeping
or out for the count
but christmas couldn't be canceled
not on my account
so i ran to the rooftop
and jumped in his sleigh
in hopes that i could somehow
save christmas day
with the reindeer still laughing
and i in my robe
we flew off in the darkness
and circled the globe
so if you thought you saw santa
adorned in hot pink
just know that it was i
and not what you think
November 28, 2019
Ten mile peninsula in Queens, N.Y.,
nighttime jetties of moonlight white caps,
waves rising and ebbing.
My grandfather walking with me on the
daylight shore so many summers ago.
My dreams of Rockaway unfaded.
Watched the WTC twin towers being built
through binoculars.
Rockaway, in my soul's nostalgia
you still beckon.
Salted lips quenched by Coca-Cola.
The youth within me can still hear
the seagulls calling in the breeze,
and still see the amusement park
under 4th of July fireworks.
Dada, I miss you and Rockaway.
I am a Burn’s Night baby
(named after the Ayrshire bard)
So we’re off to hunt a haggis
locating one is extremely hard
We scour the hills of Scotland
and have dull and rainy weather
There’s not a haggis to be seen …
they’re all hiding in the heather!
All of a sudden we spot a rare haggis
So hubby fires his gun into the gorse
The haggis scurries into the undergrowth
Hubby missed the wee beastie of course!
We spend hours out there on the hills
All the little haggis are all lying low
I scour the land with my binoculars
But not a hair of one is on show
The sky is getting really dark
we are tired and soaked to the skin
so we descend the slopes to the village
we see a butchers, and swiftly walk in
Hundreds of haggis are on display
With gaping mouth I stare in surprise
Their orange hair is so beautiful
I cannot believe my own eyes
I tell him we’ve been on a haggis hunt
And he glowers at me in shock and alarm
says the one’s on the hills are protected
He gets his stock from a breeding farm
I choose a wee haggis from the shop
When it’s baked we both have a slice
Haggis is a Scottish delicacy
I’ve got to say it tastes 'offally'* nice!
* Haggis, the national dish of Scotland, composed of the liver, heart, and lungs of a sheep minced and mixed with beef or mutton suet and oatmeal and seasoned with onion, cayenne pepper, and other spices. The mixture is packed into a sheep's stomach and boiled. Information sourced from google.
01/24/18
I've never been one to nosey but
Looking through my net curtains
I just happened to have a pair of binoculars in my hand
I'm a curious kinda man
Ooh you wouldn't believe the things I've seen
Not being a gossip of course
It's so posh around here the mail is personally
Delivered by the Queen
And across my vast sprawling country estate
Someone's skinny dipping in my lake
I think I'll choose a masserati today
And wave at the peasants on my way.
There goes Dietrich on her penny farthing
Listening to some Hank Marvin
Toqyen is drunk again
Casarah is walking her lama
Tim has just worked out at the gym
And Jan is looking nice and Trim
Peter and Vera
are in the garden
Singing Shakira
Poet destroyer is cutting the grass
Ooh she has a lovely fast
Mower that lass.
There goes Mary Jo on her pogo stick
She doesn't look too well hope she's not sick
Over there prince Harry is having a party again
A fancy dress
And he's dressed as hen
Well folks Think I'll get in my hot tub full of champagne
And wait until tomorrow
When I can spy again.
Peter Dome. copyright. 2014. Sept.
Boots
in the closet;
I wait for them to walk
so I can follow.
Wallet
in my drawer;
he needs his license, money,
not a lot,
t-shirt,
pair of pants,
running shoes,
his watch,
binoculars,
field guide,
floppy hat.
I won’t forget.
I’m ready, boots;
lead me;
it’s not too late;
it’s not.
©Kathryn Collins
June 14, 2007
The wind is crisp when clouds cover the
sun, what passes for warm when clouds
disappear.
Great oak trees, maple and elm, in full
bare-branched display, before the bud.
Red norway pine, just outside my window,
enrobed in rich, cinnamon bark,
still smiles with long green needles,
bristling with resin-dipped cones.
A great fascination I pursue, binoculars in
tow, discovering many-generational
squirrel nests, high in the trees; twigs,
paper refuse, any and all acquired detritus,
salvaged to create beautiful sanctuaries, to
call home-
I'm
Truly
Envious
04/26/14
© All Rights Reserved
I looked at my community, and everything was ruined.
I thought, "It's a conspiracy; it's someone else's doing."
Day by day, I blamed the world---angry and frustrated:
The "Man"; the cops; "society"... THEY were the ones who hated.
Everybody said the same, so that's what I believed;
but gradually it dawned on me that I might be deceived...
I watched the young men stealing; I watched the gangsters killing;
I watched the girls soliciting; I watched the dealers dealing;
I watched the children fighting; I listened to them swearing;
I watched my neighbors trash the streets---and sneer at me for caring.
The more I watched and listened, the more things became clearer:
"We've been looking through binoculars instead of in the mirror.
"Outside of our community, the world is getting on:
Folks of many colors and cultures get along.
What's separating us and them is not conspiracy
but fundamental differences in how we choose to be.
"If we could just be HONEST about how we really are
and work to CHANGE what isn't right in our OWN minds and hearts---
our behaviors and our values, the people we esteem---
we could end this nightmare and start to live the dream."
And after I had pondered and come to this conclusion,
I stepped into reality---and out of my delusion.
Smoke swirled and billowed from your lips
Like gossamer it extended itself like a ballerina arching in hopes of caressing mine
The crickets raised together their bows in consideration
The summer sun nodded quickly to proceed
The waves tickled our lanky set of alabaster knees
The dock groaned beneath us but I am anchored
Steadfast in this life
I see our life through kaleidoscope binoculars
Such cheery coloured spectacles and distortions
I want to ride on this merry-go-round with you
But it appears my pocket watch keeps spinning because
Time is relentless
I want to capture our laughter in mason jars!
Your fervour makes me feverish when you consume and devour!
Cloaked by nightfall and nimbus clouds
Within the recesses of my mind my anxiety is patiently awaiting moments to commit heinous robbery
This parasite creeps into my subconscious and whispers down my lonely hallways
It makes itself comfortable by weighing heavily on my shoulders! The entire body shudders from its hideousness
It’s toxic venom runs through my veins
Holding my memories ransom and masticating any feelings of safety
Writhing and wailing to dominate and keep me still
Never willing to compromise or to remain ill
Navigating through the muddy waters of my mind
Following the metronome of your breath demarcating our way home
I remember when birds were just plain birds,
and ducks were the birds that swam in the lake.
Binoculars were tools for seeing ballet;
heavy, clumsy, hard to control focus.
Once taught to listen for the call, cheep, bzzt,
and search in the direction for motion
I never went back to being blind, lost
to flutters, fannies, eye rings, and beaks.
Color important as well as tree limbs.
Flight patterns, wing shapes, up and down
were a nuance to food, romance, and love
because you loved the sight and shape, song,
and ever elusive arrival friend
somewhere, mountain, jungle, graveyard or beach
someplace new to join together on hunt
to wipe out work time thoughts and hidden pain
and love the world we live in for each bird
through the short days of our lives on the wing.
How many are realities? Is a question,
How many one actually wants? Is option?
Monism, like single-focus telescope, stands firm,
While dualism, like binoculars, less confirm...!
I who see the flower observe the bee as well,
That, like unidentified guest, within it dwell;
I focus on flower, yet, bee I don't ignore,
Bee and bloom are harmonious; in union soar...!
Absolute is one; from that utmost have all come,
Flies, bees, birds, animals, reptiles - those speak or dumb;
Existing in any habitat they do preach,
Of the truth, to which, these all ultimately reach...!
Multiplicity must give way to simplicity,
Souls-convergence should erase all complexity;
My body and soul are in me; I am in them;
If one has no life in it, won't thing turn mayhem...?
Universe is a gadget that gladly partakes,
The great principle of Brahma, who makes and breaks;
To diminish every divisibility,
And bring in indissoluble pure unity...!
Advaita - body-mind one - beings become whole,
Parmatma in atma dwells as a cosmic soul;
Can one remove blood from flesh or heat from fire?
Each in each one; all in all; Agape grows higher...!
10 August 2022
Non-dual awareness Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
Loving Grandparents
I've seen more faces of parental love
As a child I heard folk lore from grandma
Often I lay calm in her elbow's cove
Night pressed her feet swollen with oedema
And in the noon we would hide in a room
With a binoculars to watch the birds
Collecting twigs for nesting babes in womb
Grandma was fun and all requests were heard
Grandpa moved around with his wailking stick
We took care of him on his pious bed
Didn't know he was dying thought him sick
In the middle of night goodbye he said
We hugged and cried at our world that collapsed.
New homes we were flown to, our ties just snapped
FOURTH
October 29, 2015
Contest: In The Name Of Love
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Flesh on show and sun tan lotion
bodies laid on towels or sun lounges
By the ocean
Salty air wind blown hair
Music streaming from the near by fair
Baby screaming nappies full
Cool guys looking for babes on the pull
Sun shades and floppy hats
Grown men playing cricket with ball and bats
Sand castles and buckets and spades
Candy floss and lemonade
Father With binoculars pretending to look out to sea
Or read a newspaper but really looking at the bathing beauties
Bikinis and manknies G strings tight where the sun don't shine
Hot dogs and hamburgers the popping of corks from bottles of wine
Hairy legs and wrinkled skin
child almost drowning couldn't swim
Muscle bound Life guards with muscles to impress
Granma lost her false teeth
Dropped between her breasts
Ice creams and summer dreams
Young child peeing in the sea
Among the swimmers splashing about with glee
People playing beach ball and football
Mother calls come on all it's time for tea
Large Busty woman running like jelly on a plate
Wobble wobble
And nearly starting an earthquake
Sand between your toes
Sun burn on your nose
Sweaty arm pits sweaty bums
Toffee apples and bleeding gums
Sea gulls flying screeching high above
Clear blue sky pure white dove
Watching the frothy waves stretch upon the shore
Watching the horizon and tiny boats 10 miles away or more
Dogs running here and there
Sweets being passed around to share
Crabs and shrimps and other critters in a rocky pool
Children with fishing nets and jars to take them back to school
Para gliders pulled by speed boats high in the sky
Oh why do people want to risk life
As they could die
Postcards to write people on there bikes
The smell of fish and chips
Children with jam around their lips
Couples walking hand in hand barefoot on warm sand
Treasured memories and photo's to cherish
Suitcases packed feeling unwound and relaxed
Can't wait until next year when they come back.
Peter Dome.copyright.2013. July.
Murmuration the bird watchers shout
Time to look up and scan about
What you will see will amaze your eyes
Looks like a moving cloud of unbelievable size
It’s Starlings flying as one as in a hunt
Open your eyes but mouth firmly shut
They aren’t too careful where they let things go
But the rhythmical flock will put on a great show
The opening of the Starling Royal Ballet
Is about to show its face upon sky’s stage
Binoculars ready for the spectacle of a lifetime
You can oooh and ahhh at this special showtime
They fly towards you all grouped together
Dividing just in time in unison as one feather
They swirl and sway like dancers on ice
They pirouette like lovers entwined, to entice
Why does this bird who is so graceful a delight
Attack other birds, continually wanting to fight
Their plumage is shiny but its mind is so mean
Fight to grow up, as a fighting machine.
As you watch them you can forgive them most things
Wonder why they fly like this, but they can’t sing
Their voices aren’t good, so they can’t steal the show
They need a poor blue tit, to sing for them now
I can watch this happening time after time
They never disappoint me, never just in a line
The mass of birds will stay fixed in my head
Amazed isn’t the right word use flabbergasted instead
Seren Roberts dated 7 February 2013