Best Glasses Poems
Uncomplicated me
I thought I was colour blind
free thinking and kind
with an evolved mind
Loving and accepting
of the ones I find
Yet my blindness
Is that of privilege
I'm just a visitor
in the Global village
From my narrow thin mind
there is too much spillage
Although so many
are forced from their homes
My life seems carefree
I am deaf to the groans
Brown women wearing veils
that can't protect them from stones
I live in a white washed place
No "Freedom Marches"
for men of a different race
Yet, if I look back and trace
there are darker stories to face
We all took part in shameful things
Yes, we share in the disgrace.
Highways of tears
Rivers of shame
There's always
someone else to blame
Residential schools
Each child got a new name
They were forced to forget
the place from where they came
Prisons filled
with black and red skinned men
They can't forget
this now or that then
Promises and promises
but who how and when
Or will their children
have to live it all over again
So yes
No longer colour blind
With the opening of my mind
I let colour seep in
Starting somewhere different
today I begin
Because I know
it shouldn't be
just the privileged who win!
Uncomplicated me
I thought I was coloured blind
free thinking and kind
with an evolved mind
Loving and accepting
of the ones I find
Yet my blindness
Is that of privilege
I'm just a visitor
in the Global village
From my narrow thin mind
there is too much spillage
Although so many
are forced from their homes
My life seems carefree
I am deaf to the groans
Brown women wearing veils
that can't protect them from stones
I live in a white washed place
No "Freedom Marches"
for men of a different race
Yet, if I look back and trace
there are darker stories to face
We all took part in shameful things
Yes, we share in the disgrace.
Highways of tears
Rivers of shame
There's always
someone else to blame
Residential schools
Each child got a new name
They were forced to forget
the place from where they came
Prisons filled
with black and red skinned men
They can't forget
this now or that then
Promises and promises
but who how and when
Or will their children
have to live it all over again
So yes
No longer colour blind
With the opening of my mind
I let colour seep in
Starting somewhere different
today I begin
Because I know
it shouldn't be
just the privileged who win!
I wish we had truth glasses
Which would enable one to see another’s truth or lies
Face to face and with every other type of communication
All mistruths and deceptions no longer disguised
The truth glasses would be brilliant on social media
A big bold word of either “ TRUE or LIES” would appear on screen
Letting us know who we are honestly dealing with
Keeping us all away from predators and the obscene
What a difference it would make in our world
If all lies were known and only truth reigned free
The benefits, positives and peace created would be unimaginable
As would the complete chaos and debris!
I see you
Now stuck in two dimensions
They sit you up
They lie you down
Semi vertical
Fully horizontal
Yet, I have the coloured lenses
Of memory
They don't know the man I can see;
Cycling, dancing, singing
Living a fully rounded vibrant life
Kind and gentle
Father, husband, friend
Grandpa, colleague, leader
Teacher, wise councillor
Bright and beautiful
All things
Now hidden
Under thin grey sheets
A cruel captive
Pencil sketched in
Monochrome
A palliative prisoner
Yet, we celebrate
A vibrant life of joy
A legacy of light and love
A space that will never quite be filled
Except with colour
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They sit folded on the windowsill,
a geometry of silver bones
holding lenses thick as bottle-bottoms.
Morning light catches dust particles
dancing in their patient curve.
He wore them low on his nose,
peering over the frames
while reading fishin’ magazines.
The bridge bears twin grooves,
softened leather pads worn thin
by decades of Sunday morning news
and crossword puzzles.
Now they frame only stillness –
ghost lenses reflecting the garden,
empty orbits where his eyes
once measured the world’s sharp edges.
Cold metal remembers the warmth
of his temples.
A full glass of red wine,
each time I choose to dine.
It always makes me feel fine,
as if I need it to always shine.
In my body, it builds a shrine:
it's my own sacred lifeline.
I got it from a grapevine,
A bond I entwine,
as now mine:
online
in line,
It's divine.
I can never again decline.
It isn't for a drinking spree.
A glass a day brings joy to me.
Not as much alcohol as in spirit,
to get drunk on it, I definitely flee.
so as to get good health for free
and light my heart up with glee.
Like taking a cup of tea.
Longlife, just the key,
Doctors' plea.
As I see.
I agree.
Let it be.
On my knee.
With health, can't be carefree.
Two o'clock she hits me hard
I salute to another captain
look around and swallow hard
Not as hard as you leaving
hitting me straight between the eyes
stars spinning right after midnight
can't remember exactly why
Whispers filled the empty cauldron
along with a pint of homemade wine
life already was a struggle living
now what am I going to do with all this time
Whiskey glasses and bathroom mirrors
keep on holding back the cries
another pent up night in Georgia
running scared and telling lies
Come on back before the summer
when my troubles will be unclothed
sprinkle love upon these shoulders
before this man has decomposed
I want rose coloured glasses,
To watch the world burn and misty mushrooms fill up the sky.
I want rose coloured glasses,
To watch the sun's rays shine from window tops.
I want rose coloured glasses,
To accept my defeated fate in the ruins of the golden antiquity.
I want rose coloured glasses,
To keep breathing through the glass piercing my soul.
I want rose coloured glasses,
To keep believing I exist.
I want rose coloured glasses,
To see the future within me.
There's this guy, he's tall, wears glasses, brunette, thin,
He's so sweet, always nice and respectful.
The way he crinkles his nose and looks down with a smile,
She could just watch him for a little while.
He blushes ever so slightly when he speaks to her,
As if he's nervous or maybe a little giddy.
She tries to keep her cool, act like she's not phased,
But inside her heart is racing, she's dazed.
His laughter is a symphony, a song in her ears,
Washing away all of her worries and fears.
She loves the way his glasses slide down his nose,
And the way his polite, respectful demeanor shows.
And when he talks, she feels like the only person in the room,
The rest of the world fades into a hazy blur.
She gets lost in his eyes, a beautiful sight,
And the way his gentle, innocent smile shines so bright.
When he finishes, she feels a little weak,
Just savoring the gentle, respectful way he speaks.
Girls Who Wear Glasses
Girls who wear glasses
Are seen as geeks or a nerd,
Which is the most ridiculous thing
That I've ever heard!
Girls who wear glasses
Are actually sexy and cool
Whether they’re petite little pixies
Or long-legged and tall.
Girls who wear glasses
Look intelligent and smart;
A look that has always
Gone straight to my heart
Girls who wear glasses
Are to be praised and admired
And to be told frequently
They are loved and desired!
The rain on my glasses
I see it, so magnified
Each droplet, a crystal
Gliding
Upon the wall of my mind,
On every lens,
A waterfall, a river,
A stream
In the rear, I stand
Pondering
As if in a marvelous dream.
The rain on my glasses
I see it, so magnified
Each droplet,
A spring inundating
The arid ground of my mind
Through every lens,
A world drenched, colored,
Surreal
In the rear, I stand
Pondering
As if I have just begun to feel.
Rose colored glasses
a fantasy view perceived
splendid get away
almost not wanting to leave
everyone should own a pair...
I look at the world through rosy glasses
It helps me tolerate the asses
And as each new day passes
I am happy to be here
The glass I see is half-way full
I think diversity is kind’a cool
Mix up genes in the human pool
And let prejudices disappear
I like staying optimistic
Even if it’s not always so realistic
Being otherwise just makes me sick
I hope my meaning is quite clear
So, if you must wear a frown
And see the glass as half-way down
I don’t want you come’n round
Unless you’re wanting to be cheered
The pessimists are down the hall
The realists don’t exist at all
The fatalists wait for the call
They all think I’m kind’a *****
But, I am happy to be me
You get exactly what you see
This, I hope, I’ll always be
For another 50 years
There was a man from Thomaston
Of real good vision he had none
Glasses weren't any help
They sat upon the shelf
From his surgery he's left stunned
My husband has had cataract surgery this week..
He says that he can't see any better out of the eye
upon which he had surgery.
The longer
the classes,
the stronger
the glasses.
Volodymyr Knyr
2014