Best Retinal Poems
When I gaze into this realm, I see more than the dazzling array
of golden starbursts floating in a cosmic sea of blue-green-gray,
photoreceptors painting post-Impressionistic explosions of colors,
fibers and dilator muscles servicing your ocular aperture.
I see distinctive melanin patterns of a truly original individual -
a retinal scan of exceptional singularity,
each nebula unique, every supernova peculiar,
no quasar like any other.
I passionately absorb with one brief glance
an infinity of nuance,
an eternity of historical archives,
a heaven and earth of emotional journeys.
I am reading your autobiography, the encyclopedia of you.
I remain a student of your sclera,
a pupil of your pupils,
a Vincent of your irises,
going half-mad with the dizzying vastness
of the starry night within your eyes.
I believe that poetry is and of is was were have has been of as one pretenses a
poetic practical pompous, pro (p) ransomedramatical postenses
pretending to prose promise a
predictive premise primatory practicum politicallty
polishing practcoriam process of primary
preliminary postures pragmatic promulgates
telling the ta ta tumultuous tillo tales of tawdry
banal blog lists calling me to quali-quantify the reso-resolutes
resounding in resilient quo quotients that bear a
breach bridgeborn badge billed
barometer bearing broad billboard
catatonic catashrospies creating caustic crill
coffinistic coiffures canonizing
socio unsettling leo linguistic lies in a somewhat
lovevoid livid liquiditoria regal
ransom based regalia resonating
rawbone residual retinal real time
tombosoties transitioning with
toying transient trio tide tooth
crass cavity craino creep mandibulo master mildew
mold molecular mamsy-pamsy sillopsuedo master of
ever me present I , me , mine, maestro
sitting back and looking at the world as a place to be
not to be, hope to be, wish to be, be to be, in the
proper primer of humino yesnomenclatureculture of that which is u
me us our belief sem radical of our prim-ordeal sociodiscontentselfevident
irrelevant mean fullness, to countercure our quick/quack quotient
umbrella upbringing to say do write feel text tank athink
all that is emo exit everpresent to keep the fecal faces free of
founding father status inquo man although time is time in place.
Mindfulness is a mute place ill unattended by sociocrap everlasting.
Treasure travel inviting innate needs netherly nodding to the primo positive
practitudes of acoustic ancillary annotated awareness, allowing all annuities
ancient archaic to willfully wind wind waveringly wish away intrinsic id-ideas.
It it is what u want it it to be, say, scroll, live, plural, self to self. Use it, lose it,
share it, beware it, con-cure it, it. Know it it's criminal capitol is wary for before
u know it it, life it before it its u, and will its it and
ego ale all eek out the precious profit of its itdom idiocracy illusionary in its
illogical inness so mad made as not to gravely gravitate ungracious griefs
upon your its it.
scary huh. Karma it, Big Daddy.
Drip
Drop
Water drop cascades under sapphire afterglow
Undoing 4 month deprivations
Muffled moans surround crimson fireplace
Crackling of fire
Thrusts of skin
Retinal vibrations shutter her pilot light deep within
She ascended to blue moon heights
As embers of his inferno
Bow in collective unison
Maddening grips
His fingertips draw triangular markings
Hugging curvature’s hip
Gentle bites on lower lip
He tackles her wanton hands against waterbed foundations
Her strengthened pupils reach out for 3rd eye clarity.
She asks for his dance under aggressive whisper
As he dips
Inside
Slow motion Salsa bends of her will
She crosses legs marking “X” against his spot
His relinquished hands
Slalom her vocal chords toward accentuated heavens
He exorcised her trembling inner thighs
From collapsing octaves
With eloquent, muted exhales
His hand reaches her cheek
His mouth descending towards her breast
“My lady, put that lighter down,
Let me be your cigarette.”
Drip
Drop
©11/19/2013
A Scorcher for Charlotte's contest. (Update: Tied for 2nd place. Nice!)
You used to look at me.
You glanced upon my ripened, caramel skin
With palpitated affirmations
Of your smile
Love
Friendship
Inebriated
Your titanium pupils
Illuminating across Merlot filled chalices
Another umbrella drop
Another hungry thrust
Unto solemn choruses
Another choir of sonatas
Filling our bells
Turning the tides
Against full moon deceptions
Yet, the sun rose.
We would lie on park benches’ lap
As I covered my thorns
To avoid your judgments
Drawing your attention to cresting waves
By our lakeside
Yet, the clouds rolled in.
As vehement rainfall
Caused my roots to blossom
My thorns to strengthen
You were poked by my errors.
Another angel cries.
These wingless flaws I shed
Within retinal waterfalls
As I hold onto empty, rickety barrel
For dear tomorrows
Am I
Now
Not good enough for you
Has your pulse’s arrhythmia from yesterday
Become
Stagnant
Will you still take my hand
In whimsical slow dance
Through God’s uncertainty
Because, tomorrow,
I will still be the same.
©Drake J. Eszes
Below within the dwelling deep,
while tumbling in fitful sleep;
the rumble-hum of furnace keep;
the mouse and Cat Lord Bo-peep.
Fluttering lids and labored breath
below within the dwelling deep,
furious dreams do waken sleep
attributes of childhood’s bequeath.
Horrors rise on temporal tides
a stew of insanity bides.
Below within the dwelling deep,
the cat fiddle-screeches life’s weep.
Dali cobbles retinal creeps
the mind dittles and cows moo oon,
The nightmares ending none too soon
below within the dwelling deep.
The walkers ... aimless and ambling,
stagger, strut and stumble toward
their solitary scenarios.
An occasional erect form jogs
the stomping sound of feet submerged
in the staccato hum > the rapid fire buzz
the blaring horns of traffic.
The colors of life appear random ...
as flashing retinal after images
on closed lids, constantly
refreshed by rubbing.
A geometry of pretense
is etched into the forebrain of the fragile,
for all walk ... the sane, the insane
the righteous, and the negligent
the skeletal structure
correlating and communicating
the random pattern of life
to the Universal eye
from this earthen plane.
Eh, Bebe ...
clueless you with the wide eyes open,
which can’t see
So apoplectic of heart,
paralyzed by the cobra sway
of changeling channel charmer words
Gen Z baby gloomer
remote diaphragm controlled,
go back to analog sleep
Oh oh ... video comatose —
Nightmares begat by daydreams
of reel digital silver screams
Lost Vegas patch-eye vision
of one arm pulled down
And the coins keep trickling
into your open palms
Baby Bebe gon umbilical vault cray cray
Cut the cord of the eyelid dark violet curtains ...
bling-bling blind birth
shut the womb of twin retinal glow dearth
So aorta slow,
slug cranial coma critical ...
lobotomy comatose
Virtual voices say:
eh, Bebe —
Pull the plug ... let the dying vapors go,
expired from a necrotic nasal
Inspired by a tremendously bold & powerful track, “Who we are” by Machinehead
Once upon a misery call
Deception broke bread with diabetic circumstances
Sugar
Coating
Half-assed smiles
Phantoms of a listless fortitude
Haunting today’s unfulfilled promise
As they wear silken layered Khakis
With African cotton dreams
And unclaimed pocket protectors to share their wealth
Amongst other wealthy failures
They ask to make “change”
While folding up heroin-laced $50s under Cabernet bodies of Christ
Once, twice, three times a deceiver
Who dares draws irradiated chalk upon broken billboards
Not the educated teacher
Satisfying extra-curricular agendas
Grading heat-stroked ovulations
On jezebel’s curve
Nightmare of the philanthropist
Giving unto others’ unexplained wishes
The “hungry”, fed
The lonely, shed
S
h
e
d
Shedding retinal rejections
Over misguided wisdoms
As they listen for audible sanity
Wandering within the bellows of an insatiable burden
(Cricket sounds)
©Drake J. Eszes
The world spins kaleidoscopic, a whorl of color in revolt.
Oceans quake malleable, molding into fissures of tectonic hunger,
ravaging the deep, stirring the primal need depressing
populations’ unseen to the denizens of land, disregarded in man’s wake.
From the diatom, to the whale, from the single cell to the open hand
from the sun, to the stars, to the mushroom bomb, we’ve light.
Within the orb of eye, retinal flares of light,
an inside-out, upside-down, yin and yang revolution
juxtaposing wealth with poverty, as throngs rise asking for hand
outs, aching with a human need to know, hungering.
Childhood has ended, the tell-tale snake does wake.
Death’s rattle will subside, as the head eats the tail of depression.
Communication will become the global antidepressant.
Natives in aboriginal huts and Inuit in igloos will see the light.
There will be no holding back the tide for hand in hand, each cell wakes.
No longer can knowledge be withheld. “Phone home,” a revolutionary
cry, the tit will not be ripped from the lips of hungering
humanity, the tyrant and the saint juxtaposed, their time at hand.
Instant communication, shall scrape the barnacles of blight handily.
The stroke of finger tip to key shall depress
and ignorance will flee, freeing the hungry
for the way out ,the way up, the key, light-heartedly
heads bowed in prayer, we shall revolt.
Let tyranny be eaten, and righteousness wake.
On the egg of earth, we float in celestial wakes.
Solar tides stir the shards of glass raising death’s hand.
Round and round the top spins each revolution
forced by the pumping thump of rods depressed
rods magnetized and charged with lightening
for we all hunger.
Each evolution a revolution, each thirst quenched brings new hunger.
Repression will never depress the desire to wake,
nor, will the fisted hand ever bring the light.
The Wakening World
A new world spins kaleidoscopic, a whorl of color in revolt.
Oceans quake, molding into fissures of tectonic hunger,
ravaging the deep, stirring the primal need depressing
populations unseen to the denizens of land, left in man’s wake.
From diatom, to whale, from single cell, to open hand
from sun, to star, to mushroom bomb, we have light.
Within the orb of eye, retinal flares of light
an inside-out, upside-down, yin and yang revolution;
juxtaposing wealth with poverty, throngs rise asking for hand-
outs, aching with a human need to know, hungering.
Childhood ends as the predestined ouroboros wakes.
Death’s rattle subsides, as head eats the tail of depression.
Communication becomes the global antidepressant.
Aborigines in Australian huts and Inuit in igloos see the light.
There will be no holding back the tide, for hand in hand, cells wake.
No longer can knowledge be held. “Phone home,” a revolutionary
cry, the breast will not be ripped from the lips of hungering
humanity, tyrant and saint will be juxtaposed, their time at hand.
Instant contact scrapes the barnacles of blight handily.
The stroke of fingertip to keyboard or keypad depressed
sends ignorance fleeing, freeing the knowledge hungry;
showing the way out, the way up, the key. Light-heartedly
heads bow in prayer, the we will rock you will revolt.
Let tyranny be eaten, and righteousness wake.
On the egg of earth, we float in celestial wakes.
Solar tides stir the shards of glass raising death’s hand.
Round and round the top spins each revolution
forced by the pumping thump of nuclear rods depressed,
rods magnetized or charged with lightening
will energize the populous for we all hunger.
Evolution brings revolution, each thirst quenched brings new hunger.
Repression will never depress the desire to wake,
nor, will the fisted hand ever bring the light.
Sgt. Bedlam of heavy artillery reporting sir
Bedlam I want you to pick the runt of the litter
and turn him into an agent assassin
with the clandestine power of hypnotism
yes Generalissimo I am here to obey
decked out like a burlesque revue warlord
his Mauser cigar lighter on his belt
a curlicue mustache and a pie tin helmet
Opal his opium fiend gun moll squirming in his lap
was our Generalissimo
Bedlam weighed the coming abrasions
concluded we are our scars and furthermore
if adaptation is survival so is parasitism
cleared his throat noisily and bowed an exit
later that fate laden candle lit night
he made a deep study of his globes and charts
Europa Asia Oceana the Steppes the Savannah
the Scorched Hills of Malibu
a map addict re-educated in the cleanup of '89
his bell-shaped curve insisted love me
server and served a beautiful thing
if one enjoyed giant jungle arachnids and leeches
and centipedes that crawl up your butt
to lay millions of eggs when you sleep
where the laws of physics become
a tumbling burbling retinal stew
geysering steam and sulfur and mud and
where was I oh yah
yet a thing of beauty was Opal to Bedlam
he heard scratching and purring at the door
it was she incognito in an iguana skin
we must escape this hideous circus of shame
she coo coo rooed as her tongue dove into
the holy fissure in his brain
and he threw caution to the feral hogs
forgetting good posture he oozed upon Opal
I bet you think you make your own decisions
she cloyed and again he tossed caution
into a cauldron of grunting mammalian rut
for several hours perhaps the entire weekend
it's easy to rewire a human
you just give them a little epiphany
and bingo ownership
his hypnotic gambit paid off in ducats
the Generalissimo slept like a corpse
the pet centipedes concluded their labors
his ex-kingdom rejoiced at their new liberty
and that's anarchy for ya
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
regrets rise and fall
chafing at the frayed nerve endings of a finite life,
unfolding like origami cranes around the neck of kamikaze pilots
chewing at the bones of our discontent,
leaving holes in the fabric being.
regrets, like and of, unborn children
never growing to fruition, never falling
bud to blossom they decay, never reaching the Guf
pointless misconceptions of a wary heart
first born in joy left to rot in sorrow.
regrets rise and fall
yet we chose to retain them in the after-image
of retinal flares, ocular migraines inwardly staring
toward Gabriel’s outstretched palm
embryos unblessed.
never regret
ever regret
never
star shattered shards like broken glass
falling outward as time and mass
floaters in the eye of night
mining poetry infinite
retinal dancers, prancers,
mute slivers without answers
star shattered shards like broken glass
falling outward as time and mass
Debbie Guzzi
Contest: STARDUST IN AN OCTELLE
Date: 7/5/13
Sometimes you can hide yourself in a mirror
Not everything’s revealed within its glimmer
What you see is only your outer reflection
You’re only looking at lights reverse deflection
Your eye’s look forward but only see back
It’s truly an optical mirage, a reflective façade
Sometimes there are lies in the reflection
Walls that are built to provide you protection
Like makeup used to cover flaws and cracks
Hiding blemishes and limiting the attacks
Paradoxes of light, a brightness that is dimmer
Illuminating the truth, obscuring the grimmer
Sometimes the truth is only seen as fraud
When your outer skin hides what is inside
Mirrors are unique as they capture misdirection
Curved paths of light are only retinal projections
Images presented to the world may never lack
But they may not represent a faithful track
Sometimes a reflection is defined by the shimmers
Of the underlying image like candlelight that flickers
Giving up truths behind the lies seen by refraction
In a mirror’s view when you are open to inspection
Less defined by vision compared to the abstract
Of what is promised to your soul through God’s contract
i...t'was just outside, um...
with a camera's eye
on glistening snow trails
colored rainbow by setting sun
what the eye hides means...
for both retinal and brain cells time
has evolve(d) an innate self-protecting
system with limits seen as a 'shut-down'
'hence caution means proper-technology only'...
a self-adjusting camera and film that
may be used for science and a computer
to balance the brightness of red and blue and't
"a blackness space-patch appers a 'window' in a blue-sky..."
the sun appears a very close star in a blackened
circular-space seen by adjustable camera lens and film
it looks like a giant moon is too close (like in star-trek some
times an empty space appears in the middle anywhere)
stan sand
(caution: do not try without proper equipment; you'll go blind)