Best Spyglass Poems
I really have outdone myself this time!
My ‘God Machine’ is finally in place!
I’ll never have to fret about a rhyme,
Or stop for a red light that changed from green
As if it sought to put me in my place
A random hiccup clearly quite obscene.
I really am quite clever I must say
My ‘subtle knife’ (1) allowing me to splice
My ‘God Machine’ into time’s tawdry day
The true God left completely unaware
That He is now controlled by my device
And just another victim of malware.
It seems there’s quite a lot that ‘God’ screwed up
That I intend to change now I’m in charge
I think that its bad form to cover-up!
So what’s the deal with dying anyway?
Let no one die will be my countercharge
And life is just a breeze on my freeway!
All pain mere nuisance, manna heaven sent
And sin gives you enormous facial zits
While love and kindness clear up all your rent.
Though talents differ, jealousies dissolve
As differences bring none real benefits
And non-destructive social moves evolve.
All birth defects, parental wealth passé
Genetic weakness gone with dodo bird
No accident of birth gives worth per se
Sins of the parent cannot taint the child
That God might favor one is just absurd
The color of one’s skin no more reviled.
But now I find my plans have gone awry
My God Machine decided I’m a flaw
It seems that I’m outdated samurai
Humanity endangering MY plan
Just plankton in the future’s yawning maw
Machine judged only advocate for man! (2)
Brian Johnston
November 5, 2014
Poet's Notes:
(1) subtle knife - A reference to a magical knife that can open windows in time in one of the 3 books in the Phillip Pullman trilogy 'His Dark Materials' including The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass.
(2) My poetic version of the lesson of the book and movie 2001 (written by Stanley Kubrick and Arthur C. Clarke) where HAL, a computer so smart that it becomes sentient, decides that that only way to really protect a manned mission of a spaceship to the planet Jupiter is to kill all the humans on board the spaceship. The crew's humanity HAL decides is just too big a risk to the mission that HAL is charged (by its human programmers) to protect.
Buoyant on the North west winds;
Shredded clouds expose a half moon eye.
An eye that stares cautiously at
The hyphens of cars below.
Stratus sunsets trace the highway,
That leads to my refuge,
and shields me from the voyeur and the oncoming night.
I sit upright against unforgiving vinyl,
on the back of a bus that rebounds daily,
between New York City and my nightly abode.
I watch the cirrus race the Greyhound
and the Mustangs running in packs of three.
A spyglass has formed within a white nimbus,
an oval window into the crowded heavens.
The clotheslines of the Gods turn to skyrockets,
Shooting masterful projections upward,
Now, composed as arrows that hasten
An antelopes final good night.
Clouds drift away without shadow or fault.
The clouds, the clouds
I alone with my burden,
Where do they go?
Run Aground
Arr, Matey! Me ship has run aground,
In this shallow world, I search for character, but none to be found.
Through me spyglass, a foggy, distant world, unclear,
This incessant devil bird squawking in me ear.
A chest full of silver, gold, and jewels galore,
But what I treasure most is a love forevermore.
Where mind sews cobwebs,
I take out a dissolving spyglass.
The space between this self
looks back seeing nothing.
That which holds,
rolls over mind-clouds,
finding no anchors.
The day will take me soon,
make me be what I claim to be,
but in any next pre-dawn
surfacing,
I will know again,
that I am not.
Sea waves
surface guards
of inner wet lords.
===================
Controversial storm
hard-tackling the captains ship
God is the referee.
===================
captains spyglass failed
overwhelmed by ambushed storm
crew helter skelter.
===================
Plain hearted sea
men sailed
pirates flags raised up.
===================
Autumn sea breeze
echoing melodies
a beach lullaby.
===================
BY: CHARLES MELODY, (LIGHTNING INK).
3/21/17
Is it going to be the low, high, wrong or right path?
Something I've grasped
You can't get any time back
Days and nights just might pass
Quite fast
The weather and intentions of people colder than ice packs
Humans kill and fight over cash
Just like that
In more or less than five flat
How quickly some will put a knife in your back
Trying to set you up in some kind of trap
Regardless of if it leaves all ties slashed
Too many have little to no regard for life and laugh
And it is not by chance
Sometimes due to a leak in a line of gas
Explosions caused after one striked a match
Usually causing damage and a bright flash
Medicines made by plants
Occasional ocean waves with white caps
Vague and very well defined maps
Crude and fine crafts
Dotted, single colored and striped hats
Near and far from spice racks
As well as any spyglass or wine glass
There was different types of bats
Inside a mineshaft
A sack of rice sat
Ending up becoming a nice snack
For several sighted or blind rats
A house with orange, grey , black and white cats
And nine mats
Several windows ajar so there is a slight draft
In the sky photographed
Another unidentified craft
Not going to give this a timestamp
While using a stihl trimmer to slice the grass
By: Dalton Ogletree
Marble hatched haven communes; helixicly hewn canvas' brushed within
Acidulous acrylics of adumbrated conjectual forms....
Spawn tipped dippings upon the collateral cliffs edging these, layaway hues?!
Deciphered shades in monochrome pitch pigments beneath the jaded jejunes
Manic manifestations, over-looking the colourant gangrene valley below
While as maritime merchants lifted from the pedagogue palettes of
Row your boats....
Climb their municipal born mast in marauds malice from afar
Signaling unto the watchtower through their Socratic spyglass optics
Inceptions intruder, standing tall and coming ashore; red rum....
...."Hurry, someone save the Queen!?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rembrants lost rocking chair moment in, artistic meritime manifestations ~
Note: Smile ~ I thought that I would offer up a bit of hopeful ice-breaking
and light-hearted humour upon this glorious and lovely "New Years Day" ~
Smile ~ "My 'Love & Warmth,' Always," John!:) ~ Ps. "En' Si Viod" ~
This self evident truth that all men are created equal ?
Never quite able as to escape these questions which arrive
Time's comical in ludicrous exposes: today as yesterday imagining
Her high courts turning unto a constitution defining something or another....
Ever evolving his living breathing documents cross fire spatial skies skeleton keys rogue
Renegades watermark tinsel town, treason from their graves these founding fathers proclaim
Antartic circles western worlds mediums her causeway's english channel I see dead people a baby's
Sixth sense the headless horseman thirty shekels of silver his broken bell premonition sheol's starveling
Shepherd spyglass mechants totem pole slave ship shackles spindrift spinsters who framed this, your amendments.
T'was the month of July
should've been sailing upon calm sea,
brightest sunshine
blue sky so clear.
For days and days, it rained and rained
As if the sky's afallin' away,
Bounced wildly about on wall like waves
T'was death we came to face.
Tied ourselves with ropes around our waist
To not to sea be blown and swallowed away
The only thing for us all to do, was pray
Then mates and the capt'n their voices did raise.
Began singing aloud sailor's songs of old
Drowning out their dread in the sea's assault
Sudden shower of sunbeams began to pour right out
Of the opening heavens by gushes of wind, parting clouds.
Hope returned about the crew
They knew the sea would be subdued
Looking through his spyglass out to sea
The capt'n saw our destination appear.
By CarolineCécile
Copyright © 05.16.11
Mariann was an extraordinary woman who’d been blessed with second sight,
So she soon came to be in the employ of the King to add to his power and might.
But she was like a spyglass that could only see where it was aimed,
She could only see where she was told and view where her sight was trained.
But once she knew what she was looking for there’d be no place left to hide,
She could see into a person’s very soul and know if he’d truthed or lied.
This made the whole of the King’s household more than a little nervous,
So the King made her a wife to the conjurer but kept her in his service.
So now they live a humble life inside their woodland cottage,
And will visit the King, at his command, to amplify to his knowledge.
What do bugs reach for,
when they start to sneeze?
They use an outdoor tissue,
and blow their noses on the leaves.
One day while looking through
my super size spyglass,
I saw a little snail.
I think he must have had a cold,
because he left a sticky trail!
You will never, ever have to
give a tissue to a bug.
Because if one is in your house,
he'd rather use your mother's rug.
~
I’m going to sea in a blueberry boat,
macaroon waves I will sail
Far past the girls and the buoys I’ll float,
maybe spout off to a whale
My crew at the ready but still half a sleep,
I’ll have to turn on the charm
Wake up, look alive, for this water is deep,
might have to set an alarm
I stand at the helm with both hands on the wheel,
the compass is pointing due east
Embracing the salt water breezes I feel,
we haven’t moved in the least
All hands on deck, yes, you can use your feet,
who left the anchor in place
No wonder we’re stuck here, dead last in the fleet,
we’ve got to pick up the pace
Finally we’re moving, the sails filled with air
and I with my spyglass in hand
Searching for islands and mermaids to share,
all just a part of my plan
This ocean of peppermint twists as it turns,
currents of grape lead the way
Lemon drop sunshine as bright as it burns,
nausea sets in from the sway
When there off the starboard, I think that’s the bow,
a very strange shape does appear
It’s Davy Jones locker but I don’t see how,
what is it doing up here
It’s then I look down, water up to the hilt
over the sides of my boat
I now see the problem in how it was built
who knew blueberries can’t float
I entered a contest, thought it would be fun,
wrote out my poem in ink
A day out at sea on a boat in the sun,
never once thought it would sink
Hey Nina, you did this, I hope you are near,
it seems that my courage might slip
So toss me a rope for it’s perfectly clear
I ain’t going down with this ship
9/13/19
Written for the: Welcome To My Random World Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Nina Parmenter
Fleeing nefarious intent
As watched through a spyglass
Running for forest's protection
With fast steps of chasse
Rifle in his hands aimed, ready
Will the quick shot be heard?
What will he do with a body?
Suddenly vision blurred
How can murder be on his mind
Once his love for her shone
But now hardness upon his face
Matching his heart of stone
He'd lost control of her he knew
She was now in the way
Now she's beyond his reach
He'd find her in a few days
Escaped by magic so it seemed
His life now out of control
He could not rest in peace, eat, or
Think, his power she stole
How will this thickening plot end
I cannot really say
Only a snapshot of the scene shown
I think she got away
Written: December 30, 2022
Contest: Beyond Reach
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
a fable
With rake in hand, I had a mission clear -
to rid my yard of piles of rotting leaves
before their musty smell got out of hand.
My ancient oak trees are prolific still.
Providing fruit and leaves with great success,
both shed in full abundance ev'ry year.
One wicked swipe of weaponry I thought
revealed a broken bottle nonetheless
it was instead a lens, a spyglass lost.
I picked it up, discov'ring life anew -
its closer focus found a seedling rare
had sprouted, taking root within the loam.
What I had thought was useless held a prize,
All winter long the dying leaves had giv'n
a careful shelter for one special seed.
I took my weapon back and in the shed
I found a cage-of-sorts that fit my plan.
The moral here, don't be so quick to clean
what nature has provided as a shield.
November 5, 2016
I've seen some ugly faces
I've thought some ugly thoughts
I've lost some ugly battles
I never should've fought
I've worn some ugly styles
I've written ugly songs
I've tried to find the places
To keep ugly where it belongs
It takes a sharp eye and a tender heart
To recognize the ugly in it
Now you may say that beautiful
All boils down to taste
That one man's treasure is another's
Refuse, trash or waste
But me, I've got my spyglass
And I'm locked into the world
And I'll be just fine so long as I
Can spot the ugly girls
It takes a sharp eye…
I've always heard these voices
That never made no sense
And I've made a couple choices --
I still come to their defense
Now the house is dark, the walls are plain
There's sackcloth on the mirrors
My face is old, but the cares of old
have begun to disappear
And the words that define beautiful
Have faded into the past
So I won't be so struck by the ugly
When I finally uncover the glass