Dilated Poems - Poems about Dilated

The doctor dilated my eyes; My pupils are three times their size. Since the time this occurred What I’m seeing is blurred, But I know things will soon stabilize. Still, I’m fortunate I can still read Since my near-sight is quite up to speed. I can write and can sew And do most things, although Distance vision is not guaranteed. I am lucky I don’t...

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Consorting with stars, Venus-Saturn alliance; Dilated gusto....

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I know something of betrayal- how lies can be white or hide in the silence; a kind smile that glides over violence- rifle to scope to dilated iris. The left hand that beguiles and the tight right fist Denial of the dawn, sunlight from the mist. I’ve seen eyes try to hold mine but waver. What is it to decipher a smile that refuses to...

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To dilate eyes It isn’t wise To feel surprise At pupils’ size. You must surmise This truth applies – The doc relies On such a guise. Don’t analyze Or agonize For facts arise (And that’s the prize). But time sure flies And justifies The sight that lies Within our eyes....

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"My heart is broken" I told the cardiologist. On our first meeting. Not in the romantic way, per say. But actual physical trauma. The strain of living that lie took it's toll. Not just on my heart, but my soul. Years of not being allowed to be me. Swollen heart, otherwise diminished totally. I would not have survived another year. That much was...

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Life's an adventure When one's mind Always ventures Until they find The bliss that We all seem to miss Yet, it has never Always been like this In the days of Lemuria & Atlantis When the magus Resembled a mantis Greek for prophet, Or seer Don't believe The end is near Always listen to What your heart feels & never what you hear Since, that'll only induce fear It's raining angel tears From the clouds who Rumble...

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when the eternal night blessed our kiss within deep trenches of beauty we held you left the sorrowful night with a hiss, shall forever be a treasure withheld a sheer memory of human nature wondrous night that is forever praised but thoughts like these tend to become glaciers as that day becomes a living record of that night your lips touched upon...

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