I see the wake
of what I look at
objects casting ripples
through the sea
of visual fields
like a boat or Nessy
cutting water
in zig zags
its trail allowing
secrets, coloured
kaleidoscope waves
rips and tears
peep holes no less
an honoured glimpse
into the mechanics
of reality, I hope
nobody up there
gets into trouble
for showing me
things they shouldn’t
how things are working
behind the scenes
Looking through a simple magnifier
Words look as big as your thumb,
Meanings, however, are not a justifier
For our being so outrageously dumb.
Never believe everything is as you see,
And be careful not to draw conclusions
For lots of things are very likely to be
The result of our ocular occlusions.
written November 30, 2021
Have i not intervened with the shape of the sea
Or vision vivid mountains with fish jumps
So pure the look like their soft skin
Forming shapes' never seen
Craving for more,
Ocular shapes surround us
Yet without we're still living
August,11,2018
Looking in her eyes
i see the brightest light to burn the skies
and wondered how i lived without her
a smile that would make me wanna start to say she opened up my heart
but then again i wrote it all in a letter
she makes my flaws so small
said you'll never have it all unless you own up to the things that make you tick
and ever since then i've been press set on building my respect so when we meet again you could be my chick
real ****
i don't wanna say i love you
and join in the abuse of the word that would best describe you
alternatives i try to but those are simply lies boo
i just wanna hide you
but you'll never shine so the freedom i''l provide
so that i could feel the pride
of that glimmer in your eyes
when you've gotten all you want
i just wanna hear you say tht i've been there from the start
By my eyes, I have sight
In this, I find comfort in the physical objects I see
For I know these to be existent in the light
Do not the birds of the air have sight of their nesting tree?
What is in sight, that of which is perceived?
Is it a distinction between reality and fiction?
Surely, what I see is authentic lest my eyes be deceived
From this inquiry, derives a most curious intuition
‘Tis a most exquisite frame of reasoning
To believe without ocular proof
And to ponder in the absence of feeling
Certainly an idea not aloof
For it is not what I perceive that which I rue
Rather, the things I’ve disdained, these that are true
Vacant but for
minute shadows,
I’d mistaken
for clouds
our sky has lied
again; it is
only blue;
chastely blue.
No longer do you
wait secretly
behind celestial
skeins of dust.
You are only in my eyes.
©Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
September 16, 20012
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