Periscope Poems

1970

It was the year of `Spirit in the Sky.’
I kept your picture, Irene.
Norman Greenbaum
has his own webpage now,
imagine that?

Your grainy wedding photograph
(cut at the time from a local newspaper),
has emerged again
as a yellow submarine.
Your rainbow stockings still fly
from that long-abandoned vessel,

now all we need is to peer together
from the same periscope.

Untamed

Why is this thing called love
when by its fragile intent 
becomes a sudden slow ember
to then simply feed upon the flames
of its own bonfire

Those cursed lips
taste of a bounteous feast
so sweet its infection
is loves elegant torture
when from starvation 
desire is released

Ah ! Harlequin trickster of doubt and surety
within sleepless dreams
comes to taunt the flowers
and in petal meadows wander secretly

Hide from the fact
run to the truth
does a lie hang there
from the temples roof
does the paradox entwine
from the souls own making
and is it yourself you are forsaking

Why oh why
all this hesitant hesitation
I think I will stretch away from normality
because somewhere in sanity
I am evidently crazy

Searching has only brought this
this troublesome need
and its urgent request
a periscope peering
from out of my own depth

Expectant art
stunning beauty
written on the tongue
of latent sensuality
should I die
shall I be born
and allow joyous terror
to devour me
relinquish
accept
and in the end
vanish with love into eternity

After After

With remnants of mankind’s existence corroding
His lighting extinguished, his concrete eroding
The birds and the beasts have reconquered his space
Those same birds and beasts have forgotten his face

The forests, once dwindled, have burgeoned once more
Oak, elm and ash rupture old asphalt floor
Long vacant dwellings, now caves, dens and lairs
For ground dwelling mammals while bats live upstairs

The rivers all sparkle, their waters so clear
And large rusting pipes discharge nothing to fear
Waves tickle beaches, the breeze is their breath
With no evil lurking at periscope depth

Life springs abundant by land, sea and sky
Unhindered by species who weren’t meant to fly
Trees brightly clad in gold, russet and green
Alas, man cannot see how things could have been

And so all seems well but there’s still need of prayer
There’s horror to come from a long way… up there
This world, free at last, of man’s lethal know how
Could sure use a serving of man’s knowledge now

Unserviced and rusting, the launchers stand bare
No human stands ready; no missile sits there
Mankind had known that the space rock would come
And man would have nuked it… but he’s gone: Ho hum!

The Desert

a rattler flicking its 
split tongue...gathering
chemical messengers~ Prairie Dog
without a prayer

vulture, periscope downward
navigates a granulate sea, 
follows the wavering flow of tracks~
just over a grilling crest his meal
falls, pauses and pauses and pauses

he waits a bit longer on the sun, dinner
sun-baked and organic

Draw Add Wet View

   Blossoms line my laden descent 
down to the perked watering hole 
that plays empty theater, 
awaiting my creative path, 
a royal welcome -
represented by accumed variety and presumed clarity, 
of intentional therapy of renewed sensable youth. 

Periscope complicity is channeled by heart's stereoscopicity, 
Dryad/Satyr Satire, no dry ads, only wet views.

Season facets a wild cherry scent to your vantage point 
of attitude and beauty proximity, of dripping cues.

Draw the liquid curtain on the canvas 
of insanely intimate hues.
To a crash on the rocks of the mind-blown 
by windswept rescue chasing you behind a messaged massage, 
Baywatch, Oasissed Dunes and slow Djin mirage.
Nature is no stranger to being the muse, 
Rebel with a cause,
cause maybe this time you stay 
and snuggle awhile, sailor.

The Dark Spectrum

                             Lodged in the darkness, 
where the sea sweeps its shadows forlorn,
shorn to the moonlight,
quipped to the pun.
Porchlights turn on,
but nobody's home.

The mysteries of the deep, 
waves in the waves to it's maw to swallow, 
any meaning or meaningful color-map
or legend cloud wheel periodic table,
searches for the science and craft
to precipitate to farthest shore.
A siren's call, to de anchor and keel,
forsake this place of antifeel.

Echoing through the tides, 
where secrets lie, cloaked to steal
from the prism of lies down
periscope of sublife.

Christmas Gift Ideas, Maybe?

Some gifts were great for yesteryear
But with a face lift they can reappear
Like that good old soap on a rope
Can now be: may I have the envelope

When cleaning below the ship’s deck
Now you don’t need to break your neck
Buy a mini submarine with soap
On a periscope

If your pet lion has bad breath
Don’t worry yourself to death
Now you can treat it with soap
On an antelope

A word of warning for new age fans
Even though it is in the soap plans
I would never take a chance with soap
On a cantaloupe

But if your foolish brother is
Never minding his own darn biz
Wipe him out of your way with soap
On a dope

If your friend’s health is on the rocks
Show him or her how to detox
Starting with the improved soap
On a stethoscope

A great gift to open a kid’s eyes
To be able to enjoy the skies
Is to buy them that neat’o soap
On a telescope

Lastly, for those who are pessimistic
And are in need of some optimistic
Grant their X-mas wish with soap
On a hope.

Where is God hiding

Consciousness review,
reveals the cause
of inner conflict,
between head and heart,
both standing apart,
so close, yet so far.
Ego dwells in head
and God in our heart.
Periscope vision,
illumines our mind,
with a divine beat,
suffused with bliss mists,
being God’s grace,
showered upon us,
which we can imbibe,
if we’re receptive,
granting right of way,
to throb of love.
Thus, if we be still,
voids within will fill.

LUMINOUS a potd

Luminous
lights appear
in my long dreams,
as my soul, so it seems, holds high
a periscope
for my heart and mind to see
every surrounding scene

beyond the heavy, seamed quilt of history
laid over my long sleep,
my long night — as deeply
black as the pupils of my eyes
mirroring a moonless, starless mid-night;

yet my soul floats
within this ever-amassing eternity — 
wherein gleams an airglow for some sight
of the softly glistening atmosphere’s heights…
arising 
    heavenward
and shimmering 
~ while here within me
longings emanate
   (for a communion with God 
         and a complete life)
appearing luminous and divinely embossed 
— comprising my long, impassioned prayers 
— all into making
the long necklace 
  of gold-linked 
    wishes and psalmed gratitdes 

I kneel to sing
on these long nights
before my long sleeping…

Thought of the Day

If we pray for departed souls
Forms we encountered in this life
By doing so do we not negate
Life forms we touched earlier on
For our embrace, they still wait

Let us then look beyond lifespan
For we are soul eternal
Living light, one with all existence
Developing then periscope vision
Bridge distance, dissolve resistance

In the Buoy of November

The door is open,
To the month that precedes the year's end,
The curtains have given way,
The eleventh month has taken the stage,
A transition to the change of time and season.

The plans for the year are brought out,
The to-do list is run through,
The highs and lows are considered,
The shortfalls and superfluous are evaluated,
The ambitions are brought to the table.

Hope is threadbare,
Zeal is doused,
The succeeding year is in view,
Hope is to be deferred into its arms,
Gaze is fixed on where the eagles dare.

A pathway is sought through life's maze,
Light to suture the broken pieces,
Hope holds a periscope,
It admonishes a look through,
A medley of hope and light the weary heart seeks.



November 3, 2022.
November Poetry Contest,
Regina McIntosh.

I Saw a Picture of Irene

It was the year of `Spirit in the Sky.’
I kept your picture Irene.

We all thought we would die young.
Your grainy wedding photograph
(cut at the time from a local newspaper),
has emerged again like a yellow submarine.

I imagine your rainbow stockings still flying
from the periscope of that long abandoned vessel.
The sky-spirit is arriving Irene,
seagulls are singing like larks.

I suspect that both our eyes
are turning to diamonds Irene,
shining diamonds.

The Makings of Hope

Hope dwells in us,
It’s a lighted splinter,
Waiting to be rekindled.

Hope is latent in us,
It comes to the fore 
through us and by us.

Hope is that shadow that walks with us,
The lesser the light,
More it's readily available.

Hope sits in the dark with us,
It holds the periscope,
Encouraging us to look through.

Hope is a bird,
Its wings are strengthened
as we take strides.

The makings of hope,
Resides in us,
The emancipation of hope,
It’s our bidding.




July 3, 2022,
Mark Toney,
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 6 Poetry Contest.



August 30, 2022.
Free Verse - Old or New Poetry Contest,
Joseph May.



February 6, 2023.
Marathon Qualifiers' FINAL Placement Poetry,
Mark Toney.

Brace For Impact

The world on his shoulders,
He trudges along,
Standing amid the crashing sea,
He pushes on,
In gloom’s embrace,
He pulls away,
He believes lost time can be redeemed,
He has seen a path none around can see,
He walks on grace’s path,
They don’t bear the periscope,
They can't see through the veil,
They can’t see him inside out,
Courage props and supports,
Hope has not left him in the lurch,
He walks every mile in
 unflinching determination,
Brighter days are in his view.




June 23, 2022,
Brace for Impact,
This or That, Vol 12 Poetry Contest,
Edward Ibeh.

Seeker Seeking

Who’s the seeker seeking,
powers for mind-body
and to what end, hermit,
for that is not the way
to reach heaven’s summit.

Who’s the seeker seeking,
gift of astral travel,
of mentioned in folklore,
losing God-search focus,
since our heart craves for more.

Who’s the seeker seeking,
to open the third eye
for periscope vision,
when between head and heart,
there’s a fatal scission.

Who’s the seeker seeking,
whilst yet in delusion;
love bereft awareness,
insipid and barren,
till entwined with oneness.

20-June-2022

• Short Periscope Poems
• Famous Periscope Poems
• Best Periscope Poems
• Read Periscope Poems
• Long Periscope Poems
• Periscope Quotes