Short Corneas Poems

Kiss my eyes 

with your lips,

inhale the visions,

peel ing strips,

cataracts

from all the years,

layered horrors,

gathered fears,

gently excise with

your blade,

honed down from

the love we made,

clouded corneas 
of pain

to

let me see 

love's light

again....

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Death
Who is no respecter of persons
Beloved, haters
Gather around
Secluded murmurs and vents
Bloodshot corneas
Shudders, silence
Some to merry only
Black, oblivion
Disbelief, later epiphany
Resounding salutations
Indeed! Some only to make merry - come
Its desire: unquenchable
Like the Queen, never late
Departing she returns
Again without announcement....

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Eyes with an inch of disloyalty will not make contact with mine 
Toxic glances giving away your true intentions 
Unable to keep your pupils steady 
With a dishonest gesture, your eyes dart downward 
Eye contact eludes your corneas 
The windows to the soul never lie 
Little do you know, you have told me the entirety of your elaborate plan
Speak not, look guilty...

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Juicy sweat trickles down my back, the
Undulating fan, noisy, weakly blows
Lethargic gusts of dazed and drugged humidity in
Yellow-crusted corneas, blinded by desert dust

Steamy, simmering hot Santa
Ana air, dragon's breath mirage, melting
Unrelenting internal inferno
No relief for the next week, then
August arrives.

7/24/18

Any poem from July 2018
Sponsor Dear Heart aka Broken Wings...

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Substantial quadrants of hate

Throughout these veins circulate

Spiraling in frenzied states

Adrift an ailing coma


Infinite corruption clawed my corneas

Birthing the erasure of euphoria

Imprinting trademarks of memoria

Leaving in wake vile aromas



All confidence dissolved to solvents

Due to definitive involvement

Susceptible to gaunt installments

Marring my skin with melanoma



Mother Earth serves as a mime

Humanity must be refined...

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Who said it was blue? When I think of
A window, it is not the colour of grapes;
Nor is it a long stretch of morning field;
Also not a nighttime movie of galaxy film.

Who said red was the colour of deep 
Dungeons, not the ground far far above;
Too wrapped up in solemn holiness.
Not me or you or somebody else.

Interesting, I seep through poles there and
Another here, some static phenomenal and
Yellow-like excitement which is bouncing one 
Step and two step of our corneas....

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