Short Squinted Poems

do not let
your convictions
survive with
squinted eyes
making the
heart flourish but
the spirit dies
that truth shall
be nourished...

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see that array of blackened stars
as blindness
is squinted away
rubbing retina
feel the sun on eyes of lid
feel the light that pierces skin...

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A Summer Sight

burning white glare 
forces squinted sight ~
sons squat by pool squashing bugs


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Sally young eslinge
(C) June 25, 2022...

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a head that could not resist the turn
as eyelash lifts to reveal its joy
and from that squinted smirk of broken lip gloss
Time twisting one leg behind the other
ushers to continue
the promise only she
could keep...

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That was one mean mad yellow cat
Someone threw him in the creek
And he didn't want to take a swim

The expression on his face
Was twisted and squinted
I knew, just knew

That at any minute
With bared teeth and sharp claws
He was going to get one and all...

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Listen to poem:

I stand lined up in the sights 
between black lines, 
going from left to right
going up and down, 
lines drawn as crossroads,
at the intersection point 
between chance and choice
sighted and aligned
in the cross hairs,
targeted by 
the sniper 
with squinted eyes
called
'Fate'...

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Endless days of gray and drizzle
Bumbershoots constantly at the ready
Constantly we pull on our overshoes
And break out once again the slicker

Suddenly and brilliantly the sky appears blue
We peer with shaded and squinted eyes
Marveling at the sheer, elegant beauty
In Washington, spring has finally arrived...

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Social antics have never been famous among my strained personality. 
Bland worm stomped world of a thousand jealous and dishonest souls, in what shades do you’re judgmental and squinted scorn stare? 
I tend to hold the hand of kindness only to be blessed with a broken wrist.
Excuse me while I wedge this arrow in cupid’s throat.  

-Mitch...

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    A magic ring landed right next to me
       on it an inscription I squinted to see

    Inside a tiny heart I read my name
       when away it flew, just like it came

    So I sat me down, to try to think
       overhead, the moon seemed to wink

    And written up there, clear as a bell
       two mysterious words ~ Farewell, Isabel
...

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Levels horizontally fixed
angles of light are tightly fit
geometrically spaced slats
fragmenting our perception flat

Narrowed slits squinted view
awkward sight for most in lewd
unaware of drawstring near
lifting veils vision clear.....

Trapped below the shadow of self
angled heights obscuring shelf
empty pantry up above
as lower self continues shove...

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A wee lad, tresses from a day's play tousled
  Squinted up at a cavernous sky to find
Where the moon and stars were twinkling tonight
  Mapping out bears and lions in his pint-size mind

Time's passed, he now employs a telescope
  His stellar scientific maps delivering hope
Of discoveries to change the way grown men think
  ~ Yet to a wee lad's curiosity will they be linked...

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.

                  Glisten
      Mine eyne be converted 
                   Blind
   hern dishabille transformed
                mine see

                   yesss
           through that voile

Of course she caused mine blind

                     yet 
             mine squinted

                      je'
                   gently



*voile: diaphanous clothing ;)...

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sleek and sneaky, stealthy too wherever they go
sixties cats crawl around sixties beatnik row
their eyes are squinted, they know where it is at
we are careful not to point out their ears are flat

they have a look only seen back in the day
they are always black, never orange, tan or gray
the sixties cats sit in sixties chairs, streamlined and fine
modern we thought back in those olden times...

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sleek and sneaky, stealthy too wherever they go
sixties cats crawl around sixties beatnik row
their eyes are squinted, they know where it is at
we are careful not to point out their ears are flat

they have a look only seen back in the day
they are always black, never orange, tan or gray
the sixties cats sit in sixties chairs, streamlined and fine
modern we thought back in those olden times...

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Selective hearing loss going on,
His wife said, "That's a pretty lady"
He said, "She sure is...I mean HUH?"
She squinted and thought, "That's shady"

It went to the back of her mind
She let it slide just like before
Such a close one, but he got by
So glad he wasn't shown the door

I know you think that guy was me
That's the way it usually goes
But I'll tell you what, that's not true
(As far as anybody knows!)...

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For me, 
Home is the wind and where it goes. 
Home is the misguided run among the corn rows. 
Home is the resting place of the stray arrows, 
And crooked bows. 
Home is the humid moo of the angry neighbor's cows. 
Home is that sunset whose beauty flows through squinted brows.
Home is the uneven waves, that provide music to the Arabian dhows, 
Home is the feeling, not the house. 
        
          -home -
              Elliepoet...

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My thumbs pressed on the trigger.
The M-2 bucked its load.
I squinted down the barrel
And watched his head explode.
An early morning ambush,
A steaming Luzon hell,
For Ferdi and Imelda,
Our Cold War clientele.

The mission was generic:
Suppress the NPA*. 			
It didn't really matter
Just who got in the way.
I carried out my orders
And did what I was told,
But Christ, the kid I wasted
Was only twelve years old.        

*New People’s Army – a Maoist insurgency...

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There is a View

There is a view, slightly obscured,
by tilted head and squinted eyes
sad hazy tint of things abhorred
tears unshed when a flower dies
long shadows cast
on future’s past.

Grief’s sight will clear, it’s heart endure
high in the scented pines faint cries
incite the frozen hawk, restore
dead gaze, unfurl bold wings, arise
feathers estranged
by winds of change.


©2/12/2018submitted to – Rhyme Me A Posie – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Broken Wings...

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