the mirror reflects old eyes that stare
a reflection of for filling dreams and the coming nightmares
these days that went from no-where then into every-where
once opulence and good fortune was fed
now its no more trips into eden and into babylon
and the lust and rage of youth is long gone
the eyes see no more sunshine upon the rising dawn
for the sands of time say theres no time to dwell upon
as today they only see a future with a coming storm
the eyes remember the true tales-the ones wholly robust
but the eyes now only see the memories floating in the dust
much like the prayers of the innocent who souly trust
for the days of youthful freshness is now long lost
like the winter tree naked and bare in the bitter frost
lifes expenses now has become a cost
Why are the pupils all hollow and black?
While the rest of the face answers back.
Two little eclipses, silent and small
Meet without speaking, yet somehow tell all.
Blue irises sparkle, green irises gleam.
Hazel rings catch a sunlight's beam.
Yet every glance, both shy and deep,
Slips through coronas where secrets sleep.
The pupil offers neither a glow,
Nor colours any eye can show.
A silent absorber drinking light.
A waiting well hidden from sight.
If the pupil were white on a face so fair,
There'd be no doorway inviting our stare.
If it were a mirror, we'd turn away,
Finding no reason to linger and stay.
Two strangers meet with quiet grace,
Their dark eclipses face to face.
Each sips the light that the other brings,
Through glowing coronas, halos and rings.
Perhaps the darkest place we keep,
Is where a seeking soul looks deep.
Yet this dim path to shared delight,
Begins through darkness into light.
the professional explorer will be along shortly
Do not stare, he is kind of a stereotype, said my pal, Portly.
I had no idea what that meant until the explorer showed his face
It was Indiana Pones Penguin, I welcomed him with some grace
The softest light bathes me in a gentle hum
yet my struggle should unfold as I try
to make that light fantastic.
I seek purpose - but find none.
Fingers dance above the keys: A, S, D, F.
In my brain is a labyrinth of doubt. It echoes, and yet
is that a silent spark?
Have I at last found purpose -
or do I wish to scream?
So scream at the screen,
to try to drown out the hum
of pieces of a puzzle from
this computer. It looks at me
and it and I exchange our stares.
(8 Mar 2026)
Feeling low, nowhere to go
Feeling sad, feeling mad
Feeling nothing, cold as ice
Feeling something, but it's not nice
Thoughts all through my head
The main one wishing I was dead
Hand to the wall, to feel something different
Felling anything but relevant
Music playing, no joy there
Just sat with a cold dark stare
Body shaking, can't make it stop
So emotional I think I might pop
Want to speak, no words come out
Hearing voices, it won't stop
Everyday getting worse
I wish I could put this in reverse
Feeling nothing, feeling something
I just want to feel one thing
Cannot cry, cannot laugh
This is leading down a very dark path
Not much to do, not much to say
I just want to wish the pain away
I'm sorry I'm who iv become
In my mirror their is no one
Feeling low, feeling slow
Feeling iv got nowhere to go
Feeling nothing, cold as ice
At risk right now is my life
Gazing at it means I love it, but staring at means another plan!
Could be good could be bad could be short could be long could be sweet or not!
A stare with the idea of coming love,
To build and design with simplicity;
By care, cheer, and choice as the one above-
To care for her taste's specificity.
Warmth of her heart, shines...
The regards of my mind's shrines
That love's worship dines.
A stare of imperfect realistic show,
That displays raw empathy within flaws...
Grows intent with fearless thrill to forego
Every scar shaping past, silence withdraws.
Money brings extent-
Depth issues warning torment,
Choice did not resent.
A stare with dedicating reflection,
Around heavy commitments offered game
To play such cum disappointing rejection,
When love no longer but feel learned cum shame.
Complexities cough,
Simplicity seems so rough...
To redeem love's tough.
A stare of loyalty not only beep,
But also calls for sweet invitation
My eyes can't reject but honour to keep...
Conflicting tests strengthening adaptation.
Lower, lower, dear
Your daring stare is so rear,
For my eyes to sneer.
Trapped in an empty space I wait,
Did I get the day straight,
I don't like being late,
So here I wait,
Feeling like bait,
Awaiting my fate,
Their eyes propagate,
As thoughts accumulate,
My unidentified state,
relating to some others' view,
What do they think I'm here to do?
While i sit waiting for you,
My emotions begin to stew,
Through the attention I drew.
My true intent in the moment,
And the reason I've been sent.
This unseen event important,
I'm your entertainment,
A form of enslavement.
I cant change the engagement,
Representing my best reflection,
Hoping you get a good impression.
Entwined in Divine Intervention,
Waiting alone in this session.
The perfect lesson,
Life is in constant progression.
Time I leave my position,
And continue on my mission,
Fishing for a reason you didn't show,
Finding a light in the shadow.
There are forty-eight dolls in this guest room
I see them staring at me
Many wear porcelain bonnets
They are statues with accusing faces
I wonder if they came from Salem
I feel they have come for me
You're one of the reasons why the smile sees
You're stare is the one who gives me peace
Holding hands while the silent meet
The ambience is so light cause you're one of the pieces
The unplanned is better than the planned
You're such a beautiful, unexpected bond
The invisible string gets connected in the hand
The eyes meet - talk and understand
Every time we're together, our laughter aligns,
We play and do silly things most nights.
The jokes we share, the little stuff too,
All are proof of the love I feel for you.
There’s comfort and peace with you by my side,
No overthinking, no worries to hide.
You hold my hand, your eyes give me rest,
Your smile makes my heart feel truly blessed
The rose won’t pose, won't stay its will,
It knows it can’t be forced to stay still.
It sneaks movements between brush strokes,
Breaking free of the painter's staring yokes.
The lemon makes faces with bitter pride,
It hides its shyness with a snide slide.
Each subject plays a veiled charade,
As each freeze-frame is displayed.
The painter grabs what time would spill,
To capture one moment with all their skill.
Not knowing their aim can't be fulfilled.
For life is too fluid and free-willed.
Just after each moment is painted.
The scene is already old and outdated.
For nothing posed stays that way for long.
It shifts with each glance, and moves on.
I stare long at every face
That looks like you
Your are a mirage
I come towards you
Your body is a dejavu
Of warmth
Oh to touch it
Oh to have you mine.
Casting a blank stare,
Into the corners of my mind.
I AM to prepare,
For what i might find.
I AM to take care,
Of what I have designed.
I AM to be aware,
Of what's keeping me behind.
Darkness everywhere,
I'm feeling so confined.
Running through a nightmare,
I'm pain, shame and guilt combined.
Approach me if you dare,
I'm your Mastermind.
Silence fills the air,
I'm running blind.
A sense of despair,
I need time to rewind,
Casting a blank stare,
Into the corners of my mind.
• Such a charming fellow
• With eyes a vibrant yellow
• He'll stare you down
• Often with a frown
• Befriend him and you'll see he's quite mellow
A breeze did slide in under eaves
and stirred inside the air that grieves,
my children grown my dreams have flown,
alone I sit my rocking throne.
My chair in front of window bare,
I look… but husband’s soul elsewhere.
Beneath my feet the floorboards moan,
alone I sit my rocking throne.
Each day I rock the same tic tock
and change not from my sleeping frock.
Once soft my face now turned a crone,
alone I sit my rocking throne.
The length of cobwebs measure time
they speak no secret sing no rhyme,
but air that’s stirred does tend to drone…
alone, I sit my rocking throne.
I pray to rock myself to sleep
as old-age-chains do rust with weep.
These tears from seeds of sorrows sown,
alone I sit my rocking throne.
The run of beads and crucifix
will not unfix life’s mix of tricks.
A rosary my rope and stone,
alone... I sit my rocking throne.
Of God I beg relief from grief,
unbind my mind from mortal sheaf.
This plea endures like sun bleached bone—
alone I sit my rocking throne.
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