You look into my eyes
Through my eyes
Past my eyes
Beyond my eyes,
Aye, Private Eye
What is there
For you to see,
Through this
Virtual
Omniscient
Window?
Shall We
Close
Those
Shutters
Now?
A slight draft
Crawls up
My spine,
We do not want
To get cold,
There is so much
Salt to sweat,
Sugar to taste,
Songs to sing,
So many
Poems to
Caress.
Still.
Winter’s
Coming
Soon.
We do not want to get
Cold now,
Do we?
Aye, Private Eye
What is there
For you to see,
Through this
Virtual
Omniscient
Window
Into
YOUR
Tangled
Mind?
You look into my eyes
Through my eyes
Past my eyes
Beyond my eyes,
An iris puzzle,
Incandescent
Brown,
Yellow
Unspoken
Words,
Magic
Dark
Illusions,
Teary
Fearing
Songs,
Innocent
Crackling
Laughter.
Sensual
Anger,
Dark-tinted
Angel
Heart,
Poetic
Loop,
Unblinking
Self-reflected
Mirrors.
She looks into your eyes
Through your eyes
Past your eyes
Beyond your eyes,
Your private
Pair of eyes
Shooting a vintage
Voyeur short.
Strong
Frail
White,
What is there
For her to feel?
Nervous laugh
Forehead caress
Hairy blow
Eyes that drown
In naïve
Intensity.
Do smile,
Do Private eyes,
I kiss your eyelids,
If you kiss mine.
Close your eyes,
Aye,
Those
Very
Private
Eyes.
Do.
Keep.
Eye-smiling.
“Those very private eyes”: it’s really such an interesting phrase. It just reminds me that nobody has ever seen same thing, and almost maybe that none of us see something the same way. Our views (pun intended) are private and particular in their scope. I like how you keep bringing back lines and words here, also. You’re really trying some creative ideas.
I am very happy you like it, Benjamin. No. There are no 2 equal views. No 2 equal interpretations. No 2 equal readings. I think that works for poetry too. In my humble opinion. 🙂
I quite agree. There would be no evolution and humankind would still be stuck in the cave seeing no light if there was not a constant search for new life, new beginnings, new interpretations, new ways of thinking. If we got stuck with the same words, sounds, ideas, verses, and meaning, life would fully miss its full potential flavour. That would be so sad.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Benjamin.
This could all very well trigger a TRULY interesting conversation on the power and peril of interpretation – but I am not too inspired tonight, I think i need purer poetry and less thinking. We can keep chatting about this all over some other poem of yours or mine or anyone else interested in enjoying a good, fruitful and positive poetical debate. 🙂
A wonderful sense of calm in those lines.
It starts in such a great beat.
You look into my eyes,
Through my
past my eyes
Beyond my eyes.
Exceptional. I love how you use use the anaphora to create this wonderful puerile bubble of view.
Although the starkness of looking through ones eyes is unnerving too, is is gently comfortable and slightly fulfilling.
They say eyes are windows to the soul, and I guess the window will be drenched in golden sunshine and laden with singing birds as long as we keep eye-smiling and perhaps shedding the occasional tear!
“Those very private eyes”: it’s really such an interesting phrase. It just reminds me that nobody has ever seen same thing, and almost maybe that none of us see something the same way. Our views (pun intended) are private and particular in their scope. I like how you keep bringing back lines and words here, also. You’re really trying some creative ideas.
I am very happy you like it, Benjamin. No. There are no 2 equal views. No 2 equal interpretations. No 2 equal readings. I think that works for poetry too. In my humble opinion. 🙂
You’re right. Equal perhaps only in the difference, but that’s not a bad thing. Variety is life’s blessing.
I quite agree. There would be no evolution and humankind would still be stuck in the cave seeing no light if there was not a constant search for new life, new beginnings, new interpretations, new ways of thinking. If we got stuck with the same words, sounds, ideas, verses, and meaning, life would fully miss its full potential flavour. That would be so sad.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Benjamin.
This could all very well trigger a TRULY interesting conversation on the power and peril of interpretation – but I am not too inspired tonight, I think i need purer poetry and less thinking. We can keep chatting about this all over some other poem of yours or mine or anyone else interested in enjoying a good, fruitful and positive poetical debate. 🙂
i am sorry i probably sounded like a nerdy bore 🙂 will go bck to the poetry
This is exceptionally true. I loved the way you worded this, great job!
A wonderful sense of calm in those lines.
It starts in such a great beat.
You look into my eyes,
Through my
past my eyes
Beyond my eyes.
Exceptional. I love how you use use the anaphora to create this wonderful puerile bubble of view.
Although the starkness of looking through ones eyes is unnerving too, is is gently comfortable and slightly fulfilling.
They say eyes are windows to the soul, and I guess the window will be drenched in golden sunshine and laden with singing birds as long as we keep eye-smiling and perhaps shedding the occasional tear!
we’ll see. we’ll feel. we’ll reflect. we’ll walk. we’ll live. or try to . . .
we’ll try to write or read some poetry too whilst living in this wor(l)d-ly and loopy thinking feeling mad mess, or even silence.
everyone has their weak angles of view or reading, and no one owns the whole truth or meaning, even if they think they do.
guess there is always some Beauty, Love or Poetry to be seen, felt or read by the beholder – even while in darkness or walking through storms.
That ain’t extreme idealism. Such is life, survival, love.
And…no point being here if you did not know there would be some clear skies every once in a while.
Thanks for the feedback