Poems about binoculars

Startle cracks
And curtain calls
My eyelids back

Diaphanous dropped
And veils up
Dewy bloom spotlit

Monkeysuit chauffeur
Denigrated daily
Scratch behind his ears
You're doing OK
Just mistook
Vehicle for passenger

Relax in seat back
Let clear and present ever
Steer biospheric lit

Allow etheric hum
Up the bony ladder
To outlook attic
Bindi blinds lift

Pretty bitchin'
46-bit binoculars
These holy puppet
Hands have got

My friend at Wal-Mart
Let me into the inventory warehouse
Where they keep the products
People kept returning
And I found them –
The Quantum Binoculars
Beautifully handcrafted
With seamless joinings
Glove-soft leather grips
Polished to a glisten
With a big red switch at the top.

Switch it left to Bourgeois View
And you see the world
As most people do
Through lenses of logic and contradiction
Happy and/or sad
Right and wrong
Young or old
Rich and/or poor
But there isn't enough room
In the field of view
To hold all this conflict
And when you look through it too long
Everything goes fuzzy gray
And your eyes start to cross
And you get the headache of the century.
Which is why
Everybody who used Bourgeois View
Wanted a refund for the binoculars
Regretting their purchase
Terrible product they would say
Never having bothered to flip the switch.

Flip right to Quantum View
And your headache disappears
As every person, place and thing
Pulsates with vibrant rainbow color
Brightening, shading, winking
Expanding and contracting rhythmically
In a hypnotic dance
And nobody has to purchase or sell
And the mountainous toy robot displays
And the Special Today Only neon signs
And the shoppers and greeters morph
And the milieu turns glorious.

Then you see
A tiny point of intense blue light
In the center of each object
And it grows and starts to spin
And the next thing you know
You're being pulled into the viewfinder
First by your eyes
Then your cheeks and forehead
And you think uh-oh,
What's going on here
And you're reluctant
To let the eyepiece
Suck you in any farther
But then you hear angelic music
And the blue lights
Crack open like supernovas
Revealing the infinite molecular structure
Inside everything you see
Electrons and neutrinos spinning
Atoms racing across the panorama
And you realize
You absolutely must
Take this wonderful machine home.

Imagine the quantum universe
Hiding inside Wal-Mart's inventory chaos
Calm and rhythmic
Instead of razory and cacophonous
Soft shapes with vibrating edges
Scenes arising and passing away
And you watch entranced
Mindful and equanimous
As the view transports you
Past the electric sliding glass doors
Into the auditory memory
Of your mother's soft lullaby
And the innocent tenderness
Of your first kiss
And the smell of the grass
On the last day of school
Before summer vacation
And images of big silver trout in clear water
And Jesus and Buddha and Mohammed and Rumi
Drinking lattes
In the Wal-Mart coffee shot
And they see you
And wave you over
To come sit down and chat.

So you ask your friend
How much for the binoculars
And he says
You really don't want them
Because if you take them home
You'll like it so much in there
That one day you'll let them
Suck you all the way in
And you won't come out
In fact
We don't know
How many people
Are already in there
But Wal-Mart optical department shoppers
Have been disappearing for months
And nobody can find them
And you ask
If he takes American Express.

Spying
Upon a lovely pair of tits

Gives me...


Pleasure

In the night of twinkling stars,

I spied over a gorgeous man.

I wish if he would be interested in me,

So I spied over him through the binoculars.



He lives across the window, and I am not so far,

Still I watch him through the binoculars like watching a migrant star

I don't want to keep him out of my sight.

No matter what I am doing is crime and is not right.



I sit and hide in the window curtain by the gable wall

Linger around for the night to fall

Just to watch him walking naked through the hall

That's the secret, and I am not going to tell you at all



I chuckle myself on what I see

And wonder if he is just like me

He jumps on to the bed naked

And that is what the interesting happening



So I keep watching him through the binoculars

And wish if he would be interested in me.

Surely,
There must be inumerous inadvertant staring contests happening
When haplessly gazing across the edge of the world
When, too tired to remember that the ocean has many shores,
One looks out seeking lighthouses
Made of curls braided into the backs of their head
As to not run aground,
Drown;
In the bottled reminders we endlessly toss at our own backs;
Why did you think the water gleams, undulates and winks
With so much meaning?

April 15, 2015

Everything looks better from a distance.

From far away we're fearless
And free from resistance.
Sweaty browed exhaustion,
Looks cool in the breeze.

Palm trees planted in my heart.
A paradisiacal coconut guillotine.

Wistful eyes turning counterfeits into truth,
Colorblind, grey water becomes blue.
Soul screams mirage,
But the animal's craving magic.

Postcards painted, stamped and sealed
The mind reflects ideals.
Everything shines with excitement,
When you're drunk on possibility.

In hidden heights, of window's sights
I've seen the people pass
Across the way a light shines on
A man paints, what simple ease
Two lights above, some people stand
No curtains mare their joy
Yet in between these lively homes
Empty is it's name
Not once did I yet see the sign
Of human life a flame

I'll wave at them and let them know
Watching is my name
Not a crime, or creepy act
No binoculars do I hold
And honored they should be
With lives so vivid and so riveting
That my attention, they have held
Enough to merit them a place
In writings to unfold