Thursday, October 21, 2010


(effect, vast, shimmer)

(The stars before a cataract operation!)

I turned my back on Myopia
The great goddess of the eyes,
And sometimes the thought occurs to me
That it wasn't entirely wise.
How I longed for normal vision,
The crisp outline, the clarity,
I envied those with normal sight,
Resented the disparity.
She warned me, yes, she warned me,
Saying 'If that is what you choose,
Pay heed to the glories of my realm,
Consider what you'll lose.
Think of the Van Gogh effect,
Seen through eyes that are dimmer!
Think of the vast expanse of  sky
And chrysanthemums that shimmer!
Think of the kindness of the eyes
That look on the human face
And never see the blemishes
That healthy eyes can trace!
You'll say goodbye to streaks and swirls
And a mistiness that enhances!
You'll say goodbye to each mirage
That in the distance dances.'
'What do I care!' I snapped at her
'I want clear and perfect vision!'
'Right!' said Myopia, tartly;
'Oh well, it's your decision!'
I turned my back on Myopia
The great goddess of the eyes,
And sometimes the thought occurs to me
That it wasn't entirely wise.



Bleach the colours near away.
Then delight in misty grey.
Remove the hectic startling hues,
The crassly crimsons, blatant blues,
Yelling yellows and grosser greens,
That dazzle and drown the passing scenes.
The advertisers may delight
In brilliance matched with startling white.
They aim it seems, to hurt our eyes;
Rainbow temptation in disguise.
'Buy me!' 'Taste me!' Aren't I pretty!',
Emblazoned over every city.
Yet, pause awhile, and look on grey;
The colour to steal your stress away.
See, above, a view of life
Devoid of all that strident strife.
Dive in and mingle with the clouds;
Forget those colour-conscious crowds.
Do you need blue? Then look above;
Clouds tinged like the feathers of a dove.
Do you need green? The distant trees,
Wreathed in mist, are sure to please.
Purple, merging into mauve,
Like an artistic treasure-trove.
Whites that lean towards the cream;
A hidden sun, with a subtle gleam.
Rocks that, somehow, have the knack
Of being black, yet not quite black.
Buildings, softened by a brush
That wont accept life's modern rush;
Buildings unpeopled and serene;
Nothing sordid, brutal, mean.
Unknown artist, I applaud you,
Every accolade I accord you.
You have gentled all my day
With that lovely colour, grey.


Jane said...

Beautiful poems.


Leovi said...

Great poems, sometimes we do not value the wealth we have in the eyes.

Thom Gabrukiewicz said...

I've played the "Which sense would you least like to lose" and I would have to say sight. I tend to taste with my eyes first.

Christine said...

I simply loved your Chrysanthemums. It was gorgeously done: crisp, humorous dialogue paired with exceeding wisdom. Even a nearsighted person can appreciate the truth in your words.

ms pie said...

taking sight for granted is an awful thing... thank you for the reminder... thought provoking grays i must consider... real estate

eyeography said...

Both the poems are so well written... :)
I love the first one more though...

Jae Rose said...

I love the repetition used to start and end your 'Chrysantemums' poem it really added to the message..thanks for your visit..Jae