Monday, January 26, 2015

Wandering Eye

How could I have a wandering eye,
when mine are always demure,
almost falling into my tea like sugar cubes?

I claim nothing;
no opinion, no item, no gesture
as my own--
I borrowed this hat,
these gloves,
this face with its serenely docile expression.

However, underneath 
like a forgotten marker,
is my skull, twinned with socket-blanks
and the moths that emerge and expand by wing and instinct.

Relax, dear Master.
Everyone admires your wool suits,
your silk cravats,
and your cashmere sense of entitlement.

On the other hand,
no one sees or suspects the devouring flutter I unleash from concealment
without a word,
without fanfare,
without blinking.

for Magpie #255 


TexWisGirl said...

'cashmere sense of entitlement' loved that.

Kenn Merchant said...

Feel free to express yourself because that is when you are truly happy. Besides, I think it is better to let your colors shine.

Jinksy said...

no one sees or suspects the devouring flutter I unleash from concealment

But what a punch it packs! :-)

Berowne said...

Beautifully apt response to the prompt...

Maria said...

I like the idea of silent, unblinking, unleashing.

Lolamouse said...

It's the quiet, meek looking ones that are often the most dangerous.

Mama Zen said...

Tex already quoted my favorite line. But, I love it all.

Kay said...

loved all the textural qualities and images this conjured up!!

Theresa Milstein said...

I like where this one ends up--"devouring flutter."

Karen S. said...

Almost falling into my tea like sugar cubes, just the first of lovely images. Beautiful.

Jim said...

Sounds good. Those moths that emerge and expand by wing and instinct should never be forgotten or lost.

My wandering eye is perfectly innocent. It generally ends with a smile and generally a little wink.

Cloudia said...

' your cashmere sense of entitlement.'

oh Yeah

[pulling for your pup

ALOHA from Honolulu

Kathe W. said...

ahhhh that sense of entitlement!

Björn Rudberg said...

Silence is never acceptance - still too many believe so,

hedgewitch said...

This starts off with a strong image, understated and almost subtle, soft as those little fuzzy feelers on a moth's head, then it flies off into some toothy cashmere-consuming comment on the way things really are--almost two poems, really, one of self and one of the other alien world that must leave a moth rather hungry for the light and the taste of good wool.

Anonymous said...

interesting view !

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I remember the years when my eyes were downcast, my mouth silent. While I plotted my escape! I too admired the cashmere sense of entitlement.

Tess Kincaid said...

You had me at the tea and sugar...always a treat when you show up... said...

**almost falling into my tea like sugar cubes?**

Love this image.
Love your words. xx

ninotaziz said...

devouring flutter I unleash from concealment?

the whole poem takes me away. Someplace unreal.

Susan Anderson said...

Second stanza is my favorite, but I like it all.


Poet Laundry said...

Wow. That title alone...dang, you are so good.

Carrie Van Horn said...

Amazing how you can take a photo and make it your own. Brilliant as always!!

C. Sandlin said...

oooooh--this is another poem that makes me want to find out the rest of the story.

The Grammar Queen said...

This is glorious. I love stanzas 2 and 5.

my heart's love songs said...

oh, you evil little vixen, you!