#pupil
Sensual black,
How dark you are,
Such a deep deep color
The night sky,
The pupil in my eye,
The camera I carry
My black crayons,
My black blanket,
My favorite jacket
In my dreams, so dark,
Lingering until I start,
In eyes that stare
Sensual black,
How deep you are,
Unlike the others
Oh my sensual black.
Nov 11, 2025
Nov 11, 2025 at 11:52 AM UTC
The pupil of your eye
is like a black hole.
please consume me with your pupil
and make me eternally yours.
Yes, I know
even black holes evaporate.
But fear not,
for I will evaporate with you,
into eternity.
Mar 21, 2025
Mar 21, 2025 at 3:51 AM UTC
Chali just wants attention
ignore him, i wanna show you something on my phone
simmer down Chali or you will be punished!
stop waving your arms around!
Chali just wants attention
ignore him, i wanna show you something on my phone
oh my god! Chali is on fire!
Call 911! Chali needs medical attention!
Call 911!
how do i do that? my phone is acting up...
Sep 12, 2021
Sep 12, 2021 at 6:40 PM UTC
A white flower
wearing an eyeglass,
her eyelash rolled
Like calla lily,
her bright beautiful
sciera looks glassy
like, brown iris and
chocolate pupil rouned,
Stood up
her face
Brighten the Android
phone is softly touching,
when Funda closed the
shop door, she turn
her face to me
and she said
Goodnight
Beautiful
Sep 12, 2020
Sep 12, 2020 at 7:30 AM UTC
During my lifetime, teachers have been kings.
Mr. Ellison, with his football obsession, dared
declare the Father worse than der Führer.
Across the hall, Mr. Summerhayes gave us life
lessons, like adults have first names too.
Paul was next in line. A stoker of fiery debate –
he painted landscapes on political wings,
propaganda and the bluebirds of South Wales.
He tried his best but Pete pulled me aside
when depression began to blacken my mind.
Bigger steps made things more complex.
But he welcomed me back to his class,
always asked how my mother was doing,
embraced my erratic emails and career plans,
until we lost contact after his retirement party.
Now I write this poem from a pit of shame –
a decade on and my destiny remains lost.
Sometimes I meet royalty again in the shops.
My head is hung and my words are cut short.
I’ll never stop trying to be what you thought.
Sep 8, 2020
Sep 8, 2020 at 4:44 PM UTC
entering a classroom that
is not a classroom
my pupils inside: i haven't seen them for a long time
i want them to listen to me
yet the pupils aren't listening; they don't (want to) perceive me.
all the time i look at them, they look into another direction.
they aren't rebelling or trying to sabotage my lesson;
my lesson that isn't a lesson.
it's an encounter between an older person and
younger persons who aren't young anymore but
who haven't grown up yet.
the pupils changed into beings-in-between.
i can sense that they have become independent.
the pupils don't need a teacher anymore;
they aren't ready for making a living either.
many teachers need to be needed.
most pupils want to be autonomous.
teachers will be disappointed by the end of a day.
pupils dislike school by the end of most lessons.
dear athena, that's wired. isn't it?
therefore we need to think about it. we need to ask ourselves:
WHAT has to be changed?
Dec 20, 2019
Dec 20, 2019 at 2:58 AM UTC
The whispers of tomorrow
tainted the marble walls as
the ones in the room painted
different shades and visuals
of their tomorrow.
The one with their hand jittery,
spine made of anxiety
stutter with their fear coated tongue,
the bouncing and rebounding words of
the chaos and panic of the heart;
the thought of uncertainty that
tomorrow dawns upon them.
As the word tomorrow is passed
on like a parcel amongst the ones sitting
the one with their pupils radiant
paints yellow and white
the hope a new day brings upon,
whereas the ambitious shouts
that she is a day closer to her goals
as she stands armored with passion and dreams.
The students have tomorrow
tattooed on their tongue,
a word that never comes
but morphs itself into the word procrastination.
But when it comes to me,
the moon dissolves into the sun
and the sun dissolves into the moon
as my yesterday, today and tomorrow become the same;
the shades of my life are painted all the same.
Oct 25, 2019
Oct 25, 2019 at 4:30 PM UTC
Do it.
Rip my heart out.
Crush it into tiny little pieces.
Feel the warm blood dripping off your hands.
See it losing its power and making its last beat.
Then.
Look into my eyes.
Look deep, Look closely.
Try to say the word.
Try to push it out of your mouth.
Feel it on the tip of your tongue.
You can’t, can you?
For you will see in my drained and salty pupils that it is too late.
There is no way back.
I dare you.
Do it.
May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 9:15 PM UTC
season yourself
look for something sweet
illusion to some
challenge your love
it was in your eyes
you new it was there
noticing the reflection off my
spherical bodies
where the pupil is the judge
retina is waiting
passing along the thoughts
poetic rhythm
unspoken words
discernment in the subconscious
scrutiny creeping in like salt
added to concrete
will eventually crumble
into a sandy foundation
sinking you into self doubt
for my thoughts remain sweet
searching for unconditional love
for it will only exist
when parallel
universes collide
with belief
for what you think is unimaginable
is imaginable
once you decide
control your own destiny
you’ll rule your kingdom
like tomorrow doesn’t exist
keep it dialed energy doesn’t lie
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 10:27 AM UTC
sa kalaliman ng iyong pagtingin,
hindi maarok,
damdamin ko'y muntik nang malunod
aking nakita, ang ‘yong pagkatao
sa'yong mga mata,
mga matang kay ganda,
mga matang nababalot ng kahiwagaan at pagsinta.
sa kalaliman na iyong pagtingin,
aking narinig, yaong mga salita,
mga salita na bago pa man sambitin ng ‘yong mga labi
ay narinig na ng aking puso,
na tila nagbigay kabuluhan sa damdamin
at nagdulot ng kapayapaan sa aking pusong balisa;
mga matang kay ganda
na tila nangungusap,
wala, ni ano, kahit anong salita—–
binasag ng ‘yong katahimikan, kaguluhan sa’king isipan.
sa kalaliman na iyong pagtingin,
mundo ay tumigil,
nabihag ang damdamin,
aking nadama, dalisay na pagkatao,
sa'yong mga mata,
mga matang kay ganda
mga matang nagrerepresenta, sa makulay na buhay,
mistulang mga krayola
na nagbibigay kulay
sa malamlam at matamlay /// kong pamumuhay.
© LMLB
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 7:50 PM UTC
A man of knowledge
can be learnt, even though taught.
For the teacher who
has forgotten there lessons,
Must learn new ways from the pupil..
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 7:47 PM UTC
my drama teacher told me when i was fifteen
you say ‘you’ when you mean ‘i’ if you know what i mean
she was right, she was right
what she said wasn’t a lie
she said stand up on the table
over there and close your eyes
and lean back, lean back
into their waiting hands
just do it, just do it girl, you’ve got to understand
this is life, this is drama, it’s a trust exercise
i refused, i refused to comply.
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
*An island of green
In the midst of a sea of white
A surge, a jolt
within white silence
The vapor
in the depths of the fog
A demon
lost in the clouds and hazy blue
Like lightning
Striking darkness twice
Scattered, her eyes of many colors.*
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 9:55 PM UTC
Out there with the shingled road
shimmering in the white sun
squinting into the periphery,
burnt ragged and raw retinas
dilation
out there in the slathering of sky
sleeps your soul
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 7:45 AM UTC
The day they told me you had resigned,
I went searching for you.
My eyes sharpened to find you
like two new Ticonderoga pencils
on this timed, standardized test of life.
I, your pupil,
felt desperate to fill in the bubbles
on this journey
to fill up my heart again
with answers to questions
I knew only you could
score & tell me were right.
But you never had exams in your courses
I should've known when you left,
that was your way,
your blessing
to write my dissertation
and live my philosophy out, for you,
You had given me love,
you had always seen what I couldn't;
my potential. Who I am, truly.
And that's why, from you,
I learned everything & could feel internal peace
for I learned my purpose
& in my search for you again,
great teacher,
I realized you had never left
and the test had never existed.
I will still always wonder though
where you went.
(c) 2014
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 11:18 PM UTC