"ocular" poems
On a night I feel has been well lived
met is her sweet becoming gaze
that savory ocular innocence
built to shadow her soft, fluid, longing intent
that whispers,
"I am open to you."
And so she calmly is
and with my head
full of rocks and irrelevance
I unconsciously enter
and sigh
Once, again, twice more
our love traces a metronome
So soon does it become
an inhale
exhaled
I lean into her
limbs aside
in a love extension
a vital push through tension
and the small red brook that follows
flows to fill a page
and rest a mind
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 6:38 PM UTC
He doesn't need Intra Ocular Lenses,
To dismember my defenses.
Without a Stethoscope,
He can hear my heart,
He won't have to take an MRI scan,
To know where to start.
He won't need to inject a syringe,
To romantically unhinge,
My every multiplying cell,
Into a palpitating craze.
He won't need a lubricating gel,
To ****** and amaze.
He won't require to operate
Nor investigate,
Me from head to toe,
To plainly know,
That I'm besotted,
my insides knotted,
My better sense clotted,
In deep rooted feeling,
Of immense love.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC
Haven't you heard.... love cures all things?
It seeps into your veins,
burning through each layer
like its a second skin?
Its a once in a lifetime connection....
even rarer should you be bestowed
and granted to meet your twin flame.
Silence is comfortable,
beauty peeking through ocular view.
A vision so refined, it caught me breathless
As I stare into her eyes, i see a reflection......my soul...
*"Welcome Home" she whispered,
'Time stood still while i waited for you"*
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 2:36 AM UTC
Plumped rouge with pigment
her lip fills to graze the ********
intent to disquiet the likes of de Sade
autografted with ocular detachment
should a Marquis wish to harness
the song of the morning
within a bandolier of Seine
to ensnare any bustled Persephone
gilted by discharge of ions
into a ménage of torment
through the Porte des Lions.
Hers is the tincture of doxy
caramelized and debrided of naivety,
empowered by the eve of invention,
swollen to curves and grounded in Paris.
Illumination defies pervasion
down to every gear and pulley
she has hushed through mechanization
and lulled by steam,
swaging a cacophony of flickers
encased in glass by the Lady’s watch,
where every rivet of her plate glisters silken
reverberation in cascade,
elegant, caged, and towering,
outspoken in silence,
ever challenging the Champ de Mars.
"Paris by Gaslight," written by Dionne Charlet, is the title poem to be featured in the upcoming steampunk anthology Paris by Gaslight, the third anthology in the By Gaslight Series from New Orleans small press Black Tome Books. Look for the first two collections of poems and short stories set in Victorian Times, New Orleans by Gaslight (ISBN 9780615801186) and Cairo by Gaslight (ISBN 9781516961528). Both collections feature poetry by Charlet, under the pseudonym Dionne Cherie.
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 2:44 PM UTC
avenue sounds are never agreeable, ignore the drift,
ignore the hum,
ignore the suburban neophytes in the city lights (I never did care much for hipsters).
ignore rapid eye movements, the flush red face, ignore the snapshots of you that adorn my semi-sleep state
I stare at my ceiling and see the cobblestone summer streets you once graced, long ago in the eternal occident, I want to ignore but I’m so very boozed, in a blue lucid slumber:::
eyes closed::: my head spins and sleep begins with the tidal delirium of dopamine drips, your legs, your hips, I’m drowning a bit, doused in a sanguine sweat inside a fantasy **** I’m dreaming of you**)
Synaptic friction
she is a pleasant fiction
flash/sparks segue a dormant memory ,
the two of us riding familiar highways::: she gazes at me with her usual emerald encased ocular torment, those limbal rings cast aspersions at the last vestiges of my will power, until, I’m done, done in by the divinity of her lips:::
There is no end to (your) energy
It even finds me here::: in my dystopian dream (eternal)
now
an inescapable, **myopic curse
(nocturnal)**:::
the nightmare of not having you near
Awake, I roll over to clutch for the pacifier of your comfort (violent midnight)
I find only a fragrance,
i flail, searching, when those flashbacks fall short
isolated into the banality of bedsheets and pillows pleats
(the retrograde nature of my reality, now readily apparent)
cdh
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 12:28 AM UTC
The Night Draws Near,
An Age Of Endless Despair!
Our Toils Would Spurn,
Our Ocular Lids A Drowsy Lot!
The Moon Rekindle's A Shadowed Sky,
Birds Of The Air:
Owl Who Knows, Crane Who Talks,
And Fire-flies,
Their Lights They Shone!
The Night Draws Near,
The Drifting Cloud Spurns Sour Breeze;
Adrift The Lair Of Open Windows,
Caresses Men With Blissful Treats;
Where Milder Soothing's Would Her Morning's Loath!
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 8:09 PM UTC
i remember the taste of my own blood
fondly
i remember my broken nose bone fellating my own
grey brain-mush
and how i could smell my own
ocular nerves
and my scattered smile
like a third period hockey player eating
a puck
and glancing at his mother in the crowd
i remember a moment suffering in the opposite of blindness,
and a canadian wearing a sombrero and chinos holding a guitar
i remember high testosterone levels
and blurred vision
i remember what knuckles taste like
and how bone feels against bone
but he remembers it too
he remembers how concrete tastes
and how embarrassment runs
like blood to the head of a man hanging by his feet
he knows the conclusion of concussion and
how much a hospital visit for a broken arm costs.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 12:35 PM UTC
Aching flesh calls
To aching flesh
Chests touch
Lips compress
Part
Wet tongues intersect
Clothing shredded into tatters
And scattered
Hesitation abandoned
Nails on hot skin
Lips leave marks on necks
A patchwork of red and pale
Never fail hips
slip inside
Two become one
As the fervor increases
Pheromone aura releases
And a story is added to the tower of pleasures
Vibrating
Pulsating
Slow rhythmic thrusting
Clasped
Grasped
Connected in four places
Pleasure painted faces
Individual palates blending
Pulling apart and separating
So that eyes can lock in ocular embraces
Unification of purpose
Invisible bonds reinforced
As tremors cascade from fluid cohesion
One thousand demons scream in the ashes of a dream,
As one, that were two, become Legion.
Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 10:53 AM UTC
Ocular examination
You've established your authority before the fire even leaves your lungs
I'm fed up with this loneliness
This falsified romance
I'm not your transition
Your experimental love
I'm constructed from the same fabric
But you still insist on shredding threads
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 1:10 PM UTC
Look how I care
Look how I pour
Look at what I share
Look how there's more
Look at the newsfeed
Look at internet ******
Look how people breed
Look at ISIS gore
Look at mirrors
Look for new wars
Look beyond years
Look at the poor
Look for your peers
Look inside drawers
Look behind you
Look down at the floor
Look nothing's new
Look at the front door
Look for the parts
Look inside your
Looking-glass heart
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 5:24 PM UTC
Can you settle for more or less if today was your last day
And what would be your retort if you were denied another chance?
How life introduces sobriety and the impending inevitability
The interstice and it’s ingress that encloses before your eyes
The demanding pouring of importune time
That soothing allaying sighs that evoke incalculable alleviation
If someone were to impart as they closed their eyes
As they died with a commital of happenings with not enough time
As to burden you with the impression of only one chance
It would seem and with the impending inevitability
Of your death which would subito compromise the day
A bearding contrivance plight of obligations engagement and commital no alleviation
An abecedarian dossier concealed for a long time
All this time the inevitable coinciding incident only for your eyes
The emotional habituation was of quotidian rendition each day
Of how trivial things take us on a dance with only one life one chance
With your attention and awareness on the answer the inevitability
Of what you are becoming with each passing second for each
Thought which transpires and no alleviation
Is there an epoch a replicating limn a depiction of our linear time
As we perpetrate and pursue progressively for our alleviation
Engaged to staying the course the day
Stirring closing in on our deliberate objective determined chance
Which remained for a terse duration from the inevitability
In which at the atrium of this erstwhile portage of a duvet to belabor
To stifle firsthand with your eyes
The variant from this domicile from this residence on a day
Is the vagabond to perish in yonder with no alleviation
Once man was a brute dullard or a curmudgeon spinster at a time
Which offers a mute disconnection ragged miscreant the inevi
Naivety or absent mindedness to somnambulist and its silhouette
Notwithstanding change
The quagmire and it’s nightmare the ingrate delighted with coined
Shunned eyes
Reputation with a flagrant obscene defilement galvanizing
The alleviation
At the heart of this lies another chance
A precocious inevitability
A man who lies to die another day
The annihilation in desperate want for from those argent eyes
To the starving newfangled optimism which in its sheen
Shines sunshine dulling the ocular orbs of time
Forwithal in befuddlement remain here
The time if infringement to comprehend the volatile vertigo
And the inevitability
The harrowing of hell
Glance at the shinning suns in her eyes intention considers change
After you heal and left are the cicatrix
Will you plunge further for alleviation
Or on the intent of regression once again
From long ago to another distant day.
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 9:20 PM UTC
Today it took me two hours
twelve markers
half a roll of paper towels
and seventeen redos
to fill a whiteboard at my place of work
Today I counted steps
in the sidewalk blocks as I walked
1
1, 2
1, 2
1
only having to backtrack and repeat
twice
Today I stood in the tiny wooden doorway
of my apartment's fire escape
for the entire duration of my cigarette
terrified to step foot on the steel grate
all for fear of the lightning in the distance
because after a brief ocular inspection
I was so certain
that there is no god ****** way this building
is up to code in that regard
Today I couldn't help but wonder
what ever has happened in my life
to once again trigger
these neurotic thought patterns
that plague me from time to time
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 3:13 AM UTC
Lo, the stars
Twinkling and winking
To the vocal violin
Lo, blooms of rose,
Pink and plump like the satin
Caress of an autumn eve
Lo, crackles of fire
Warm and invigorating
As a Soul in ocular radiance
Lo, vines alive
Sunlight embracing,
Moonlight dancing.
Lo, the Miracle
Entangled with reality
Yet wondrous inexorably.
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 2:01 AM UTC
overcast
i pull on the day brightly
mine it at the maternal sources
and form a radiant :
a bloom from within fledgling elements
illuminant grenades
and the sky is peppered with characters
it's a wild play of childness
an old world whimsy
of 'here be monsters'
and shiny scrapbook havoc
the compass steps in
and with the turn of the globe
scores the horizon
clouds and the aviators
are combed into the soft crust
a spiral quilting
to cover the gift of a dream
given by one thirsty visitor
who stole it lightly
from the prism
of another travelling dreamer
God knows what'll grow
if there's a pillow fight
a deranged rain of innovation
perhaps some fiddly creation
will fast take over this world
and it's lover other
with the sky allied and fraudulent
we can host an early night
the stars (in strand)
prattle the ocular sense frontier
all constellations are like a single ribbon eel
never quite nourishing
upon its own thoughtless loop
a corduroy display
overcoat
Nov 27, 2021
Nov 27, 2021 at 9:55 PM UTC
In the corner of my eye
at the top of my neck
just about
almost maybe
sometimes
I'm positive
there's a subtle message
floating in the dust
sent by God
telling me
These Things Do Happen
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 9:52 PM UTC
Three sisters of foul prophecy
sharing one tooth and one ocular oddity
A great hero came entering the sisters cave alone
Wanting to inquire the whereabouts of the cursed stone
The hero requesting information for what he desired
he ransomed their eye for what he required
Being threatened the sisters gave the information he bequeathed
In returned he gave back the eye of which he seized
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 6:02 AM UTC
*"Ocular migraine
leave's crystal light,
searing pain, blindness
as the vision clears
here comes more pain.
If you never experienced this
you are lucky.
I am 1 out of 200 people you might know
who have these types of ocular migraines,
according to the internet and my doctor."
© By Amanda D Shelton
*
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 3:40 AM UTC
We started out being cheap,
but being impoverished eventually saved us...
It became a fad,
almost everything did.
Whoever had money,
would spend things to make themselves more connected to the singularity,
more tapped in.
We were all suffering from information addiction,
looking for our next fix.
Likes were a thing of the past,
we didn't just want digital affirmation anymore,
we needed to feel more powerful.
Of course this was just something we created in our mind because we saw others gaining this perceived 'power',
of course if you can,
in your mind,
research,
copy,
paste,
spellcheck
- everything a computer could do,
you would seem more capable of a human,
but in reality,
once you left your mind's energy up for just processing power,
you were nothing more than a machine...
some of us let our minds go entirely,
favouring searches and what is already known to fill in the blanks for our own exploratory research.
Mods weren't cheap.
But so many people were willing to pay for convenience.
- mods help us think,
they can schedule our lives.
- certain ones are just cognitive enhancers,
basically a microcomputer that knows which electrical impulses to fire in your brain for improved cognitive functions,
muscle controls or even releases of certain chemicals (serotonin)
- Others are just things like ocular mods (contact screens)
- Viruses are terrifying.
- New wave of humans who choose to be 'fed' - near braindead. Enabled to know made unknowing,
allowed to follow,
sometimes the struggle is necessary.
Reporter
main character either snaps back into reality or
overpower systems with willpower
she sees past the hiccups of self
and knows how to command the bots
break it down, robot girl,
make the demons dance for you,
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 5:58 PM UTC
Dear Stranger you've shown me the earth.
Not as I see it but as you do,
An ocular rebirth
You asked me if I'd like for a moment
To look through your spyglass
The one you hang on a chain above your heart
And see through tinted lenses
That refract tainted beams of time
The mountains you saw as a child
And thought holy.
Well, I do
I'd like to see that and more,
If you'd let me stay a minute longer
If you'd let me take shelter in your arms
Till nigh on the horizon looms the golden shore
Till the final notes are played
Of the song you heard as a child
The one that taught you how to smile
And quietly we'd keep awhile
As society's engines run wild
I'd wrap your head in flowers
To remind you of your existance
Your momentary brilliance
As the petals lose their form
And ease into sleep
Against your skin
We too would be freed from this world
Locked in our treehouse
A temple we built
To the gods alive in our bodies
A honeycomb house
Made of chambers
Identical to those in our hearts
We'd live there too.
I'd be a river
And you'd be my name
I'd carry promises
Like stones from the ocean
Downstream to be yours
We'd be the unlikely meeting
Of opposing poles
And we'd wear the smile
Of their newfound friendship
Like a coat
To protect us from the winds
In the eye of the storm
When all we can see
Is spinning too fast to hold
So we wouldn't try.
We'd sway to the push and pull
Of the wind
Like waves that wash away
The most magnificent of castles
Into millions of pieces
Waiting to be reassembled.
We'd whisper secrets like songs
And the first one would be
"yes"
Jan 27, 2012
Jan 27, 2012 at 6:55 PM UTC
The Rose That Grew From A Crack In A Concrete
Black Rose That Grew From The Fertile Roots Beneath
Out The Crack Of The Earth
Blossoming Into A Fashionable Valuable Flower Of Worth
It's Not Impossible To See It's Possible To See The Rose Passion Of Thirst
Roots Planted To Be Phenomenal An For Search
Ones
Before Me Laughed At The Illogical Joke
But Knew The Astronomical Growth Would Be Abominable An Uncommon With His Philosophical Approach
See I Breed Off Diabolical Emote
The Detestable Weeds I Choked
It's Inevitable To See What Heretically Was Wrote
I Blossom And Bloom
Even In The Darkness Or Gloom
Wanna Rob Me With Doom
Ima Tsuanmi Typhoon
Purest To Water
You Can Tell By My Posture
These Thoughts I Can Not Harbor
Smile On My Face But Inside My Eyes Is Trauma
Don't See The Darkness In My Ocular
I'm Simba Trying To Be Like My Father
King Mufusa
Rose From The Concrete But I'm Just A Little Darker
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 12:59 PM UTC
My life as seen through my oculars
yes, all the exacts and particulars
sights rolling back in my memories
faces and places and things
full of the meanings
that brings
Seen through the eyes of a pessimist
a true cynic to a T, speaking honestly
but as I peruse what means more
her face and her eyes in my mind
I don''t look too far ahead
her eyes what I miss
All the time
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 12:37 PM UTC
Her brilliant ocular orbs persist beyond the occasional glance
averting my focus just after her curious stare brings a gentle smile,
beckoning for our distance in the room's expanse to diminish perchance
as her heartening gestures attempt to avert my stance from sessile.
The magnetic pull of this inspiring scenery tugs me from my position
each forced step resisted as I cross the floor towards this distraction,
every warm, reassuring nod has filled my arsenal's ammunition
and causes a craving to quell the disturbance that has forced my reaction.
As her fingers delicately caress her soft lips I swiftly turn away
she knows not the consequence that her simple mistakes would bring,
I gather all my strength to fight the magnetic force enticing me to stay
leaving this alluring siren with nothing but her song she sings.
Though drained of will I flee with a vivid memory of what will never be
a siren so pure should stay near the shore and never reach the depths of sea.
Jan 26, 2012
Jan 26, 2012 at 10:08 PM UTC
Beautiful, is the sight of depths within one’s eyes.
Like Celestial bodies magnified in the confines of the ocular speck.
As if Nebuli birthing Stars, revolving around a Blackhole,
or that of a storm circling the pockets of Gravity.
Who can escape the entrapment of wonder, as they look within?
Curiosity like the peaks of the great Pyramid,
staring afar the belt of Orion - a child-like pondering.
All who see it, imparted with a glisten of glee - the ecstasy of hope within.
Apr 28, 2019
Apr 28, 2019 at 1:51 AM UTC
I see the photo, synthesis
Emerging from cold ashen ground
Ocular chlorophyl against
The vast blue sky
I hear the tiny buds assembling
Gathering their artillery of sun and water
Ready to paint a spectrum of infinite hue
Over monochromatic concrete
I petal to a sanctuary
Of a thousand birds in
Rhythmic flight,
In space of serenity
And feel the tight tug of my blood heart
That beats in synchronicity
Like the gentle wave of a butterfly wing,
I plant myself beside my eternal Love,
To rest in our amaranth garden
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 9:07 AM UTC