"Aye!" said the eyes of his I's, "'tis crowded in here!" "And one of us is missing one," says the William at the bottom. It could be tangled behind the hair--or perhaps--and this makes more sense, actually--he shares an eye with the fellow next to him, a brilliant manifestion, in this simple sketch, of the importance of the Third Eye.
Excuse my wacky interpretation. What can I say, I see eyes in trees.
I enjoyed this one. The more you look at it, the more you see. Keep 'em coming, William. :)
I’m afraid of the great reckoning, having to see ourselves when all gray walls collide and every dark oppresses… comfort me, beckoning blindly to any help, protect me from having to decide myself from my impressions.
Copyright 2005 - Evolving-Poems 1965-2005, Gary B. Fitzgerald
Indeed, John — we three live a strange life, especially while the others are sleeping — and of course there are always those too impatient to sit for their portraits.
9 comments:
"Aye!" said the eyes of his I's, "'tis crowded in here!"
"And one of us is missing one,"
says the William at the bottom.
It could be tangled behind the hair--or perhaps--and this makes more sense, actually--he shares an eye with the fellow next to him, a brilliant manifestion, in this simple sketch, of the importance of the Third Eye.
Excuse my wacky interpretation. What can I say, I see eyes in trees.
I enjoyed this one. The more you look at it, the more you see.
Keep 'em coming, William. :)
.
I’m afraid
of the great reckoning,
having to see ourselves
when all gray walls collide
and every dark oppresses…
comfort me, beckoning
blindly to any help, protect me
from having to decide
myself from my impressions.
Copyright 2005 - Evolving-Poems 1965-2005, Gary B. Fitzgerald
Ah, yes, Annie — right you are about the shared eye. And thank you for keeping an aye on my drawings.
Gary, your poem is a delightfully apt illustration of my illustration. I dare say it’s one of your best.
O Sole Mio
A self-portrait
implies a
single self, at least
for the time it is being
done, while you
William
give us 3
selves
looking 3 different ways, a
trio
me me me O
Indeed, John — we three live a strange life, especially while the others are sleeping — and of course there are always those too impatient to sit for their portraits.
I love the musical twist.
Sincerely,
Do, Re, and Mi
Shelter
is a variant of a movement, ancient
when a single being, up-ended,
—flung with thumb-pulsion across!—
a momentary cry,eye-wide
that makes you harder
Another good one. That last line is the nail that sticks this poem to the wall.
I aussi look into my own
eyes w a bent towards the
phunnie
http://edbaker.maikosoft.com/pictures/art009.jpg
now
since growing my
long-white beard I see things more
clear-less-ly...
under every leaph:
just another kami!
your sigh-t/site much to my liking
http://edbaker.maikosoft.com/walk_thru_2007/00007/2.html
Thanks, Ed.
Hey, I like ’em both — reminds me of when the relatives get together.
Just linked to “Bare Bones Bonze” in my “Reading Room,” may your reputation withstand it.
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