EYES

By Richard E. Noble

I love this poem, not so much for the poem, itself, but for the circumstances that precipitated it.
I was standing in the dollar store, at the Tallahassee mall. My wife was shopping and I was in my usual daze. I was in one of those pensive, contemplative moods that most would associate with a state of depression. I had withdrawn into myself so deeply my thoughts were echoing inside as if I were in a cavern. My eyes had pulled back so far into my head that I felt that my vision was being obscured by the bony rims of their sockets. There was nothing and no one in this store or mall but myself and a blur of lines and colors, and a background of discordant noises. I associate this state of mind with an exaggerated state of concentration. This is a serious state of 'gonzo'. It can last for hours, and even days. Edgar Allen Poe discussed a state of mind between the unconsciousness of dreams, and the consciousness of waking moments that he described as a creative state. In any case, I was either daydreaming, being creative, or descending into a state of depression, when I felt this pulling and tugging at my sleeve. When I looked, there was this beautiful pair of concerned, loving eyes; a pair of eyes that I had never seen before in my life. They were smiling, and then they spoke... "Are you all right?" They questioned. And suddenly I felt warm and alive once again. Were these simply the eyes of 'beauty', of a transient human being, or were they the eyes of a transcendent thought, the eyes of the soul of the universe, the eyes of God, possibly? Who did they belong to? Where had they come from? Why did they care about me? For days, and then weeks afterwards, I saw those eyes and the lovely, smiling, concerned face that surrounded them.
She was nothing more than a nice woman in a department store, her face a bright flower, in a world of blur and haze. She was startling. Since that time I find myself looking into a good many more eyes and more intently. There is something there. Even in cats and dogs and birds. It’s something magical. And oh, how I love the ones that laugh and that aren't afraid. They're a needless, want-less phenomena, that sing with a spirit so beautiful it's blinding. A spirit that can make one wonder if all this world isn't in fact a delusion designed solely for our personal intrigue and entertainment.
And so I wrote this poem about some of them.

EYES


Eyes!!!

Excuse me, please? ... and a hesitant smile,
with a pair of eyes like that of a child.

Thousands and thousands, all cloudy and dark ... mysterious
and frightening.

a pair in the park
a life in the dark
a dollar a pair, for
a cold blank stare
a sheet of glass
a child's 'whoo-ray!'
a sexy stare
a menacing glare
a molten hate
swooning, on a swinging gate
a dripping tear
a wanton fear
a pair to love
and another to hug
a pussy cat
a vicious rat
a disappearing cold
with a pair to hold

Eyes!!!


She is nothing more than a pair of eyes,

cuddly and warm, powerful and strong,

wonderfully bright ... heartbreakingly wrong,

the power of poetry, and the wonder of song,

and when they don't see you...

...life is, ohh ... so long.