Francis Duggan Eyes Poems

It bothers me a little since his eyes i can't see
The bloke wearing dark sunglasses who is looking at me
The windows of his soul from the World he disguise
There are few things more strange than a face without eyes
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Through different eyes difference we do see

What is beautiful to you may not be so to me
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The mirrors to his soul he had chosen to disguise
As he briskly walked my way in his face without eyes
Behind dark shaded sunglasses from view hidden away
Though the morning was sunless and the sky gloomy gray
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Though an oldie going on eighty taking selfies every day
That self admiration is not ageist only does seem true to say
Self images she does not like from her smart phone she delete
She is only one of many enamoured in self conceit
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If you wish to see ugliness this is all you will see
This is how it is and how it always will be
And those who wish to see beauty have beauty in their eyes
We see what we want to see this i realize
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That beauty is in the eyes of the beholder remains true today
The old bloke in his eighties his hair silver gray
Can only see great physical beauty in his aged wife
Though her physical appearance does tell of one of a long lived life
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Beauty is in the eyes of the behoder as some does say
And relevant to the individual it does seem this way
Some see beauty in another person some see beauty in a flower or a tree
Beauty has many faces is how it seems to be
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The human will to succeed in the face of adversity never ceases to surprise
Three years old Jacob Nowak from Millstreet the child born without eyes
About to start pre school and in life progressing quite well
His story if written in book form millions of copies should sell
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Only in the accumulation of money he seems interested in
I am doing quite well financially he says with a grin
The one who lacks in compassion and empathy
For those doing it tough he feels no sympathy
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So many to become invisible without success have tried
From Big Brother's eyes there is nowhere to hide
His disciples tell him where you are night and day
From them you can never hope to hide away
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In big Brother's eyes a great success in life
Yet he finds great pleasure in beating his wife
But such bad behaviour to little amount
They judge you far better by your bank account.
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On many things we choose to disagree
The Government that is good for you not good for me
That's how it is and that's how 'twill always be
Through different eyes a different World we see
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Her shoulder length wavy hair dark as the wing of a raven one down to earth charming and wise
With a smile for to match her great beauty the woman with chestnut brown eyes
A tall young slim woman of striking beauty of her physical assets she does not seem aware
One can say nowadays her sort of person to say the least is very rare
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We must beg to differ it does seem to me
Through our different eyes we see things differently
If we all thought in the same way how boring we would be
Variety is the spice of life would you not agree?
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You hang in there in life's battle though the going for you is tough
But to say the least you feel sad to know you are not good enough
To be rated by Big Brother as one who has achieved
For being a battler recognition as of yet you've not received
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To the good you must only be blind if you only look for the bad
You condemn the son or the daughter for the sins of the mum or the dad
That everyone is an individual you do not seem to realize
And you only can look at others to what's known as negative eyes
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In her early thirties so gentle and wise
The beautiful woman with God in her eyes
I feel that I did speak to a living saint
A person on canvas an artist would love for to paint
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My accent seems too heavy for most to understand
And I'm still seen as a foreigner in this great Southern Land
But in this the Bunurong Homeland there's great beauty to see
And this vast Southern Country is home from home for me.
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It would not take an Einstein for to tell you that the mirror to a person's soul is in their eyes
Unless of course you are wearing dark sunglasses the not so good in you not easy to disguise
Our gift of seeing things tells us more about us far more than anyone might realize
And sad to think as some of us grow older that from the years we have not grown more wise
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The eyes to the soul are the mirror with those words I could not disagree
I only see cruelness and hardness in those eyes that are staring at me,
The bloke who sits and drinks at the pub counter why does he keep glaring my way
Does he mistake me for somebody who to him has some debt to pay?
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Some people are false and deceitful and they live by their lies and their guile
They cheat and deceive other people and after about it they smile
And I know of one he's a conman a lower form of crook in disguise
And he is worthy of his nickname the one people call shifty eyes.
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I came here from the County of Fermanagh almost fifty years ago
From the Land of het and shamrock, small green fields and green hedgerows
Met a gentleman from Kerry married him and settled down
Here in Victoria Australia The Garden City Melbourne Town.
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We left Latvia as young children left with teardrops in our eyes
Mum and daddy took us with them and tearful were those last goodbyes
We left Latvia forever never ever to return
I knew heartache, I knew sorrow, I saw fire and Berlin burn.
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