Evil Eyes

With coal dust in your myopic eyes
You see warped, distorted images

Like reflections in carnival mirrors,

The surface of disturbed water,

Or the cave of a polished spoon.
Seeing with a visual apparatus 

Slick with a film of judgment 

Perhaps renders your discolored, 

Tinged view of my world and me

To yourself most sightly.  
But, how long will you bear to see nightshade where there actually bloom roses?

Serpents where there actually stand people?

Relieve yourself of that judgmental culture, your cataract, your coal dust.
Do yourself a favor: wash your eyes and see,

Behold the beauty that is,

Rather than contriving an ugliness that never was. 


But All Men Judge

Judge thou not, and be not judged. 
Your eyes, though they see as much as

A shadow from the viewing side of the screen,

Are shoehorned to be self-blinding searchlights that

Seek and see what is not shown, not showcased. 
Your tongue its bearer’s estate will not soil,

But will let loose a volley of venom-tipped arrows 

At the defenseless repute of another,

An ivory fabric you motley with black words and scarlet. 
How do you, a closed museum of dark secrets beneath this veil of flesh, 

Conceive yourself fit to pronounce the idle verdict?

Even the white-wigged hammer-pounder’s judgment can be flawed. 
Judge thou not, but all men judge.