Cold Eyes

Those cold eyes
staring blankly
through the heads.
Stuck, secure, and uncertain.
Hiding from what's true,
and what's not.
The pen, smooth and undetermined.
Too proud to be
too long to see
the cracks that smile
      between
those stone-cold
blue ice eyes, like a lake
in Alaska.
Between the bannana peels,
and the hand that quivers.
Stuck between
the teeth and jaws
       of time.
Laying, unsuspected
under a white, scruffy shoe.
Never ending,
dragging on and on
      and on.
Dripping sincerity
melting from
purple, green scaled skin.
That long hair,
black as night's star-scattered robe,
flows into a fan.
Spins, and jumps into the awaiting jacuzzi,
      bubbling
pink, blue, and orange puss filled bubbles.

As those cold eyes
     disappear,
they swirl
into a vast vat
of stamped-out
     bottled up
strung within
on a 5-cent line
and gets squished
under millions of
bare, innocent feet.
And then those cold eyes
see those horrid
feelings
        and
           turns
              them
                  into
                    wine.
Those cold eyes smile,
turn to the sky
and ponder life, 
                  for a while.