A poem called Blindman - pipTalk Forums

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scuffedshoe2
Junior Member

since 2003-08-04

Posts 39

0 posted 2003-09-09 12:18 PM

The colours pour forth
from the eyes of the blind man

they paint the images in front of them, unique invisible design

an intricate puzzles...the world they know around them
this is a wrold we'll never know
...

the blind man runs in his dreams
and in his life crawls standing

his destination is unknown
but he paints his way
to the destination the he so desires
leaving behind him
for his eyes only to see
via memory
a more colourful, and apreciated worl then we'll ever know

can he design a heaven
or perhaps a hell

can he paint joy into his journal of sturggles

what colour is sex i would ask
had i the courage to inquire

i cannot mock a blind man
he has seen clours no drug can present
he has dreams that no one else can understand

so i build you a stage
in my mind as i pass you in the street blind man
for you to stand upon and look out
at the faces in the crowd
...

i build you this pedistol to stand on to see
all the is in front of you
and behind me

my version for you...of the world i knew
now that i am thinking of joining you

the blind man smiles as i pass
he knows i am there

i lift my had to wave
but stop after mild hesitation

he cant see me

i take the pens...one in each fist
i point them at my eyes
and hold them in front of my face

i sit at this dining room table
i sweat and dream about the magic inside the blindmans head

i take in a breathe, thick with smoke
and i throw my face forward

will i dream the colours you do now?
will i see what you see?

can i paint my world as well as you have
blindman?

will you guide me?

BluesSerenade
Member Patricius

since 2001-10-23

Posts 10549
By the Seaside

1 posted 2003-09-09 03:51 PM

the blind man runs in his dreams
and in his life crawls standing

Not necessarily, it takes a tremendous amount of courage to walk in the dark. My Dad might have hollered and screamed at me for leaving a door wide open, a mistake I only made once, but believe me he never crawled anywhere.

his destination is unknown
but he paints his way
to the destination the he so desires
leaving behind him
for his eyes only to see
via memory
a more colourful, and apreciated worl then we'll ever know

I especially liked that part of your poem,
and the guidance that is learned through the loss of ones eyesight.

Loved your poem for reasons of my own. Thank you for this.

scuffedshoe2
Junior Member

since 2003-08-04

Posts 39

2 posted 2003-09-09 04:05 PM

thanks

-ian

Marge Tindal

Member Empyrean

since 1999-11-06

Posts 42384
Florida's Foreverly Shores

3 posted 2003-09-09 09:54 PM

Ian~
I've read this several times today ... waiting to absorb it all to reply~

This is so poignantly beautiful~
You touch a very tender side of me with this write~
(and somehow I think you already knew that)
Thank you~
*Huglets*
~*Marge*~

~*When the heart grieves over what it has lost,
the spirit rejoices over what it has left.
- Sufi epigram
noles1@totcon.com

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