We are all blind,
even those of us
who can see
with our eyes.
We are blinded by:
the incandescent light of day,
the thundering sound of darkness,
by what we take to be knowledge
and also ignornace,
and by what we believe is real and right.
Every word we use colors our world,
strips it of its shapelessness,
robs it of its completeness,
and separates it into pieces
that we struggle against
to find a meaningful connection for ourselves.
All poets are blind.
Ask any one of them,
and they will tell you
they cannot see
past their own verse
and the hideous curse
it casts upon them.
We are all blind,
even those of us
who can see
with our eyes.
Stop worrying about
what your eyes can and cannot see,
and just open your heart.
From there, you can see perfectly.
Click here to hear me read this poem.
Also, see the post immediately below.
Poetic Alchemist 
Poetryman…Loved your poems. Sorry you were caught in my spablocker for a couple days. Thanks for sharing them.
Thanks Dan. Stevie Wonder? Perhaps. A great talent no less as a singer and songwriter, and I suppose a poet.
Nice!
Ummm… Stevie Wonder?
Borut…thanks for stopping by and sharing the story and your personal situation. May you be blessed with sight forever. Your dream is quite powerful.
This reminds me of a story about a blind Sufi teacher who could miraculously restore sight to others while he remained blind. Somebody asked him why? He said: I prefer the love of God to the personal pleasure of being able to see.
I have my own blindness phobias and quite real problems with my eyes. In one of my dreams, I walk blind through the narrow main street of the Old Town in Ljubljana, led by a hand …
The moon is gone.
She fled as dawn approached.
Dawn as a slowly opening eye.
White sea birds skimming over the water,
looking for an early morning snack.
The mirror brightens.
From a blood moon at dawn to a mirror
reflecting waking life…
#######
I woke her to take the moon.
Her campaign was swift and terrible.
Metallic and fierce.
Glaring up in the twilight.
But the moon was both implacable and unreachable
and in the end the war against the moon failed.
As dawn rose slowly from her bed, the moon slipped away.
But in the end, all that was lost,
was a little sleep….
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1 June 2007
Burning Moon
Moon Fire
Blood Moon
smoked Moon
Smoky Moon
Smouldering Moon
Rax…Thanks for stopping by and sharing your comments.
“they cannot see/past their own verse/and the hideous curse/
it casts upon them.”
-this is so true to how i feel, thank you for the beautiful ending
wise words rendered in exquisite language
Nasra…thank you for visiting and sharing yourself. Hope you are well.
Wow so much wisdome in here ..thank you for sharing