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Aug 2015
The only way I can see
is by touching the world around me;
the faint scent and crunch to images
that linger around my fingers.

They are my hounds
who sniff and howl--
at the other animals around them
each crackle and groove
sends each dog into a frenzy.

Diving right into the riverbeds,
underwater is supposed to be where all is unknown
but right before the tips of my eyes are only questions:
is this the right land of water
where I can open the blinds to let sunlight flood in.

Reminds me of Rome
where pillars do not only stand in front of buildings,
they float into the sides of my body
ricocheting and piercing me at the same time--
the only reminder that this is a sidewalk
is the large crack that starts at my front door
and ends some where near an Oak tree.

Someone's daughter has gone missing
yet these hands yonder the forest to find her
seeking the essence of philanthropy;
but how can they expect me,
to find someone,
when I can't even see myself
as I'm mislead through the shadows of these trees.
Another random thought poem: I came to write a poem about something else but I can't remember what it is.Β Β Instead this came out about being 'blind' and how it would be to be a blind person in a world that only knows how to function with sight.
Michael Ryan
Written by
Michael Ryan  31/United States
(31/United States)   
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