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Caage Gaber Sep 2020
Tasting each flavor like abstract art
Smelling the slightest changes
Soaking the beat of sound in the heart
Feeling the keys and the how it arranges

Inhaling the crisp air of an ocean breeze
Caressed by tempos and harmony
The sparsest sweet aroma noticed by the ease
Stroking skin and sinking in lovingly

Drowning deep with tears flowing
The ****** tang soaking the tongue
Navigated by melodies controlling
Heat slicing skin and searing lungs

Each sense fully fine-tuned
Gathering the missing to advance
Using each process to overcome wounds
Yet still the wish for sight given a chance
I've heard blind people commonly have better senses of taste, smell, sound, and touch. Sometimes I wish I could lose a sense. Would I wish for its return or would I truly appreciate the world more without it? I guess I won't know unless it happens...
Jonathan Moya Sep 2020
The clean church Christ
hangs on rusty nails,
dozen-fold years
denied a resurrection,
tied to everlasting
pain and death,
heaven denied,
mortal redemption denied
because the flesh,
existing between hope and despair,
refuses the soul’s release.

The congregation
is dead to peace,
only knowing the scrapping
of their knuckles on the smooth stone-
dead to the light,
seeing only the night,
dead to divine comprehension,
dead to the angels hiding
in their coarse crosses
of common wood.

Outside the lamb
bleats in the snow
wandering unheard
in the wilderness,
fearing slaughter
more than charity,
wandering far from
their muffled mouths,
wandering far from
their questioning,
wandering far from
their sense of things.
Carmen Jane Aug 2020
You took your rays, you silly sun,
You thought you'd play a game
You thought that I would wait
Until you come back..

You did came back,
The second day
And I was still there
But, you just didn't recognize me
You shone your rays so you could find me
You melted glaciers for me,
But the more stronger your light,
The more blind you became
As I shone, too
Corey Boiko Jul 2020
I finally found a way
To tear my gaze away.
I read all day
In preparation.

Then my eyes blurred all kinds,
I was so used to type.

So I smiled,
Without regard to if
It was returned.

I saw my
Max Jul 2020
What does red look like?
Asked the blind man.
Red Is the feeling of the hot sun in summer, it's the colour of shame, and anger, but also the colour of blushing.

What does green look like?
Asked the blind Man.
Green is the colour of life, and forests. Green is the feeling of of a tangled jungle, and fresh flowers.

What about yellow?
He asked quietly.
Yellow is the colour of sunshine, and warmth, and smiles. Yellow is the feeling of joy, and friendship.

And blue?
The blind man asked.
Put your hands into a bowl of cool water on a hot day, that peaceful feeling is blue. The feeling of blue is when you are in a pool, or floating down a river. Blue is relaxation and peace.
Ces Jul 2020
Pondering existence itself:
mere deadweight for "success"
this narrative of the times
must be upheld as sacred

The religion of modernity is that
of willful blindness taken
as a virtue

or so we are led to believe:

that it is the mark of a healthy man
to never use his brain!
SEN May 2020
Two unknown persons
They began their trek slowly
ever so slowly
step after step over pebbles,
foot after foot left sand prints
small pools of  little starfish.

The lady turned and spoke to the stranger
“ I don't need my eyes now , there's no sound just the silence"

The beach stretched on and on
the shoreline is never ending.

The stranger turned and said
" are we not drawn onward, two of us, onward towards a new era "

They continue to walk
Hope in both hearts.
1st poem submitted
Aleka May 2020
I can see it...
It’s light...
My destiny.
I’ve finally reached it.
My suffering was worth it.
Now I can rest in peace.
I close my eyes.
The brilliant light,
Taints my blindness
Into a garnet red.
I take a deep breath,
And hold it’s welcoming hand.
My mind.
My heart.
My soul.
Are at ease...
As I fade into nothingness...
Fiona May 2020
You make me sick.
Defying the truth
And congratulating
The deaths.
You’ve ignored the signs
And said it’s ******* fine.

How many more will it take,
Until you’ll actually care?
Bodies will pile
Beneath your feet,
But the real killer
Is their blindness.

They consume every word,
Bow to their knees and blow you,
Violently risking safety
And hitting freedom in the face.
Since when was it
The American Way
To **** security?

I have no sympathy for them,
The ones who claim
An article of clothing is oppression.
Their guns will be fine;
No one’s taking them away.
But there’s another killer
Who could infect their cells,
But they don’t care.
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