"unsighted" poems
Not near-sighted; not far-sighted
Just blinded by stupidity
By rich inhumanity
Lack of love in society
Absence of insight; omission of outsight
Just censored curiosity
Loss of credibility
Condemned abnormality
Futures foresighted; actions unsighted
The past, no punctuality
Death by immortality
Buried from reality
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 7:33 PM UTC
Wailing walls, howling fences
Encaged and blocked by barriers
All smashed, sorted in security fence
Miles of humanity and flesh torn apart
Why is it that we can’t live together?
We bleed the same coagulating blood
Lined up and humiliated in alleyways
Paths of iron bars and imprisonment
My veins wringed, intensive torment
Mentally distracted, strained by grief
Settlement, conflicts and border struggles
Governance, religious trickles of disunion
The biblical birthright verses human rights
The unsighted straining peace settlement
Shadows of the peace blueprint screams
Ongoing reconciliation, milked in small doses
Whose home is whose? Subdivided in areas
Controls of disillusionment undisclosed
Unmanned checkpoints evokes fears
Revolving cameras tossed and turned
Bansky slogan “make hummus not war”
Smashes freedom to uproot and merge
Constitute and construct peaceful resorts
All horns blowing to collapse duality
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
He burnt away my eyes,
he said it would make it much easier,
to beg, so I traded it for fear.
I was a little above five, wandering,
on streets a motley of black,
may be not, but my eyes couldn't distinguish the lack.
People would throw coins into my glass,
burnt eyes led to anticipated pitying,
towards the miniaturised cauldron of the dire I lived in.
I went to my master’s garage during my perceived evenings,
my hands felt the swerves of cars and formed shapes in my mind,
and before I departed, I would leave my glass behind.
Blitzed, he would hit me at times I didn’t collect enough,
I wouldn’t run away, the known seemed less horryifying,
than to trip against invisible, in the trying.
I survived each day, stayed thankful for life,
unfair as it may seem, my other senses were in poise,
and I learnt to see through reflections of noise.
He took away my eyes, my dreams stayed invincible,
so I left into a world, incognito,
my master waited for me that night, never to discover though.
I couldn’t steal, so I continued to beg,
I hitchhiked to stores, for a loaf of bread,
but God resolved to bless me with a stranger, instead.
He put me to work, for food and shelter,
little did I know my pay was in kind,
the kind was love, against everything left behind.
Sometimes he read to me, stories with happy endings,
he bid me goodnight before he would move on,
a word I recently learnt, to not be an oxymoron.
He taught me to read in braille,
being blind is no excuse he adjudged to me,
he couldn’t return my sight, so a vision he gave me.
Every night I cried myself to sleep,
for the choking in my throat helped me to believe,
believe in my angel disguised, so I cried myself to sleep.
He gave me fortitude against the vice,
he gave me words, and the power it imbibed,
and he taught me to live, when I just survived.
Jul 21, 2012
Jul 21, 2012 at 12:39 PM UTC
Another passing car along with passing people
Headphones not loud enough as music paints
Uncovered sounds and distance.
Everything quietly mend but for quiet lights
Centuries already there as eyes only blink
Unsighted moments and distance.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 8:51 AM UTC
I am the offspring chosen to face our past
My grandparents could not cry and their parents could not grieve
Their gardens were empty and their stomachs were knotted
The twist so tight they sank into the ground while the walls rotted
Goodbyes were stolen, identities not built
Time spent living lives not truly felt
Generations before me, beneath me
They have chosen to lay in rest
But the burden does not remain away
Instead it sits with me
It is by my parents blinded rage or my grandma's quiet disapproval
That their uneasiness in their agnony is all of ours to feel
You see, this pain it demands to be seen
It engulfs the children, the lovers, and the sea
Embracing a storm trapping us into repeated beliefs
Legacy blinded by grief has no room to grow until we shed the layers of our mothers forgotten tears,
She was not allowed to cry but I shield her from uncertainty, the world is senseless but I sacrifice charting this land unsighted
Feeling this pain that has drowned generations before engulfs my existence
I scream into the dirt as I break us from this loop of silent agreement where survival is key
I bawl to my blood what they did to you was not moral and the lost mourns have been freed
Because I will always remember what couldn’t be seen is etched in our veins,
Our families blood is my blood that remains
My eyes may sting with ghost but I swore of an existence leaving the world less scorned,
My touch vigilant of the surfaces it reaches,
I welcome my future kin and sing him a story that there is a life worth living and it will forever be freed
Feb 2, 2024
Feb 2, 2024 at 2:11 PM UTC
each day is a poem the hours spell
each a chance for peace within ourselves
every line’s an opportunity for eyes without a bruise
but opportunities passed on just pass on through
time lost is a short road to regret
looking back is all a moment wasted begets
I can’t reach the clock to turn back the hands
I can’t reach back and have the time again
when did I become
so unsighted to today
when did I start to shove my spirit away
when did I become so anger-torn and frayed
when I forgot the pains that cut like a knife,
how regret and anger can burn a life
each day is a love song of a heart feeling well
each a love story the moments tell
every word a chance for our selves to be soothed
but opportunities shunned just slide on through
time wasted is a long fall into regret
longing for the moments lost and squandered and spent
I want to reach the clock to turn back the hands
I want to turn the glass and return the sands
when did I become
so naive to the gift of today
when did I start to throw opportunities away
when I forgot the pains that have been my strife,
the regret and anger that have burned my life
the sands, they only fall
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 10:21 PM UTC
**the deity was a ******* up minor god**
**his band of fans saw not the faker ***
of a deceptive trait he did so show
some were blind to looking at the real bloke
others more insightful thought he a joke
true believers weren't indoctrinated
they knew shams could be invalidated
never did he possess the divine glow
why praise the charlatan's counterfeit guff
of it there would be a perennial bluff
his godhead image did dupe the unwise
for these disciples were so unsighted
of him they'd be lastingly blighted
a pretender until his very demise
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 7:58 PM UTC
Winter Wolves
Last night i dreamt of the wolves,
winter wolves with icy eyes
hiding under the icy sky
they're eyes were like the city night
beautiful big and bright
One in body motion unsighted
one in spirit thoughts united
they are swift and graceful
Winter wolves with human eyes
Quickly into the trees
invisible beneath the leaves
This pack of winter wolves
the ones with icy human eyes
eyes, mysterious enchanting and enticing
some are misty like smoky lies
some are dark old and wise
some are blue bright and true
some are light young and new
as morning light
escapes through the clouds
their fur shines silky fur shines
gray like faded shoes
black sleek dark and new
snow white with eyes of blue
black as a night with no moon
Winter wolves with icy eyes
winter wolves that rule the night
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 8:23 AM UTC
I wouldn't actually forgive you for what you have done
doesn't that sound pleasing?
because for me a thing forgiven is a thing forgotten...
and you wouldn't want me to forget you....
i am gracing you with the gift of memories of all the mishaps you created ...
killing a part of me
awarding you a path of misery to lay yourself to follow
after all we all want something to look down on our ruins
rememberance is the essence of not letting your wretched deeds go oblivious
in a very confined space in my head
there's a door and there you
happily dance with my rage and torment
and i tend to ring the bell of that door every moment
I won't be the one that i once used to be for you
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 1:20 PM UTC
*Walking to you
With my unsighted vision
Quiet like the water
Inside a sleeping oyster.
The thought of us
Blinks with
Half lit blue's random dance.
And I keep moving,
Between the space
Of distance and closeness
Until being touched
By your dazzling words.
There I become the prayer
Mildly glowed
Reflecting the sound of
Your dreams.*
Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 12:23 AM UTC
The meadows sway under open sky
the bud of summer streaming wide,
oak cathedrals as proud as the blossoming light
to take in this merriment;
a pledge
of molten intensity,
where the silk robed maiden appears,
instructs the wisdom from her lips
unbinding the unsighted
surges this celestial ennoblement.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 8:20 PM UTC
And I am deaf too
and too dumb to speak
kind loud and slow
to your yearning ear
And also blind too
with distance unsighted
this burgeoning passion
too easily blighted
No language too pure
no dissonant rhyming
no sentence may capture
your precious flower
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 4:15 AM UTC
Here today, I see no wind above the horizon
That once had the will to fleet and stun all lives.
I am on my porch standing with my arms wide open,
To utmost nothingness but a faded sillage.
Urged to the weakness of my will to see a phantom,
That glided through cries and flattered its vanity.
I murmured not long before a beam pierced through,
To unravel a bend within the passage I nearly sunk into.
How an unspoken tale yearns to be heard,
By eyes that flipped through its pages recklessly,
But Oh! Crying out to the unsighted, would they hear
My words abounded with stillness?
Hanging onto unwoven threads of hope, is it true
That I would plummet to an endless descent?
Clenching my fists around an unattested spar,
Will I have my footprints marked again on home?
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 12:42 AM UTC
Vivisection of now sunken residue
even though woven in unsighted glares
She graces her surrounding with afterimages
of what was, but now only sees inwards.
All is witnessed without viewing reflection.
Perceiving the world through hands of oblivion.
Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 2:30 PM UTC
unsighted motions
eyes perceiving everything
white cain's silhouette
Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 1:37 PM UTC
and I am deaf too,
and too dumb to speak
kind, loud and slow
to your yearning ear.
and also too blind,
with distance unsighted,
this burgeoning love
too readily blighted
no language too pure for
your precious flower
no sentence to capture
our rapturous hour
dissonant rhyming
and unstructured versing
metaphoric tussle
empathetic cursing
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 3:16 AM UTC
If i could make a poem
of this day.
It would be quiet
still and contemplative.
It would talk of
calm acceptance,
of things unchangeble.
It would mention colours,
grey, green and snippets of blue.
It would allude to the
opinion,
that sometimes, we just
have to wait,
until the skies clear
and then tommorrows path
lies set out before us.
It would whisper of hope,
faith and walking unsighted, blindfolded, through our lives.
It would sigh and politely
state, that time is fleeting
and we must begin,
to take care
of precious moments.
It would silently wrap me
up in warmth and love
and kiss my lips in adoration.
I find i don't need to make
a poem of this day.
For that i have you
my love.
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC