sand blistering hot
throat parched I need water
ah an oasis
where could it have went
it just upped and disappeared
it was a mirage
With God’s presence all around me,
Yet His gift is missed.
Unknown by many who surround,
Their blindness fills my heart with sadness.
For disbelief clouds what is clear,
How could they fail to see?
His omnipresence, bright and pure,
Hidden in the shadow of doubt.
His grace, a gift they need to hold,
A light to guide, a love untold.
Yet in their hearts, an unseen flame,
Burns quietly, waiting to claim,
God’s gifts.
The blind man is the one who sees most
the spiritual things...
he believes in what he sees...!
It is not a person who is born blind,
who does not want to see,
but rather out of convenience...!
I grew up blind
The kind that fades away with the gaping eye of knowledge
word on the tip of every patriotic tongue was independence
Little did my shut brain know, sham was a better word for it
The physicality was removed, that is certain
But ideas and creeds are still sung, venerating them
It’s as if our souls were trained for the job-faultlessly
Yet freedom is cried out from the fantasy of the beholder
How could it be that they quantify us unchained?
When the model of sophistication and elegance embellished
Fall in the wondrous sculpture molded of anything but our culture
Language is deemed "uncouth,” evermore forgotten as ancestral splendor
Colonialism ended to let on a superior beneficial exploitation
What better shrewdness than one concocted in plain sight?
We’ve seen their pockets outgrow them with our gold, our dignity
While we’re outran by their wars, and still, we grow old-blind
loves blindness caught up
boxed up in this mess of lies
I should not be here
suns blinding brightness
sends eyes soaring for cover
grabbing my blue shades
"drying tears of the afflicted, a mystical hound - "the dog of tears."
Reflections Laugh At Our Blindness
She cool love's great fever
In with shades of true hope
What slides with whisperings
From the quiet edge of dreams
Therein she seeks to know
Secrets life has yet to reveal
Truth deeper that beauty's shine
Or sexy maiden's perfections
That which holds wanton desires
Or mysteries told around campfires
In her heart rests more love
But to whom, nobody knows
In Mother Nature's smooth pools.
Reflections laugh at our blindness.
I am not just a blind man
Because I cannot see
The essence of my being
Is not blindness
It is me
an owl in daylight watching sky and sea ~ blind to the light spread about
LOVE BLINDNESS
By Tapiwa N. Maseko
It is really true
That love is blind
Because there is no clue
Used to bind
Two hearts and not three
Into one good bond
That makes the most eluded
To be the most wanted
The one with defect
To look so perfect
Yes there is no clue, rather than blindness
Of great love
Something peculiar with the defect
Sometimes it does not have eternal impact
The defect is understandable
Because in some cases it is curable
When your blindness halts
When your love evaporates
It is the time to regret
The choice for you did opt
When the love from your heart vanishes
All the feelings turn into ashes
Like they are in burning furnace
From your lover’s face
No more you see beauty flashes
But the scars
That your heart deters
Swimming in the sea
of spectacular
totally full to bursting
Completely realized
when being nothing would be so easy
Flying on sound
orbiting up
with no idea of ....a purchased landing
Emboldened by want and need
Surreal
as merely beautiful men will never know
Flying solo in a lightless.... world
Thrilling to your own notes echoing back to you
off ceiling and walls
knowing the vibrations of greatness in your cells and atoms
in the goosebumps of your own skin
walking out
to the heat of the stage lights
to the murmurs and movements of so many
The first time
hearing but not seeing
believing but not knowing
Hoping... desperately
or not even hoping
That first time
a connection...a conviction ...a gift
The grit of pure Courage
80 years since I was born,
now in old age my sight is shorn
but in a cruel world of pain
there’s hesitation to complain,
for always standing at the door
are worse examples of life's gore.
I had my time to view the joy
to start ascent when as a boy
I first climbed paths to those high peaks
where love in life continuous speaks
even in my shadowed eyes
shines light in memories under skies
Because of you whom choose to live
your lives in willful blindness,
whom know inside you’ve failed yet
still expect a world of kindness,
whom weren’t there to show you care
although you knew it mattered,
well now our whole democracy
has cracked and nearly shattered.
How can it be that those whom choose
to live in willful blindness,
yet somehow they expect to find
the world still filled with kindness,
that they think they can live their life
expecting all their choices,
and never think the time will come
for them to use their voices?
The rights we think we’re born with
were never truly ours,
What’s here today can be snatched away
when the will of the people cowers.
As willful blindness keeps our courage
neatly tucked away,
It’s hard to watch how everything goes
from bad to worse each day.
The time has come for Americans
to rise above and see
turning away will only serve
to destroy our democracy.
Perhaps if we were focused more
on seeking human kindness
we wouldn’t see these darkened days
of stubborn willful blindness.
~Jeannie Cronin
Related Poems