Glaucoma

(Wish I had been seeing with these eyes all my life)

Clarity; the synonym of my vision, short of a hyperbole,

Stole me quietly and hid me in the thick cocoons of the world;

The weight chained to the feet of men, who upon death,

Were given mouths with freedom and purpose,

And names,

And honour,

And a soul.

Clarity is a concept of the uncloaked spirit that I chew,

With all my heart;

The flag of my method, short of salvation,

Stealing me quietly and hiding me between the legs of curses and blessings.

Yes...

Clarity is the antonym I equip to be whipped,

So I can forget the world whilst inside my pretty part-time pony.

Clarity is the noun endowed to name a thing called tears...

Tears as I mask in latex and spill my fears...

And bury it,

Inch by glorious inch, into the graves of many,

Into the birth of much more than they who die...

Into the birth of they who were born to die...

Into the birth of they who die to be reborn.

Clarity...

Yes... Tears...

Clarity is the name of a knife a.k.a. Tears,

That peeled the face, ridding it of its exoskeleton

To expose the steel mask of secondary defence.

Forged by hard times.

Rusted by soft lies.

Dented by being battery operated between warm thighs...

To spy inside the sacred feminine’s meek disguise...

When man is reduced to this,

Clarity is thrown to s**t.

Fed to the flies;

Who pitch on the fruits of men who had the world...

Chained to their ankles.

Who upon birth, had not the clarity to see the whips,

Ships,

And men like gods, white with the pale of death.

Of the future of this...

Clarity is the irony,

Hidden in the face of God.

Sheathed in His back turned to man.

Reviews

[Jason Henry]

i was convinced i knew your two favourite topics just by knowing you personally, but i get verification when i read your work sometimes haha! needless to say, it's another poem that i have to rate you with the utmost respect for. it sent me spinning for a bit, but i think knowing you personally gives me an advantage to knowing the machination of your cognitions. and even with this bias i like it even more! it's a stellar write and you ought to be proud of it.

[Emily B]

these words want to rise off the page, they need a voice to carry them higher . . .

[fireblossom]

Thank you Emily for sending this wonderful piece to me.

A classic poem is timeless in that it reaches hearts no matter when born. It touches subject matter that is primitive as in primary to our experience. This poem is classic for those reasons. From the narrators POV clarity came later in life but come it did. Eyes opened to the futile process of mans life on earth. Man without godly guidance guessing and experimenting and screwing up and living and dying. Oh to be the other side of God with clarity to remain there.

A wonderful piece of writing.

[Emily B]

I was missing you. Resigned myself to reading something a second or third or fourth time. Had no idea you had snuck this in. As always, I ask your kind indulgence, your words are too much to take in all at once. I'll process them slowly . . .