self-imposed, Sightless - MINDed PoetsA Poem by RuseInexparadoxical phenomenon surround us as is the example of creatively blind poets' creationsI. strip all human flesh an’ we are mindinvisible spirit ethereal, in flesh encased
metaphysically: take a look with night seeing goggles also seen with infrared light, human form’s color yields either whitishness, whitish green, or reddishness and bluish race is skin deep, culture is skin deep, we are Human got off the same boat: Noah’s in his families’ genes left: Eden’s garden in the genes of our ancestors i’m given no grounds for respecter of, pertaining to judge of persons like you ’n me, transparent, have nothing to hide when we’re most feebly vulnerable under scope of truth willingly yielding to love other skin colored suits in our skin deep birthday suits even in light of skin browness, tanish, yellow beige, beautiful brown light peaches ’n cream, whitish pink in between without blackness, darkest shades of beautiful black earth tones all skin tones even pinkishness, derivative of lesser melanin of human skin pigmentation II. mind meets mind over transatlantic distances minus physical appearance only texted electrons transmitted e mailing, texting, cell phoning communication interfacing without facing another human or human face like with Prose meeting online never seeing physically being far ’cause may be geographically near yet light years apart near ’cause may be geo far yet close in Cyberspace electronically, not with physicality, still mind meets, walks with, dances with, breathes with, thinks ’n shares with: mind presence of one other, more others of: humanKind with whom you commune 'n grow with, yet vastly different than watching an image on Skype or Face Book anything with physical image like as on Tele VISION mystical phenomenon only for those Posting their Prose for Those whose Physical Image we do not see, purposefully, some prefer it that way III. enjoy sending, receiving commentary, traded pieces of writing noblest of human inventions for connecting with, trading pieces of thought trading feelings, things exceedingly valuable and precious, considering the intimacy involved; the mystery surrounds you and me, giver to receiver to giver, Meeting of the Minds trading emotions with prose be it flattered, angered, frustrated, joyed, or mix of blends of humans’ senses in the Written Piece all wonderfully human, Spirit psychically intuitively touching, interfacing Spirit akin to self imposed blindness, choosing bypass of pupil-retina-brain-mind mystery guess enchantment curiousity never really knowing or caring to know the other ever only meeting minds’ resulting outcomes: fruit of our minds = feelings writings poetry IV. all Poets’ Senses honed to ultra sharpness ’Cept for sight like a blind man’s hyper accentuated ability to play music instrumentation like to see with one’s ears by producing clicking sounds in the palate of mouth subconsciously, innately determining sonar Mind Interpreting distance of objects between the blind poet and objects like a psychic person gifted or ultra sensitized by physical or mental beatings drawing upon spiritual strength from within survival’s suffering stigmatic trauma, producing in victim’s escape, works of raw beauty, artistically like Van Gogh, et al, (you ’n me), paintings on canvas, paintings of human minds’ sensitivity by love in fellow humans, (animals too) like those who would quietly stand in place of others, (or another), endangering life for sake sacrificial of love like sacrificial time spent beyond drugery of life (existence’ demands) to create blindly in collaboration with other Prosers on Prose “there is no greater Love than one willing to die in place of another” there is no greater love of the poet than willing to write in place of others © 2015 RuseInex |
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Added on December 14, 2015 Last Updated on December 17, 2015 AuthorRuseInexFresno, CAAboutI was born in obscurity Outside a small country town’s limits In a plank shack I kept a few memories That come into my head That i still carry around That i visit now and then The dust .. more..Writing
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