Blinded

The real drama begins after the show is over.

Oh blind, blind, poor man . . . no eyes, no sight

Tell me, were you blind from birth?

-- Oedipus at Colonus.

 

the curtain falls on an eventful life

of struggles and strife, and a

blind journey through the dark

mesmerized, the world watches the fall

of a meteor, eyes and mouths agape

hearts and minds trembling in awe

 

once we've spoken our lines and

carried out our ignorant deeds on stage

another play begins behind the heavy

curtains of our eyes that let no man

scrutinize our pain, or the smoldering

ashes of once brightly burning passions

 

a private spectacle is staged by desperation

viewed by gods that sit on high seats

in the dark: silent, unmoving, hard-to-please

so we play on, and this time with conviction

with real tears flowing from the black

holes our eyes and hearts used to be

 

Reviews

[Lorry]

I often wonder if more people's last words where something along the lines of "what have I done with my life?", as we see we have lived a blinkered life, always thinking there will be more time to sort all those niggly loose ends, but of course there won't be and that moment when life escapes us will be the truest moment of our being.
I like where your words took my own thoughts, to remind me that I've got a lot of s**t to clear up/ make up for and.... I'll get right onto it, after I make another coffee 😊

[Laz K.]

"What have I done with my life?"
Indeed, a vital question. Scribbling some words on paper almost makes me believe it wasn't for nothing...:)

Thanks for your thoughts, Lorry.

[barleygirl]

Since your poem was posted a month ago & you aren't from the USA, I doubt if this message could have anything to do with our politics. But, as we are perched on a "new era" after an exceedingly disgusting epoch, it's hard not to read many of your observations into the way we're feeling about turning this page of a new presidency & hopefully a drastically new direction! Your poem also reminds me of the futility of it all, the way one administration seeks to scrub out the preceding one, over & over, as time marches on. It's a mind-numbing progression of BS, as your poem rightfully suggests (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Coyote Poetry]

When light become darkness. What are we?
"once we've spoken our lines and
carried out our ignorant deeds on stage
another play begins behind the heavy
curtains of our eyes that let no man
scrutinize our pain, or the smoldering
ashes of once brightly burning passions"
The above lines can stand alone. The burning passion of life, of love. Need constant gifts of hope to keep alive. Thank you Laz for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[Arundass TP]

Wow, powerful words. Beautifully written.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Once he blinded himself with the brooch, he saw more than he ever did before.
How sad that at his end he finally found wisdom, but at what cost?
Fate is a circle and it definitely comes back around to either befriend us...or rend us.
j.

[Laz K.]

Thanks for your thoughts, j.
Oedipus is a powerful archetype for sure. He is us: the arrogant young man, blinded by his ignorance, and then the wiser old man who finally sees although he's (literally) blind.

[Judyf]

I could learn a lot from it.
Your poem is amazing.