Wednesday, June 03, 2009

Sight for Sore Eyes



author’s note:

Sometimes I think the key to rewriting a draft is to first remove all my favorite lines.
For example, from the poem below:
             “...every eternity
              eventually passes.
              That which can not
              be destroyed
              finally fades.”


MISSING VISION

Amazing--when I think of all
that’s invisible to me, all outside
the normal rainbow spectrum--

for that matter,
I know I miss
much of what
already is
available to me--

I don’t know what
I only know
that I feel
I’m missing.

A reporter once asked
Ray Charles
what the worse thing
about being blind was

and he replied,
“You can’t see anything.”

And yet absence
can sometimes bring forth
those incredible florescent monstrosities
found
in the deepest blackest
ocean depths.

But I can’t walk around
with eyes closed.

If I really want to open
I think I first need to see
what’s begging
for my attention.

To see the familiar again
is to see more
than what I already know.

To suddenly see
the familiar
fresh

--isn’t that what we call
perfection?

I think I avoid perfection
because Perfection always
seems too short a time

but also: the demands Perfection makes:
acceptance

--no exceptions: acceptance
of all...including
the impervious mid-range gray:
that dead gray of a day without fire:
a gray so flat you think
you’ll never feel
light again.

But after acceptance
I pledge my will
to penetrate--devour--
what only appears
impervious--

No, I won’t take “no”
for an answer--because I know
I won’t be able to see
more of what’s invisible to me
until I’ve finally swallowed
more of what
now blocks my vision.

© 2009, Michael R. Patton
earnest audio
new steps

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