The furniture gallops towards my legs
And I reach out to grab anything to hold.
The pride is on me once I thud the ground.
I manage to rise again, reaching out
My hands as desperate eyes, feeling.
The stairs like hyenas are next,
Ready to finish me off, they jujitsu-
MMA-grip toss me to the ground, even harder.
I rise again, more in pain, seething with anger.
God's punishing me for not switching on the lights!?
I guess, I'll just switch on on my traverse back:
The stairs and the furniture like puppy
And lazy kitten, just sit still. My punishment's past.
Tag Archives: light
The roaches are tangoing with the spiders, near a tavern full of bats, humming the melodies snakes taught them. It’s dark, and ghosts look on at vampires going from bat to ghastly human…and they are all conspiring to do one thing: GET YOU!
Did I just describe what your fear looks like?
When your heartbeat sits on the top pike
And your breath loses control on the broken dyke?
Breathe, breathe. You break into sweat clinging at your sheets in the dark.
It’s just a nightmare: soon the sun’s light will bathe the singing of the lark.
On his blindness by John Milton #writing201
On his blindness by John Milton
When I consider that my sight is bent, ere half my days in this dark world and wide, and that one talent which is death to hide lodg’d with me nearly useless…
I’ve been in specs since 14, but have been myopic from birth. Myopia being a strange condition in my environment (my gramma on the paternal side could thread a needle at 90), it was ignored until I couldn’t copy the questions on the chalkboard in school, and my grades blurred into the distance as my every experience.
I still remember my first glasses and the glee in me as I could see leaves. It was magic no other soul would comprehend: there they fluttered and waved at me, green and beautiful, each with its own character. Gone were the green blobs that stood at the end of branches. This poem from John Milton represents my greatest fear, and for having lived most of my life without seeing more than 2m on, and for having imagined doomsday as days without my eyes, the words ring deep within me. My consolation lies in the line where he states that it’s ok, one will find a way to serve God even in these conditions.
When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg’d with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide;
“Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”
I fondly ask. But Patience to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: “God doth not need
Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed
And post o’er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.”
Yes, I can also serve even without this marvelous talent we take for granted!
Where is my Map? #writing201 #lost #stray #pindaric #ode
You light the way that leads to my life,
Love on the cross shines down on my strife,
Saviour, my Lord, save me today,
Show me the way, Lord take my hand
I saw the stars the dark ones oh Lord,
And lost my sight, and followed the hoard,
Deep in I went, yes sought out the void,
‘Twas so devoid of Love in this land
Draw me nearer, Master nearer,
Draw a way to save what’s left today
Draw me nearer, Master hear us,
Listen and save your children as humble we pray.