I'm usually not much of a poet, but sometimes I feel this urge to put down words to describe a feeling or a thought that sets me on fire. This is one result of one of such experiences that feel like flames cursing through my body.
Blind
I get sick,
Watching colours rushing past my ears coming from hundred people and more
Out of their minds and mouths,
I can’t stand them puking a sound all over into too thin air
My head is empty,
I don’t hear their colours and words in myself
Left in a perfect silence,
I observe them crowding their gods and idols begging for a final requiem
Taking their hands into mine,
I help them from water onto mainland with my blindfold still on
Fallen countless times myself,
Every time I lift myself up I see no one standing in the harbour looking back at me
Important: I hope it is self-explanatory, but this is mine and I don't want to see it reposted elsewhere.
A bit of explanation about 'Blind'...
The first two stanzas are about my very own experience with autism. But at the time I wrote this poem, I didn't know a thing about autism. I'm amazed by the basic thoughts that they express, it's the deficit in communication, all that social business that never quite reaches my very core and the feel of being puzzled by other people, all that I now know is characteristic for being autistic.
(Edit) Another thing. 'Blind' mostly refers to the third stanza, but also to the first two. The title isn't supposed to express the typical negative meaning of the word 'blind' and the need to 'see'. It's about things that are 'hidden'. Some are hidden for me that others see and some are hidden for others although I can see them. The title felt very appropriate when I had finished it and I'm not 100% sure why I choose it.
Feedback appreciated. Thanks for reading.
12 Jan 2008, 4:31 pm
