Often poetry is enough.
But sometimes I find my mind
Occupied by other stuff.
I see young women in heels
Slippery as eels.
Like eels they slip away.
Though some stay.
A moment in time
Caught in rhyme,
When they have gone away.
I once met a very bad lad
Who said, “your poetry makes me sad!”.
I said to him “Moore!
You are a terrible bore!”,
As I soundly beat that bad lad!
The eternal wind roared last night
Bringing thoughts of Wuthering Heights.
No Heathcliff threw open the window
Imploring Cathy to come in .
Yet I felt the storm grin.
How quickly the lights
Of pubs and clubs go out.
And the reveller’s shout
Is lost in wind and night.
I heard an ugly sawing sound
As an old oak came down.
It was the tree or the wall
That had to fall
So the old oak had to go.
Looking out my window
I see another ancient tree
Looking back at me.
It’s greenery gave me shade
During the recent heatwave.
This tree was here long before I came
And may well remain
When I am one with wind and rain.
But all things fall
In the end, however much we pretend it is not so.
This tree will go
And another grow. Well, I hope tis so.
As I sat by a blazing fire
With the squire and his housemaid Moriah,
I said to her, “Rose!
You are wearing no clothes!”.
She said, “yes! But my name’s Moriah!”
I once met a very rude ghoul
Who insisted on calling me a fool.
I said, “if you persist
I shall call an exorcist
And then we’ll see whose the fool!”
I met a young man named Lear
Who dragged me around by my ear.
I gave him a clout
Then, with a great shout
I fed him to hungry Miss Rear!
I have developed a very great passion
For a young lady who loves fashion.
Her name is Miss Lou
And she wears 1 shoe.
Which she says is the latest fashion!
As someone who is registered blind, I was interested to read this post on Life of a Blind Girl, entitled “As a Disabled person I don’t need fixing”, https://lifeofablindgirl.com/2024/11/17/as-a-disabled-person-i-dont-need-fixing/.
In my case, I was born fully sighted. However, due to a blood clot on the brain I lost the majority of my vision at approximately 18-months-old. As Holly says in her post, disabled people have different experiences of their disability and diverse perspectives as regards whether they wish to be “cured”.
Holly’s article particularly resonated with me as I’ve frequently been asked whether there is a “cure” for my visual impairment. As with Holly, I don’t spend most of my time wishing to be “cured”, I get on with my life.
A couple of weeks ago, I was in a restaurant when the waiter asked me whether I had a “helper”. I do, as it happens, pay someone to clean for me. However, this is down to my dislike of cleaning and the fact that I would rather spend my time (when not working at my day job) socialising with friends, reading and, of course composing poetry! It is not because I am visually impaired.
The waiter was a nice guy and I spent time explaining about my disability, the fact that I have a fulltime job and live alone and am to all intents and purposes independent. He did, I think, get the message as the next time I went into the restaurant he asked whether I had been working.
Were I differ from Holly is in neither being proud or ashamed of being disabled. While Holly states that she is “proud” of her disability, I am neither proud or ashamed. To me being disabled is simply a fact of life along with the fact that I am a poet.
Please do visit the original post which is well worth reading.
Kevin
A crow laughs
As I traverse the lonely path
Of aching lust,
Where autumn leaves turn to dust.
K Morris - Poet 