Sunday, April 26, 2009


Eyeballs hanging from the ceiling
Those who watch, but have no feeling
Do not care that we are dying,
Eyeballs with no tears for crying

Foolish, thoughtless, mindless beings
Do not understand their seeings
Just hang there from the ceiling, staring
With not hearts nor minds for caring

There is a set of eyes inside
Eyes unopened, eyes untried
Eyes to which cannot be lied
Filled with tears left long uncried

Through the darkenss, beyond the blind
Can inner sight save all mankind
Stop the hatred with one mind
Look deep inside what can you find

Close your eyelids, cease to stare
You will not see the truth out there
All the wisdom that you need
Is inside, but must be freed

A vision seeking inner peace
Balancing tension with release
Wishing war and waste would cease
In a world thats full of greed and grease

Centered breathing, shifting views
Tuning out the grinding news
Hear the whispers of your soul
Save the world by first being whole

Slowly carefully, find the strength
To bear this burden for great length
Let your walls fade into dust
Until their thoughts, upon you thrust

Thoughtwaves baying in your head
Guilty, hateful, worried, dread
If each of us knew all unsaid
The future would a new path tread

Here is a bit of what at least started as a grade 9 poetry assignment for English. I found it written on a battered writing folder from highschool covered in pictures of my friends and full of dog-eared pages of guitar music - mostly campfire songs. All my friends have so much hair.. well, actually I think Em has the same hair cut and Jason may have gotten shaggier looking since grade 11 - but all said - it makes me smile. I haven't written any poetry in a long while - unless you count the odd random bit of verse or a handful of haiku poems on this blog.

For those of you who are baffled by what the poem could possibly be about. Keep in mind that at this point in my life I'd read Heinlein's "Stranger in a Strange Land" a few too many times and that we all thought that the idea of telepathy was cool - I also liked drawing pictures of eyes - being one of a few things I could do and have them come out as a recognizable objects... Actually I should also note that the discontinuity of the poem has to do with the fact that it was written at several different times - I only handed in the first two verses and I'm not sure they had to do with telepathy at all... but honest, I can explain... I was in Grade 9!!!
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