Monday, 14 November 2011

The Unseen Eye

*Put on blindfold*

The last thing I saw before perpetual night. 

Was a lions figure in the clouds sketched into light,
So I guess a found the truth in time.

When it hit me... 

As black does.. 
Everything became smaller.  
Everything lost its order, 
my eyes began to turn to face & brain, 
and now I was a spectator watching the other senses game.

As my seeing stopped.

My hearing could pick up every decibel of a pin drop.

As I lost sight of my tears. 
My nose learnt how to smell fear. 

As my vision forgot how it behaves, 
I begun feeling the folds within waves. 

When I turned blind.
With no relation to anything metaphoric I was able to taste bitterness.
and for the first time in a long time, 

I told the time without seeing it.

Truth be told. Time was saved. 

I did not have to close my eyes to think any more, Nor did I need to close my eyes to focus.
and you may not know this, 
but I've been told that once your inner eye has seen your inner self, 
you find peace within.

So now I will hide away. 

Basque in the glory of my ones with self. I will eventually accept, 
and grow to reverence my lack of physical sight. 
With time. 

In my blindness I will learn to rejoice,
Even if it was by force and not by choice.

By Sophia Thakur 
Follow on Twitter: @SoundWordsmith

Saturday, 12 November 2011

Life-Span of a Shadow (edited)

I'd like to Marvel at what  the street-lights see
The comical outlines of it's shadows,
Tripping & slipping into street-fights
Street-Nights are profound..

We are
Bound by a two dimensional shape
Walking with us without a sound,
But thoughts drown it so it turns to

The clouds hang on us like a bad smell
euro-centric attitudes & ego-centric dudes
keep us in cyclical delusion 
 spiteful smiles caress our mind into a false abyss 
Forever Lost in a definition of bliss
The proof, is in your shadow..

When the sun rises, death capsized the soul of the shadow until another night
Orange lights give off the sense of fore-shadowing..
As the author of life scripts our existence

show resistance & we face a painful truth

Tragic shadows paint the picture of pain, flashing turquoise off the wall, blinding sight & the ability to hear,
We'd be lying to ourselves if we said, we had no fear.

Some will say they're Simply shaky imitations, but then what are we?
Concrete validations
filling the spiritual voids in our soul
With dark, black holes,
Wandering aimlessly with us..
But with careful reflection
We won't slip into nothingness

Ever pondered the Life-Span of a Shadow?
Simplistic minds attribute it to light reflecting off an object
inquisitive minds however, abject..
Perhaps they've seen, the consequences..
When man chooses not to reflect..