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Leading the blind

J J 

Forty strokes forward,

 Fifty stokes back.

 Each dawning feels as rocks under my feet,

 bare as tree trunk rooted deep beneath.

 Callused and bleeding upon the waking retreating.

 The blinded atmosphere,

 replaces my crimson haze.

 My blue eyes replace the gray.

 Restless dozing as silhouettes dance among my shadow,

 and walks beside my reflection.

 As this ever longing presence pines,

 I'm separate from this inception.

 Which of my character will wash up?

 Belly skyward upon my shore of discernment.

 These dark stokes of my pen, sparks light.

 Even in my cellar, flooded of rueful rain.

 The voice of my sword ,

 rinsed clean and set out to dry.

 Despite the erosion of my heart,

 I become the tourist leading the tour guide.
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Submitted on October 09, 2013

36 sec read

J J Claim this poet

My friends call me JJ. I’m A word Enthusiast. A word -smith to many. I enjoy the dance between adjectives, nouns and pronouns. I enjoy the rush of verbs, adverbs, and Intransitive Verbs. I enjoy the metaphors that link the worlds between figures of speech an dialects. From disturbing acronyms to Predicative Adjectives. They keep my mind in this race of who is next on the totem pole of literature. I really enjoy feedback good or bad so bring it on. I will always out do myself. By the way the reason I right so much on death is cause I’ve experienced it in more than one way …so I write to get it out. I have a quote of mine I tend to fend" Manipulation is a face without a mouth, eyes without lids, ears without drums, and a brain without a mind. " please be kind and enjoy. Be mindful Not Malleable. more…

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    "Leading the blind" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 22 Sep. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/76475/leading-the-blind>.

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