'The Poet Is Blind' by Damon Mahoney

'THE POET IS BLIND'



The poet is blind
Didn’t you know
He sits on his chair
Watching the glass before
It is filled with light
He is cold and alone upon
The contoured shadows
Against the wall
But he is alive



He is like candles in a corridor
With golden warmth in his cheeks
Over the lines
Of his naked physique
Were he to speak
You would find that your lips
Were full of tears
That could not fall
That would wash across your face
Against the insides of your cheeks
With an adorned sort of agony
For he is beautiful
When he is silent
But he is dangerous when he
Recites words



When he looks away from the window
And into your lens
Like a carnivorous animal
About to snap some delicate
Creature’s neck
He is complete
And it becomes too much
You want to crawl up
Inside your black camera
You want to hide behind the straps
Because he is naked
And bared and complete
And it is his world
You are just a lens
You are just a circle of glass
With a flash



You are just a man who
Creates light and shadows
Across the features
Of the poet and he is speaking, now
He is screaming at you with his
Javelin eyes
But you are backed so far
Against the brick wall
That you will never fit him in
It all
And all you have to do is remember
That the poet is blind.

DLM 7-14-10