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Partying Blind (Free verse) by poetry/poem101
Partying Blind. By Nathan Epkey One might come to the conclusion that life is all about gaining insight. Well, having been blind for 10 years now, I can tell you that sometimes that insight can me dark…. and in my case…. pitch black. I can tell by the movement in your chairs that I am making you uncomfortable. I am sorry. It wasn’t my intention to make you feel uncomfortable, I just want you to see, what I see…. There are three vivd memorys of mine that envolve me seeing clearly. I keep them up here and in here. To keep the storys as fresh as possible so I have recoreded feelings and sections of those storys in brial. It helps me remember, because I worry that one day I will wake up and have no recollection of my past. Anyway, the first story is about me joining the baseball team. When I was about nine, my dad signed my up for little league. I remember being really excited about it. My mom hated sports, but tried to be an active participant. Her idea of taking an active interest was co-creating an organization called the MAA’s, Mother against aggressiveness. They goal was to try and reduce the aggressive addittues that were taught to kids at an early age, and they thought that the traditional little league team names were too aggressive, names like Jaguars, tigers…they wanted mascots that were less aggressive, since we allowed girls in little league, so that the game was less about competition and more about having fun. So, when I was nine, I apart of team cross stitch. Yeah. Cross stitch, not a very intimidating name for a baseball team. Well...I remember the day we played team Sloth, it was on of thise days when it was a minute away from raining, and there was a invisiable buzz running felt in the back of peoples heads. I rememeber Scotty, had tripped while running the bases the prvious inning and I was going to sub pitcher. I got to the mound, my mom and dad watching…very excited, and I remember thinking that I was glad my dad made me practice a lot. Well I struck out the first two batters. The third came up and I threw him a mean curve ball…well…it was more of fastball that has no control. But the pudgy boy from team manged to hit it…hard…he sent the ball whipping straight toward my head…Well as you may have guess it hit me, and well….I was in the hospital for a couple pf weeks, and well…yeah. Lets see what else we got here…my second story envolves my best friend in high school throwing me a party. Me and my friends had always made a jokes of me being blind. It was kind of a way of dealing with the pain. My good friend Maurren threw me this party. It was a surprise birthday party, I was 17. I would like to say I saw it coming, but we all know that’s no the case. The party was a BLIND party. Everyone had to wear a blind fold, and on top of that, the lights were kept off in the house. This was her way of making everyone else feel akward, while I felt normal. It was nice. We played pin the tail on the donkey, which I don’t recommend playing when everyone is blind. Lots of people got hurt. We rented a new movie, and finally everyone understood why I always asked, whats she doing, what he doing. We finished up the games by playing hid and seek, which is a pretty hard game which no one can see. But the whole Idea involved everyone seeing ME clearly. It was the most thoughtful thing someone has ever done for me, not mention fucking funny, right? My third story envolves my friend, lana. Um…We like to go to eye care places like, Four eyes, Lens crafters…you know…and we like to get my vision tested. I know. We like to foold the doctors into thinking they have done something wrong during the test to cause my vision impairment. The last one was prefect. We were at the part of the test were they take this machine and this blue light actually touches your eye ball… Well after it touched my eye I jumped up and started screaming…omg, my eyes…my eyes….they burn!!!! The doctors face I am sure looked something like this ….and then he said OMG, I am so sorry I am sorry… Let me get some help….And then I started screaming…How could you do this…I have a full ride to yale…my furture was sooo promising!!!! Lana the entire time is saying…What about our children…what will happen to our children??? Wont someone think of the children. The doctor at this point goes to get help and we run out as fast as me can. I know, its wrong…but…damn, it makes me laugh. I remember going home later that very day and searching for my journal, so I could preserve the memory. I noticed it being really hot in the house, and assumed the fireplace was up and going. Before I could continue looking for it my dad called me into the living room. He sounded…drunk. I should mention that although I recovered from my vision impaitment, my father never did. He seemeed fine the first couple of years, teaching me brail and being supportive. But as other father’ s sons progressed in sports, in school, in life…I was lost. I mean I was making progress being blind made me revaulate when, what, and where I wanted my life to go. My parents tired to have another kid, my father wanted another son…one who could see, but that never happened. My mother became infertile and my father became different. “Dad, did you need something?” “You need to stop this.” Stop what dad?” “This whole obession with the past…you need to think about the future. You need to start thinking about yourself. No one is going to wanna take care of someone who has no direction, no one is going to wanna take care of someone who†¦is handcap…You need to be stronger” “Handicap? That is the meanest thing you have ever said to me. Dad I am trying, I really am. But its hard, you have no idea. I hear friends talking about college, and wonder, I hear friends talk jobs, and I wish, I friends people talk about love…and I hope…Dad, I only wish…I am trying…You know every night when I go to bed, you know what I do…I pray to the fucking gods that one day I will go to college, that one day I will have a job, that one day someone will love me…that they will really love me…But I need to move at my own pace. Dad, its hard to see the future when you cant see the present.” This is the part where I would like to say he both reconciled. But he….he threw my book into fireplace. And I went to my room and I…was still. And for the first time in a long time I saw my father. Not exactly how I remember him, but... I started a new journal…I know...This is it. The storys are not as clear as they used to be…but they are still there. I have decided to start dating. So, if you know anyone…tell them I am looking for someone special…well not looking….but…yeah…..

Up the ladder: The Grey Prince Of Gulls
Down the ladder: the ten two eight tide

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Arithmetic Mean: 6.0
Weighted score: 5.119203
Overall Rank: 5705
Posted: February 9, 2006 12:34 PM PST; Last modified: February 9, 2006 12:34 PM PST
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Comments:
[7] Ranger @ 62.252.32.15 | 9-Feb-06/1:14 PM | Reply
What to say about this...well for one thing it's a prose poem. But that's not majorly important. The last 4 lines really want to go...this is a poetry site, after all, and they detract from the end of the story which showed promise. However, it didn't quite live up to the potential it showed; you need to bring out the emotions of the events. I recommend Caducus' work for learning how to write emotive poetry without sounding whiny. Other than that, spelling and grammar, the usual stuff.
As first posts go, it's better than many.
[n/a] wilco @ 24.92.74.122 | 9-Feb-06/3:11 PM | Reply
Well, I got through the first paragraph, but it's my feeling that if you want me to do you the courtesy of reading the whole thing and commenting and voting in a serious manner, the least you could do is run it through the spell checker.
[8] god'swife @ 71.103.98.44 | 9-Feb-06/7:38 PM | Reply
The stories are interesting. I can't believe that any little league would allow such retarded names for teams. If you made these up, make up better ones. If you didn't make these up, than you should make up better ones. Right now this is just a little too cumbersome. I like the authenticity of the voice. It reads as if you are speaking directly to me and that's good. Maybe you can think about seperating these memories. Let each stand alone. Even if it's just with roman numerals or something. I don't really like the one about the optometrist visits. it makes you a less sympathetic character.
The title's good. you shouldn't annotate at the end. It's better to finish with a compelling image or statement. For example; 'for the first time in a long time I saw my father.'

Maybe you should be writing a screenplay. Actors love playing tormented characters. Blindness makes for good analogies.

One question, how do you use a computer?
[8] Glasseyez @ 204.49.132.47 > god'swife | 11-Feb-06/9:31 PM | Reply
Blind people have a special program that reads to them everything that is on the screen in an automated voice and their keyboards have brail on them.
[8] Glasseyez @ 204.49.132.47 | 11-Feb-06/9:45 PM | Reply
Yea I really dislike the MAA group( no offence to mother). But they are taking it a little too far renaming SPORTS teams things like cross stitch and sloth. Its like their goal is to baby their kids through life so they grow up gentle. What they don't take into consideration is that in doing that their children never have the chance to rise above, and that doing this creates generations of softcore pussies with "I am the center of the Universe" outlooks on life, never to be sucessful. Love the stories man, keep on truckin, it is nice to see that even though you are blind you have the desire to write.
[7] zodiac @ 66.230.117.3 | 12-Feb-06/1:18 PM | Reply
What's with all the ...? Or is that braille?
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