Posted in poetry

The blind mans board…

Once upon another time,
I ran into a friend of mine…
Who told a tale of a wandering blind man…
With stories beyond both tide and sand…
& this is what he told to me…
It’s up 2 u,
if u believe….

He told me of a gipsy girl,
Who swallowed many bitter pills…
He told me of her journey long…
Places she went…
things that went wrong…
places where she knew…
She didn’t belong…

Here are the words the blind man said …
Which remain forever inside my head…

The pack was shuffled…
The board was zet…
I’m ready 2 spread …
the blind man said…
&
…onlookers shook or nodded their heads…

R u ready to hear the story they tell?
They tell no lies, there is no spell…
U must be aware & very clear…
On All u hear…
4 what they say,
may b what U fear…
U may miz in terr pit…
U may not under stand…
all contained in the hand.

The first card turned,
where it began…
A pupil with lessons
eager to learn…
Will she listen,
Z or hear ?
Sing & dance
or run in fear…
Will wisdom come along the way?
or…
from the path will the pupil stray…

5 swords were drawn … card no 2…
A warning,
this the pupil new…
a lesson learned or maybe not…
mistakes…
so easily forgot…
4 in defeat & victory…
depends on through what eyes U C…
& what’s pursued.. or gained 2 easily…
Can sway the balance of the feet…

Next the 3rd fell on the board…
A flaming tower ,from which flames poured
standing strong, & full of power..
Yet cinders in how many hours???
But, winds of change…
can bring the rains…
that quickly douse the highest flames…
& new foundations can be laid…
& the piper can b paid …
4 the seeds that he has spread,
In both deep & shallow beds.

Card no 4…
the pupil swore
9 cups upturned the contents poured…
pleasure & fun times by the score…
But when reversed,
a different view…
1 the woman already knew…
Careless thoughts,
lost sentiments…
Tears & pain
& sad regrets…

then..
3 of swords card 5 of course…
told  tale of the gipsy girls remorse…
Steps taken, stumbles & falls…
Hiding behind masks…
& windows…
…& walls…
debts encountered ..,
yet 2 b paid…
Promises fulfilled…
& some 2 b made…
lessons learned along the way…
2 lead her on 2 better days…

Next swiftly turned up 8 strong wands…
the gipsy’s journey… carrie’s on…
no time to loose,
goals to pursue…
Uncertainties may cloud the view…
delays confuse…
& doubts disguise…
the truth that lies behind wise eyes…
& stormy sky’s with darkened hues …
can easily distort
the boards whole truth…

& So upon white steed appears…
& handsome friend,true & sin sear ?
but warnings ring out from the shore…
with every tide that ebbs & flow’s …
in which direction should she go?
4 everything has got it’s price…
who or what the sacrifice…??

& with 9 swords the line was drawn…
Memories raged of burdens borne…
& pain
& sorrow
& fear & dread…
thought’s of friends & causes dead…
but in these lessons the stars ignite…
to carrie the gipsy through the nite…

then 4 swords more cry out for change…
time for the gipsy to reflect & arrange…
The chaos unseen…
behind the darken window’s screen…
where voices cry out in her dreams…
so it would seem…
in haunting wakeful…
nightmare… seen’s…
then… dream..
new dreams
of truths unseen…

with that a soldier on his head…
Is he doing yoga?
or is he dead?
a man of power?
a man of will?
a man with promises to fulfil ?
or could he b a paupers judge ?
or 1 down who’s pathway she must trudge?…
or is this man a trickster muse ?
who has the power to abuse?
as balanced soul or 1 to dread???

Then 4 swords more,
an implication
Of the need 2 reflect the situation…
4 grouping thoughts
bring peace 2 mind…
reminding spirits 2 unwind…
4 tensions held within the sword
can be released without discord…
& dancing in the spirit realm…
Can b what’s needed at the helm…

and finally an ace of coins…
reversed in the hand in which it’s borne…
speculations may have been unsound…
investments built on shaky ground…
greed the source …
greed the creator…
handed down by maître & paitre…

At this the blind man surveyed the space…
he felt the gloom on every face…
& smiling he turned the central card…
and there the princess of pentacles sat…
No mask was worn upon her face…
& in her hand a star shaped maze…
in the other hand was feathered rod…
she felt no need…4 metal sword…

4 she had made a journey long…
& oftentimes she had felt forlorn…
but now she knew what she must do…
7 who was there to see her through…
she’d heard the truth…
she’d heard some lies…
& also some shitty alibis …
she’d learned of love…
& how 2 despise…
she’d seen the good …
she’d seen the bad…
she’d seen the happy
& the sad…

But…
she could not decide 4 U…
What to believe or what is true…
4 U must look inside yourself…
& ask your soul what the hand has dealt…
4 what is true 4 U , U  Z…
may b different 2 the gipsy girl…
or me…
& What the blind man believes 2 b true…
May not be the truth 2 u…

Author:

I have a keen interest in The Arts as therapy and a fundamental tool for understanding and managing mental health. I love nature, reading, writing, poetry, painting dance and yoga. And have a keen interest in social issues & humanities.

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