Out of Character:
This will serve as a place for rambling thoughts and poems, and anything that at the time of their creation seemed like a good idea.
Reader's note: this is a poem I wrote, long ago, which was influenced by real life events. Since I use part of it as my signature, I figured somebody might be interested in its entireity.
And behold there came a day when one having the perceptions of all the senses and the sensations brought there of, sat with two lacking in some form one of those which the other held. And so it came to pass that questions asked and answers given those lacking in one form, but holding more in another imparted all that they had to the one have all the capabilities of sensation and perception; so, that by so doing that one could better understand the world as those lacking understood it. Read then of the words taken down of that day, for the loving hand that took them desires that something here by might be gained that was not yet held before the viewing.
You asked me on one fair day, your eyes dreamy and far away, what it is like to be without sight, to see only the dark & the light. You asked me of color and what is now denied me, you asked, most curiously,
What does a blind man call beauty?
I replied by and by if you know the smell of the sky, of the scent of life and death, if you knew or could guess. And then my retort was thus, and thus, for many things unlike my peers I give no fuss.
Why should I care to the color of your hair, or even if your head were bare.
Why should I shout with rage, because of hue or shade.
If it were long, straight, kinky, or Mohawk shaped.
Black, bronze, or brown, why should my mirth be struck down.
Why should I care how much waves in the breeze, but back to the question,
What does a blind man call beauty?
What then of attractiveness, to this I say, why should there be a tempest in my brain as to the form of your frame. If you be plump, or bone thin, squat, or smaller than a sapling; for what then if I am shorter than thee,
Ah, to the question what does a blind man call beauty?
To this question I declare what physical things can compare to when I saw your soul laid bare, in past action, voiced thought, and present deed, most lovely in it’s entirety. Thus, thus, is what I hold close for all eternity, this is what the blind man calls beauty.