School for the Blind

No windows
In this school for the blind;
But fluorescent lights
Try to teach
A defiant, cool white cane
That leans next to the boy
Whose fingers fan
The lower register
Of a twelve-string guitar
That has a green
Cardboard pine tree
Hanging from its neck.

poem by Gary Witt
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My Life, My Worthless Life

If innocence and wonder together
Are the true foundation of wisdom
(And they are, you know they are)
Then innocence has not been lost
But is something we must achieve;
And wonder does not come naturally,
But only arrives after fretful years
Of not knowing.

poem by Gary Witt
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Elusive, Fragile Joy Beset

Whither happiness
Wither joy that must
Endure our hopes
So hope endures;
Escape our dreams
When dreams imprisoned lie;
Suffer our illusions
Trammeled and dying;
Survive our love
And love’s brutality;
Bear our needs
That unfilled weigh upon us;
Staunch our sorrow
As sorrow staunchly stands;
Brave our comfort
Cowardly consumed;
And abide our fears
For fear abides.

poem by Gary Witt
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According to Mark

If I have lost faith it is because
Faith has been stolen from me;
I’ve been a mark, swindled and duped—
Not having squandered faith,
But having misplaced it.

Then, as I needed,
Faith seemed to grow.
I could not know how much I had
Until I had no more.

I long now to believe.
I long now to live
In an honest place
Where a modest silo stands
Taller than the tallest spire.

Not here, where evil casually
Steps over the abatis,
Changes everything

[...] Read more

poem by Gary Witt
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