Doctor My Eyes

Doctor my eyes have seen the years,
and the slow parade of fears,
without crying.
Now I want to understand.

I have done all that I could
to see the evil and the good,
without hiding.
You must help if you can.

Doctor my eyes,
tell me what is wrong.
Was I unwise to
leave them open for so long?

As I have wandered through this world
and as each moment has unfurled,
I've been waiting
to awaken from these dreams.

People go just where they will.
I never noticed them until
I got this feeling
that it's later than it seems.

Doctor my eyes,
tell me what you see.
I hear their cries.
Just say if its too late for me.

Doctor my eyes,
I cannot see the sky.
Is this the price
for having learned how not to cry?

--Jackson Browne

I really like that song. It's a song from my childhood. Jackson Browne always got played in the mini-van on the way down the shore. We'd all listen to the open tones and sincere lyrics and watch for the sand to appear along the curbline. Honestly, I think that the music you listen to when you're young, the music that your parents play for you- influences your poetic sense, your own ideas about self- expression, how words are supposed to go together... streaming like the sand along the road, or crashing like the waves against your heels.

As you can see, I am most comfortable streamlining my thoughts, running them into one another and using far too many commas. hehe I guess I have a thing for dramatic pause. Maybe it's ego, or maybe I'm just very particular about the reading experience and understanding that takes place after I've left and moved on.

It's probably both, though mostly ego.

I'm really dehydrated.