Showing posts with label blind. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blind. Show all posts

Sunday, July 15, 2018

ALONE IN THE DARK




I sit alone by the table.
I hear voices.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.

I reach out.
I feel something smooth.
A plate.
A meal.
Smells tickle my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of pudding.
Smells of life.

What color is the food?
Is the sun shining?
Are the faces around me young or old?
So many questions.

Questions I can’t answer,
I’ve never been able to answer.
For I’ve been blind,
Living in the dark for years.
The nursing home is now my prison.
I sit alone, 
Ignored by the staff,
Poked by the staff.
This is not the ending
I would have envisioned for myself. 
A darkness too encompassing.
A sadness too overwhelming. 

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

A DARK COCOON


eclipse
The moon passes the sun.
Morning bows out, all done.
Darkness unveils its grim poker hand
to the drum beat of the marching band.

A moment of blackness
brings fears of more darkness.
What if your life was all dark?
The sun never lefts its mark.

The mornings and nights the same,
bringing you mountains of pain.
No relief from the bleak cocoon
like digging your grave with a spoon.

Years fade and turn to dust,
your memory goes bust.
Trapped in walls of despair,
without holes for the air.

Is this living or not?
She is stuck in one spot.
Too afraid to venture outside,
a further blow to her lost pride.

She hides in the nursing home,
where she reaches for the phone.
“Help me,”​ she cries out.
No one can help out.

Lost in her dark cocoon,
where she fits like a spoon.
Waiting for death to take its flight
to a better place in the light.

Thursday, July 13, 2017

SIT ALONE IN THE DARK


ALONE IN THE DARK
“I sit alone by the table.
I hear voices around me.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.
I reach out.
I can feel the smoothness.
A plate.
A meal.
Smells waft by my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of pudding.
Smells of...


“I sit alone in the dark.
I hear voices around me.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.

I reach out.
I can feel the smoothness.
A plate.
A meal.
Smells waft by my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of pudding.
Smells of life.

What color is the food?
Is the sun shining in?
Are the faces around me young or old?
So many questions.

Questions I can’t answer.
I can never answer.
For I am blind,
Have been blind for years.”
The anguish my mother faced
For most of her life.
Her sight stolen from her
At a young age.
Loss of sight.
Loss of colors.
Loss of faces.
Loss of memories.

Friday, September 30, 2016

IN THE DARK




ALONE IN THE DARK

"I sit alone by the table.
I hear voices around me.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.

I reach out.
I can feel the smoothness.
A plate.
A meal.

Smells waft by my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of  pudding.
Smells of life.

What color is the food?
Is the sun shining in?
Are the faces around me young or old?
So many questions.

Questions I can't answer.
I can never answer.
For I am blind,
Have been blind for years."

The anguish my mother had faced
For most of her life.
Her sight stolen from her
At a young age.

The last part of her life
was spent in a nursing home,
suffering from dementia.
Life can be cruel.

Loss of sight.

Loss of colors.
Loss of faces.
Loss of memories.

 

Friday, July 31, 2015

WHAT I CHERISH MOST — THE CHERISHED BLOGFEST

005

What I Cherish The Most

What I cherish the most isn’t a ‘what’ but a ‘who;’ the person who I had looked up to and then had lost too early in life. This was my brother, Neil Leist.

Neil was the type of person who lit up a room when he entered it. He was 6’2”, but it wasn’t his height that drew others’ eyes. It was his dynamic personality and his intelligence. Those grey eyes mirrored his great intellect and capacity for greatness. He acted as my father when my father wasn’t home but working long days and nights driving a taxi. He took care of my blind mother until I was old enough to help out. He sheltered me as much as he could from life and responsibilities. He shouldered these burdens himself.

He did well in college but he flourished in the business world. He traded on the Commodity Exchange until he had enough money to take over a Fortune 500 company. With a majority share in its stock, he took over American Bakeries. Taystee Bread was never going to be the same. He took me along on his ride to stardom. I worked for him on the Exchange and in his offices on Madison Avenue, New York. I majored in Finance at New York University, preparing to join him. All was going well for once in my life and in my brother’s life. My parents were proud. He helped them out. All was perfect until that awful phone call in the middle of the night.

My lights went out. All the light in the world was gone for me. I was stuck in darkness as dark and deep as the one my mother lived in. My brother had been in a car accident in the Hamptons. His fancy, red Porsche had hydroplaned on the wet roads. Neil was a great driver with quick reflexes. He drove the car off the road and onto the grass. Luck wasn’t with him. A truck was parked in his path and the Porsche crashed beneath it.

Neil was in a coma for two years before he passed away. Meanwhile, his so-called friends at American Bakeries were undermining his position at the company causing the stock price to drastically plummet. We had to sell off his investment in one big chunk at a big loss. Most of his money was tied up with this company. It took me eight years to settle his estate.

I got an M.B.A. in Finance but high finance soon lost its appeal to me. I worked at different investment companies. Then I made the big decision to become a full-time mom for my two beautiful daughters. I devoted myself to them. I took on part-time jobs in the financial field, but I was always available if they needed me.

The big 50 was approaching and I was beginning to feel that I had lost out on life. My brother and then both my parents had passed away. My daughters were beginning their own lives. I needed a focus, a reason for my life. My book, The Dead Game, took me ten years to write.

My life had taken many unexpected twists and turns. Memories of my brother followed me across every speed bump; thoughts of what Neil would have done in each situation kept me company. I don’t have my brother any longer but I have his memories. I also have a cherished picture of him standing alongside Mayor Ed Koch when they had met to discuss the possibility of moving the American Bakeries’ factory to New York City. It’s proudly displayed in my house and now for everyone on my blog to see.

Monday, July 13, 2015

ALONE IN THE DARK



ALONE IN THE DARK

"I sit alone by the table.
I hear voices around me.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.

I reach out.
I can feel the smoothness.
A plate.
A meal.

Smells waft by my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of  pudding.
Smells of life.

What color is the food?
Is the sun shining in?
Are the faces around me young or old?
So many questions.

Questions I can't answer.
I can never answer.
For I am blind,
Have been blind for years."

The anguish my mother had faced
For most of her life.
Her sight stolen from her
At a young age.
Loss of sight.
Loss of colors.
Loss of faces.
Loss of memories.

 




Friday, April 17, 2015

A LITTLE ABOUT ME






A Little about Me


I was asked to contribute an article to a fellow author's blog. At first I panicked. I didn’t know what to write about. I’m a listener. I listen to other people’s stories. I’m a good listener. I don’t like speaking about myself. Therefore, I don’t like to write about myself. But now that I’m a writer, I have to move into the spotlight.

I’ve done a few interviews on fellow authors’ blogs. Their questions helped to serve as guidelines. Now I have a blank page to deal with. Should I write about why I had decided to become a writer? I don’t think so. It has been done to death by writers. I believe I will write about what had inspired me to pursue my career in Finance. It wasn’t a ‘what’ but a ‘who;’ the person who I had looked up to and then had lost too early in life. This was my brother, Neil Leist.

Neil was the type of person who lit up a room when he entered it. He was 6’2”, but it wasn’t his height that drew others’ eyes. It was his dynamic personality and his intelligence. Those grey eyes mirrored his great intellect and capacity for greatness. He acted as my father when my father wasn’t home but working long days and nights driving a taxi. He took care of my blind mother until I was old enough to help out. He sheltered me as much as he could from life and responsibilities. He shouldered these burdens himself.

He did well in college but he flourished in the business world. He traded on the Commodity Exchange until he had enough money to take over a Fortune 500 company. With a majority share in its stock, he took over American Bakeries. Taystee Bread was never going to be the same. He took me along on his ride to stardom. I worked for him on the Exchange and in his offices on Madison Ave. in Manhattan. I majored in Finance at New York University, preparing to join him. All was going well for once in my life and in my brother’s life. My parents were proud. He helped them out. All was perfect until that awful phone call in the middle of the night.

My lights went out. All the light in the world was gone for me. I was stuck in darkness as dark and deep as the one my mother lived in. My brother had been in a car accident in the Hamptons. His fancy, red Porsche had hydroplaned on the wet roads. Neil was a great driver with quick reflexes. He drove the car off the road and onto the grass. Luck wasn’t with him. A truck was parked in his path and the Porsche crashed beneath it.

Neil was in a coma for two years before he passed away. Meanwhile, his so-called friends at American Bakeries were undermining his position at the company causing the stock price to drastically plummet. We had to sell off his investment in one big chunk at a big loss. Most of his money was tied up with this company. I spent eight years dealing with all the vermin or finance people and lawyers before his estate could be settled.

I lost my taste for high Finance. I did get an M.B.A. in Finance but it soon lost its appeal to me. I wasn’t cutthroat. I wasn’t a back stabber. I wanted an interesting job that was challenging. I did enjoy working at The Office of Management and Budget at City Hall. I wasn’t able to work the overtime hours on Saturdays because of my Sabbath, so I left.

I worked at different companies, such as: E.F. Hutton & Co., McCall Pattern Company, and at local brokerage firms on Long Island where I now live. None of these jobs appealed to me. I was married with two beautiful daughters. I devoted myself to them. I took on part-time jobs, but I was always available if they needed me.

The big 50 was approaching and I was beginning to feel that I had lost out on life. My brother and then both my parents had passed away. My daughters were beginning their own lives. I needed a focus, a reason for my life. I was helping my daughter write an essay for college. I read it over and was surprised that I had written it. It related to my mother being blind with dementia in a nursing home. I began to think about writing.

My mid-life crisis book, The Dead Game, took me ten years to write. I hadn’t realized that writing was so hard. Characters have to move around and speak at the same time. They can’t sound the same. Through all the rewrites, the plot and story remained the same. Only the dialogue and grammar changed. I believe I could edit for the rest of my life and still not be satisfied.

I found a self-publisher, who offered to print and edit the book for a set price. Anything else costs extra. If I made any changes to the book after it was published, it would cost hundreds of dollars for them to take care of it. They even charged to send the changes to Amazon and Nook, even though these companies don’t charge for this.

One day, the publisher informed me that my book was published. I thought that this meant it was printed. Not only was it printed, it was sitting on Amazon and Nook without a description or bio. It looked sad. I panicked. I had to learn how to use Google so I could ask it how to describe a book. I learned about the log line and synopsis. I bought books on grammar and editing. I opened blogs. I found Facebook and Twitter. Luckily, I found some nice authors who helped me with my countless questions.

My book looked nice on the sites, but it didn’t have reviews. I soon learned that without reviews there are no sales. I joined Goodreads.com to find reviewers. I was placed in review groups, where the members randomly reviewed other members’ books but not each other’s books. Some authors gave nice reviews with constructive criticism. Others took apart my book, piece by piece, and in detail described what was wrong with it. They even used excerpts. These hurt, but I used the reviews to fix any weak spots in my book.  After a year of this, I put out a new edition of my book. I tried to address everyone’s concerns. But you just can’t please everyone.

My book is now sitting comfortably in its sections: Vampire Suspense on Amazon and Paranormal Suspense on Nook. I will continue to promote it online while I begin to work on book 2 of The Dead Game series.

My life has taken many unexpected twists and turns. I wonder what the young me would have thought if she had heard that she was going to write vampire stories in the future. Would she have laughed? Would she have been surprised? Knowing me so well, I wouldn’t have laughed or wouldn’t have been surprised. And I might have even been happy. I don’t believe I was so happy with Finance, even in the beginning. I did it as more of a challenge. I wanted to do well in a male-dominated field—just to prove that I could do it. And now I have a new mission. I want to prove to myself that I could be a good author. And I believe I’m well on my way.

Thank you for listening,
Susanne Leist

Sunday, March 29, 2015

DARKNESS IS YOUR ONLY FRIEND





  1. DARKNESS IS YOUR ONLY FRIEND

    A room full of books.
    You can feel them with your fingertips.
    But you can’t see a single word.
    Your senses are sensitized.
    Every single noise is amplified.
    But you can’t see light.
    Or colors.
    You are blind.
    In a world full of color.
    Your fingertips lead you.
    Your senses guide you.
    Darkness is your only friend.

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

WHAT DO WE SEE?



We see the world through our own eyes.
But what are we seeing?
Do we see reality or our own perception of reality?
Is our brain filtering out what we don't care to see?
Am I seeing the same thing as you?
I believe we all look at the world in different ways.
We could be looking at the same thing,
but seeing something entirely different.
I'd be curious to see the world through
a set of different eyes.
Who knows what these eyes might show me.