How Poetry Helps Me Move On As a Blind Person

Editor’s note: April is National Poetry Month. In honor of this month, Deanna Noriega has shared some of her poetry and encourages you to take part in the Library of Congress webinars on poetry starting April 1.

Writing My Way Through the Tough Times

Writing is a way to get through the tough times and also a way to think through a problem or even capture the joy of a moment. I wrote my poem “Dancers” in my head while walking sixteen blocks with my dog guide to a dental appointment! The joy of walking with Griffin made that walk a celebration of freedom and a shared celebration of our teamwork. Whether I am dealing with sorrow or joy, poetry gives me a way to capture the feelings and vent them safely out of my head and enables me to move on. Coping with blindness can be hard at times and writing is one way to deal with it.

Person walking on the street with guide dog in motion blur.


We are cloud dancers,

You lead and I follow.

Our steps synchronized. Our bodies swaying to the same rhythm.

Swept along in the current of the jet stream.

Floating lightly on the swell of an updraft, swooping into a glide down the slope of a down draft.

Side slipping around a gaggle of migrating geese.

Pausing a few beats to let a thunderhead rumble past.

Through fog and mist through falling snow we whirl, our movements in perfect unison.

Where your paws lead, my feet follow.

What does it matter, if only we two hear the music.

We move together as one being.

We are Cloud dancers, you and I.

Black silhouette defining a female body shape. source: nic

See Me, Open Your Eyes and Really Look

I was the child sitting alone on the stairs while other children played a ball game in the yard.

Because I couldn’t see to play, I learned to love books.

I was the young girl who washed her hair on Friday nights, because the boys who carried my heavy braille books at school Never guessed I loved to dance and go to movies.

I was the young woman holding my new born infant, with my heart full of wonder and joy,

While nurses talked about me as if I weren’t there, speculating about how I could ever care for that child.

I was the young mother sitting alone in the school cafeteria because the teacher didn’t expect me to come to the mother’s lunch And assigned my child to serve behind the counter.

I tell you these things because I want you to understand, I am not a disability,

I am a person like you. I laugh, I cry, I sing and dance.

I cherish my friends and family. I want to be a part of my community and world.

I don’t need your pity. I only ask your acceptance.

I only need you to open your eyes and see me, not as a dysfunction but as a person.

A human being just like you.


In my smart phone lives a dumb blonde named SIRI.

Her antics can make me feel Teary.

My humble requests,

She treats as mere jests,

And keeps me double tap tapping till weary!