Listen to poet Frances Lane on World Poetry Day

To mark World Poetry Day on 21 March 2008, we bring you a podcast of visually impaired poet Frances Lane reading two of her poems; 'The White-Stick Blues' and 'Twenty-Twenty Visions'.

Listen to Frances reading her poetry

Download the podcast of Frances reading her poetry (4.1 MB)

Below are the two poems Frances chose to read for us.

The White-Stick Blues

I don’t see too well, so I’ve got a white stick
to help me cope with all the traffic.
But sometimes it really makes me sick,
and it gives me the white-stick blues.

Most people I meet are very kind,
but some think it’s fun to be half-blind,
and that absence of sight equals absence of mind,
and that gives me the white-stick blues.

I’m sick and tired of trying to explain
it’s my eyes that’s weak, it’s not my brain –
that’s the opposite of t hose who cause me pain,
and give me the white-stick blues.

I wish I had the power of hocus-pocus:
I’d cast a spell on all these jokers;
make them live in a world that’s out of focus,
and give them the white-stick blues

All you people with perfect vision,
imagine yourself in my position;
to be the object of a fool’s derision
would give you the white-stick blues.

I’m not asking for your sympathy –
I don’t want anyone feeling sorry for me!
Just grant me a little dignity,
and don’t give me the white-stick blues.

I’m member of Mensa, so I’m not slow;
but unfortunately, that doesn’t show:
people see the stick – that’s all they know –
and they give me the white-stick blues.

It’s hard enough to live like this
without brain-dead morons taking the piss.
So don’t make it any worse than it is –
don’t give me the white-stick blues.
Please, don’t give me the white-stick blues!

Twenty-Twenty Visions

Okay, so I don’t see very well –
but don’t you dare to feel sorry for me!
There are more things in this heaven and earth
than are dreamed of in your philosophy.
So maybe my eyesight is diffuse,
and I may see things in shades of grey:
but there’s more to seeing than having good eyes,
and that’s something that no one can take away

so don’t pity me for my condition,
cos I’ve got twenty-twenty inner vision

I have sailed across the galactic plain,
I‘ve swum the depths of the ocean floor;
I’ve stood and watched Stonehenge being built,
I’ve followed the Hound across Dartmoor.
I’ve done all this inside my own head,
and those inner pictures are crystal clear:
I’m not disabled where it really counts –
my imagination has no frontier.

Accept the truth without revision,
that I’ve got twenty-twenty inner vision.

Some people’s eyesight is hundred percent,
and what do you suppose they use it for?
Watching “Eastenders” and reading the Sun:
hawkeyed, but the brain don’t work any more.
If I were offered their vision for mine
(but if I also had to take on their brain)
d’you honestly think I’d agree to swap?
Give up what I’ve got for that minor gain?

You’ve probably already guessed my decision –
I’ll keep my twenty-twenty inner vision!