Free Canes For The Blind

I ask this as I was outside my house yesterday and a man got off the bus, at the bus stop. He was wearing dark glasses and carrying the white cane that blind people use. As he walked away from the bus he looked at his watch, presumably to check the time!

True story.

What was that all about, please?

Many thanks for your answers to this puzzler.....

Yes they do travel free .He could be registered Blind but still have an element of vision... Eye conditions vary .. tunnel vision for instance, would mean he would be able to see his watch.. but his peripheral vision would mean he would probably walk into a lamp-post ... dark glasses prevent sun glare... and the cane aids mobility and identifies steps and kerbs. You don`t have to be totally blind to be registered ... if they can`t read the top line on an Optician`s Chart they can be registered blind ...

2008-06-04 14:05:59 by Rolsy

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look im not telling you to do my homework and i know this poem is long but i dont get it i read it like five times already and i need to do a response tonight so if you guys could please read this poem and ge tme to understand it. it will only take a couple of you minutes
thank you...
LAND
By: Maurice Kenny


1976

Torn, Tattered, yet rugged
in the quick incline of bouldered hills
crab appled, cragged, lightning-struck birch, cedar;
wilderness muzzeled; forests... kitchen tables and bedposts
of foreign centuries; meadows cowed
beyond redemption, endurance, violated
by emigres' feet, and vineyards alien
to indigenous squash and berry,
fragile lupine and iris of the pond;
while wounded willows bend in the snow
blown north by th west wind.


1820
spring lifts under drifts, saplings
hold to the breeze, larks sing, strawberries
crawl from under snow, woodchucks run
stone walls of new cemeteries and orchards;
apples blossom, thistle bloom

(Madame de Feriet's ghost prowls the miraged bridge
spanning Black River and her mansion lanterns
glow in the clear darkness of the French dream,
hazeled in the richness of her opulence

the lands she would hold out to tenants for rent
have neither clearings nor plows;
the disillusionment loried her trucks to France,
her mansion to ashes, her bridge to dust in 1871,
her savings to pittance, her dream to agony

madame de feriet gave her french aristocratic manner
to a signpost at the edge of the country road
tangled now by yellow roses and purple vetch)

1976

april lifts from under the drifts of grey
snow piled by plows ruthless in their industrial
might to free roads and make passage
for trucks and automobiles to hurry to the grave
with dead horses in the far pasture
that no longer sustains the hunger of bleating lambs

virgin spring lifts, its muddy face scarred
and mapped with trails of progress, its smoke
rising in pine, maplem flowering aspen,
chicory weed and clods, manure of waste, whey,
abandoned farm houses and barns shaking in the wind
blind old men caught without canes in the storm;
spring bloody in its virginity , its flow corrupted
raped in zoned courts of law that struck quarried hills...
a great god's lance thrust in the quickness of electric sun

rage of spring rivers, swollen with anger...
cold voice growling through the night... swirling,
swallowing the soft shoulders of shoreline;
the rage of the aged shakeled to history
and the crumbling bones of its frame, fisted against
the night, shaking the cane against the dark, the bats
fluttering in the balmy summer eve, fireflies creeping
through the young green grass of the long frsh meadows

1812

the north, the north aches in the bones, the land,
in the elm's limbs gently singing in that August
breeze, bereft of holiday and festival, ghost and voice...
tunneled by gophers; ticks and fleas stuck to an old dog's back

(General Brown marched his men to Sacketts Harbor,
struck the brittish in the red belly
and wen home to lift a pint to his deeds
and captured vices, to ville a town, erect a fence)

1976

the gooseberry is disseased, and the elm,
stone walls broken, sky cracked, pheasants
and young muskrats stertilized, and filds

This is going back and forth comparing! How the world has changed. In the 70's tecnology was just beginning to take a turn. People were starting to understand things, and were inventing more! The world had pollution, and people are careless, and drugs, and littering. But there were valleys, and lakes, and forests, and more hills. Life was more tough and rugged. There were hippies, and more drugs.

While in 1812 & 1820 there was still unmasked parts of the globe! Life was hard, beliefs were different, and pollution was less, and there was more nature, and beauty in the world! The world was a different place!

good luck
Hope I helped!
Evelynn!

2009-09-08 18:38:38 by Jose R

I Already found two examples i just need two more can u please read it and tell me 2 it will only take a couple of your minutes please...

Thank You

LAND
By: Maurice Kenny


1976

Torn, Tattered, yet rugged
in the quick incline of bouldered hills
crab appled, cragged, lightning-struck birch, cedar;
wilderness muzzeled; forests... kitchen tables and bedposts
of foreign centuries; meadows cowed
beyond redemption, endurance, violated
by emigres' feet, and vineyards alien
to indigenous squash and berry,
fragile lupine and iris of the pond;
while wounded willows bend in the snow
blown north by th west wind.


1820
spring lifts under drifts, saplings
hold to the breeze, larks sing, strawberries
crawl from under snow, woodchucks run
stone walls of new cemeteries and orchards;
apples blossom, thistle bloom

(Madame de Feriet's ghost prowls the miraged bridge
spanning Black River and her mansion lanterns
glow in the clear darkness of the French dream,
hazeled in the richness of her opulence

the lands she would hold out to tenants for rent
have neither clearings nor plows;
the disillusionment loried her trucks to France,
her mansion to ashes, her bridge to dust in 1871,
her savings to pittance, her dream to agony

madame de feriet gave her french aristocratic manner
to a signpost at the edge of the country road
tangled now by yellow roses and purple vetch)

1976

april lifts from under the drifts of grey
snow piled by plows ruthless in their industrial
might to free roads and make passage
for trucks and automobiles to hurry to the grave
with dead horses in the far pasture
that no longer sustains the hunger of bleating lambs

virgin spring lifts, its muddy face scarred
and mapped with trails of progress, its smoke
rising in pine, maplem flowering aspen,
chicory weed and clods, manure of waste, whey,
abandoned farm houses and barns shaking in the wind
blind old men caught without canes in the storm;
spring bloody in its virginity , its flow corrupted
raped in zoned courts of law that struck quarried hills...
a great god's lance thrust in the quickness of electric sun

rage of spring rivers, swollen with anger...
cold voice growling through the night... swirling,
swallowing the soft shoulders of shoreline;
the rage of the aged shakeled to history
and the crumbling bones of its frame, fisted against
the night, shaking the cane against the dark, the bats
fluttering in the balmy summer eve, fireflies creeping
through the young green grass of the long frsh meadows

1812

the north, the north aches in the bones, the land,
in the elm's limbs gently singing in that August
breeze, bereft of holiday and festival, ghost and voice...
tunneled by gophers; ticks and fleas stuck to an old dog's back

(General Brown marched his men to Sacketts Harbor,
struck the brittish in the red belly
and wen home to lift a pint to his deeds
and captured vices, to ville a town, erect a fence)

1976

the gooseberry is disseased, and the elm,
stone walls broken, sky cracked, pheasants
and young muskrats stertilized, and fields

stuck the british in the red belly.

the rage of the aged shakeled to history

spring bloody in it's virginity
it's flow corrupted raped in zoned courts of law

dead horses in the far pasture
that no longer sustains the hunger of bleating lambs.

there's a lot.

2009-09-17 16:33:20 by Jose R

I have a story concept that I want to write on, and I'd like to get an idea of what people think of. Would you read it? Do you think it is interesting? Here is the idea:

An alternative world where everyone has five senses: sound, smell, taste, touch, and...echo. You see, everyone uses echolocation because no one has eyes. For hundreds of thousands of years, people have used echolocation instead of vision. Now, a strange series of mutated births are occurring...children who have eyes like dogs and other animals. At first, the solution is simple...remove the offending organs and train the children to rely on their echolocation, not this 'other' sense. But more and more children are being born with eyes, and more and more are lacking the sense of echo. In a world of echolocation, how will these mutated people live; how will they survive?

The story is meant to evoke two main streams of thought in readers. First, as a reversal of rules, the readers will learn what it might be like to be the PWD (person with disability), and gain some understanding of the reality of prejudice. Second, I hope to help the readers understand what it is like to be blind, and show readers that being blind is not harder, just different. For example, audible signals and bumped lines on the road (think of the bumps on the shoulder of the interstate) show people where lanes are, and tell drivers and pedestrians when to cross and when to wait. For the echo impaired, clicker devices and canes (much like today's long white canes) are tools. But what to do with these new people who have no sense of echos?

What are your thoughts? Can you suggest anything that should be considered specifically? Do you have any good ideas of things that such a world as this would have?

If you prefer, feel free to e-mail me at herekittykat2@gmail.com. I would love to hear from people of all walks, disabled or not, sighted or blind, lovers of bats, anyone!

I like it.

But you'll need a reason why people are being born with eyes again.
It seems like for whatever reason (you'll probably want to know this whether it appears in the story or not), people long ago lost their sense of sight and developed echolocation like what bats use. So something would have happened on earth that made it easier to survive based on echoes than based on normal eyesight (so people with echolocation would survive longer and have better chances of producing offspring).
So why is it people with eyes are starting to have an advantage over people with echolocation?
Or, you know, just say magic, lol.

I think a cool thing to consider would be art in this world. In our world, art is primarily visual, so it wouldn't stand a chance in a world without sight. Sculpture, writing (in braille or something like it anyway), and sound art are the only things I can think of that could transfer from a sight-based world to an echo-based one. Artsy geek-out in process, lol.

I agree with the person (I don't remember the name... sorry) who said to be careful about going too far with moralizing. I think the content of the story itself is enough to get across the moral message you want to send, so don't rant about it in the prose. ^_^

Good luck. It sounds really interesting.

2009-07-15 13:05:01 by Jewel

they see australian's american's easy cash free flow
i was getting that bad that i nearly killed myself over this frauded love it wasn't love at all it was lie's to help them thrive as they do not get much money in nigeria as we do (oz and us) i have learn my lesson in a big heart felt loser im big hearted thinking it was love it wasn't "LOVE IS BLIND ILL GUESS ILL BUY MYSELF A CANE" sitution they taken me for granted of telling me lies lies lies please guy's dont make me feel so bad as i am all ready in i have been crying very hard all the money i lost and never have found true love get this nigerian's GO TO HELL

are you the guy from readers digest from a couple months ago?

They had a thing on the nigerian scammers and said that the guy actually flew down there and almost died but met up with police and flew back

2006-09-23 12:50:32 by shotgunblues_98