Best Blindfolds Poems
New Dawn
First day of a new chapter, philosophical reflections emulate like four seasons,
reminiscing hearts whose voices are no longer heard, yet I feel their spirits close.
I ponder who will find me and who will I lose - life is limited for many reasons.
Mind and Muse War
One misty morning when my muse was missing and I misplaced my pen,
I felt regret unable to portray how clementine hues ignited baby blue skies.
Battle between muse and mind bled rage onto the page - heart whispered amen.
Ignorant Bloodshed
If only hypocrites could see their reflection in the mirror of tangibility.
Would their fingers still point like deceitful swords, ready for bloodshed?
Love to hate, hate to love, blindfolds the eyes on the path to tranquillity.
Examples for Threesome contest:
Write three lines. No syllable count. Can rhyme, or you do not have to use rhyme. Important part is to keep it on three lines. Does not have to be three sentences.
I've done three examples, but you only need to write one stanza of three lines. Mine is a triple threesome!
Silent One
4 January 2020
Categories:
blindfolds, analogy, poetry, sin,
Form:
Free verse
You knocked me down, I fell so hard
You tore me up, you broke my heart
But still I stood there by your side
while you ignored the tears I cried
never asked if I was okay
never cared that I wasnt
you think "I'm sorry" makes it better
You know it doesn't
cause you can't undo the pain that you have done
when my soul believed u were the one
even through the worst and hardest of times
I never once left from your side
now I gotta start over-I'll get over this
I'm gonna be fine-it's me that you'll miss
cuz now you know just what you lost
you'll never replace me-I'm your biggest loss
keep trying to come back, its fuel for my fire
I'm so over you, no truth in a liar
Our memories were pointless- our moments so fake
I was right you were wrong-it's your turn to break
I'm glad that your crying- as I laugh in your face
I truly feel nothing
my hearts been erased
You ask me how I can be so cold
but where were you when I cried alone?
where was my comfort when I needed you most?
I'm sick of your medicine-you take a dose
Goodbye to you-goodbye to us
I tried to hold on, but it hurts too much
to look in your eyes and see my mistakes
I have to let go, even though my heart breaks
everytime I remember how real it once was
and try to forget what hurts to think of
but I wish you the best, I hold no regrets
I hope this will teach you to clean up your mess
and you'll be the man you never were to me
to the next girl that stands where I couldn't be.
It's just not who I am, not anymore
I loved you so much, but I love myself more
once the blindfolds come off, You can't fake happiness
So I put my heart back in my chest
And while it's still broken, the beat carries on
you can't live a life that your heart knows is wrong
But this won't leave me bitter, It was worth what I got
Cause I found who I am, when I learned who I'm not.
Categories:
blindfolds, lost loveme, heart, heart,
Form:
Rhyme
I have walked a long distance
In pursuit of happiness I guess
I encountered resistance, while driving down memory lane
Until I ran out of gas
I have blindfolds on my eyes
To keep you out of my sight
But I still see you in my dreams at night
Perhaps you are where my future lies
I wish to sign a truce with my feelings
To stop feeling this other pretty girls
And start filling you with love spells
Because you are my one true love
But you don’t think I am man enough
You captured my mind and locked it inside your world
That is why I mind less about how the truth will unfold
You paint my happiness vividly like a renowned painter
My lips are longing for yours, more than a drunkard is longing for alcohol
My dear pot of gold
Wealth is when I have you by my side
Without you all my dreams are sold out
The hairs on my skin stand happily
Just from thinking about you
How I miss your view, from a certain angle
How I miss the simultaneous beats of our hearts
With chests tightly pressed against each other,
Syncing into every movement we make
Maybe it’s because I’m in pursuit of happiness
Categories:
blindfolds, lost love,
Form:
Lyric
Close the door....
...and turn the lights off.
Touch my neck....
and listen....
....to the sound of me gasping....
As you gently rub my head...
Watch my eyes roll back...
I'm now in a state of submission.
You whisper in my ear,
"Now do as you're told."
My response is calm but exciting
"Yes ma'am."
I use my tongue to find the spot,
and enjoy the sweet sounds....
of you moaning.
The taste of you is so addictive to me....
"YES!!! YESSSS!!! You're MINE. SAY IT!!!"
I continue to enjoy the sweetness,
and respond "I'm yours."
Now you're even more hotter than ever.
Pleasing you is my joy....
I continue until you start to shake....
Finally you scream...
Wrapping those luscious thighs around me....
Grab that whip and those blindfolds...
Placing them over my eyes....
Force me back between your legs...
"Do it AGAIN NOW!!!"
"Yes ma'am... I will do ONLY as you ask."
Time passes...
you reach your climax...
It's all in my beard...
dripping wet....
I then look you in the eye...
and ask to taste it.
You whip me and say....
"Clean me up, my submissive pet...."
I then smile and again reply....
"Yes ma'am."
Categories:
blindfolds, dark, happiness,
Form:
Free verse
Chimes sing soft to the morning
first breaths mist a pressing view
pains mixed in with the water
drowning out another thought of you
Lost memories waiting in silence
lain on the wishes of painted sands
gathered forth through baskets of truth
held tight in outstretched hands
Here, creatures float in freedom
blindfolds erase tables of time
flowers speak in scents of honey
winds blow gently and you're mine
So don't you let your tomorrow's linger
in darkened clouds of wonder's past
flee the pull of undue apprehension
and entrust her love to last
Categories:
blindfolds, conflict,
Form:
Free verse
Each of us has one;
each alone may see it,
and none is ever touched these days.
Its content, though, is real enough.
There little blocks of memory
are carelessly assembled,
rudely left by time to gather dust
that filters in to gently cover them--
not quite enough to cause
an aging child to close the lid too soon.
Mayhap a friend who comes to play
will bring along his own to share,
though I would never trade with him.
My blocks are worn; the edges rounded,
and now my hands retrace
the tumbling journey of their history,
those moments of surprise
when blindfolds were removed,
and gushing bursts
of sorrow, sighs and ecstacy
came to me alone.
My toy box is a treasure I may never share.
Storage is no problem; it is always there.
I do not outgrow it, for it comes along with me
throughout this life--beyond I do not know.
The toys are magical, and never change.
And, you know...they are much more
than keepsakes; they are just like life.
In fact, it streams from them
and never mind their age,
it does behoove me now
to give them better care.
So please. I find
I rather love the toys within my box.
Dust or no, I mean to keep them all.
~
Categories:
blindfolds, allegory,
Form:
Free verse
"The Begin Again Beings"
A family of swords
the world under their feet
to all that is fallen in the
darkened passages beneath,
slipped on crushed pearls of tears
rivulets running down
a body of work pierced,
the milky powder swallowed
from the shells of wisdom,
much stronger than Bex,
a slither still remaining,
dulled the pain,
somewhat,
for a short while,
until it was fully consumed
and exhausted - then,
without warning,
the unstable ground
ripped, captured pages,
altered the blood let secrets
that seeped 6ft underground -
through the cracks,
one would postulate
that this was a doleful,
how to articulate?
there is only one way -
experience exsanguinate;
their charbroiled armour
now tarnished darker,
nourished the unseen seeds
of the Begin Again Beings
and their shoots shifted
from blunderbuss bullets
and cutting swords
pulled from stones,
to quills flourished
and bowing
to the never ending
silent war of roses;
breaking the surface rot,
growth was slowly seen
breaching up towards the Sun,
in the time of another’s
war strewn
journée poétique
Golden Trumpets
stood with Lilys-of-the-Fields
and Blue Lantana its
thistle down blown apart,
scattered and carried in waves
across the blue sky clouds,
to propagate and adorn
the thorny crowns
of black ravens
sitting on the shoulders
of their beloved
scarecrow masters,
their heraldry requiring
blood and the water
to dissolve their
steadfast blindfolds,
to clearly see as doves,
the beautiful great mystery
of the forgotten ones,
standing their ground
triumphant, never left,
never leaving,
bathed for all time
in the Sun
this is "1" story
of The Begin Again Beings
and how their well-fought for kingdom
was won
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Categories:
blindfolds, journey, muse, strength,
Form:
Narrative
(singing)
Tick tock , tick tock, tick tock, tick tock
The time keeps tickinh, the time keeps ticking yeaaaaaaah.
(starts poem)
you psychologically abuse me,
Mentally not physically,
Have my heart racing continuously,
You make me feel like I need therapy,
You bring the unconscious conflicts to my consciousness becoming the psychoanalysis to my mental awareness,
You are my bio-medical disturbance giving me no insight on my personal understanding,
You act like the ego verses my superego and neither of us can come to a mutualistic agreement like the “ID”,
You free associate yourself with your first thoughts, yet you never interpret none of the above,
You never focus on our currency yet our past like it’s the psycho-dynamic form to your
fantastical life,
You lack credibility, no validation to our dream analysis,
We lack communication, nothing is verbally displayed yet you want physical connections and you can’t even connect with me on a mental level because your cognitive approach emphasize no personal growth in our relationship,
Your irrational beliefs have no perceptions of our world,
All these thoughts riot through my head yet you can never understand because you lack the mental capabilities to comprehend.
These little mind games play on as the time keeps ticking and life goes on ,
and due to the past still controlling your thought process superiority continues to allow you to have dictatorship over me ,
you act like your not one shade lighter than me ,
yet because i lack the knowledge of my skin ,
I become numb to all your foolish hits mentally .
Laughable jokes , and fake hahas ,
smiles to the face when you have no intentions of allowing me to stand the same rank as you because I'm not the same color as you .
And no matter how much time goes by I will still be psychologically controlled by you ,
until I learn to unfold the blindfolds Mr.lynch put over my eyes just so you can have control over my mind .
Categories:
blindfolds, abuse, racism, tribute,
Form:
Lyric
My soles have felt the sands of time,
Slip through my toes and bury my heels,
At beaches where blood ran like rain.
I honor the memory of those that have fallen.
My hands have touched a sea that once parted,
Allowing fleeing slaves to find freedom.
I've cupped my palm , raised the water to my mouth,
And tasted the salt of shackled tears.
My eyes have traveled the length of a cord
That bound my newborn children to my body.
Where did I end and they begin within,
This rope of life that made us one?
My ears have heard two towers crash,
Sordid lies and broken promises.
My ears hear my daughters voice,
Raised in song, and delivers salvation .
My arms have held my dying mother,
Who loved me enough to let me go.
Yet,I,her eldest daughter,
Could not do the same for her.
My skin has brushed against burning hatred,
But mostly of passions building warmth.
Blindfolds and age could rob me of sight.
I'll never forget the texture of my husbands flesh.
My lips have guarded too many secrets,
Mostly my own, dark and painful.
My lips, moist and soft, are often smiling,
And most of all, they've known love.
Categories:
blindfolds, introspectionme, me,
Form:
Free verse
We faced each other in a circle as
we sat on chairs inside her classroom; then
she had us close our eyes. Perhaps we used
some blindfolds. I’ve forgotten details, for
it happened in my high school years ago.
Our sense of sight was gone. She walked around
the circle, giving each of us a taste
of something we would savor in our mouths.
Then each of us would guess what it had been.
We must have sampled spicy, sour and sweet!
I can’t recall the foods we tasted or
how many times we guessed them right or wrong.
She also had us use just sense of smell,
and later, she played sounds for us, and we
made guesses as to what it was we’d heard.
This happened in the first week of the class.
It stands out sharpest in my memory,
but I recall we’d share our written work
inside a circle. This I loved so well
because we heard each other clearly then.
I can’t recall the name of her who taught
Creative Writing. She was young and sweet
and knew the trick of using every sense
to help us be in tune with what we felt.
And that’s why we used blindfolds that first day!
Those words like “imagery” I’d only read
about in English class would come alive
because this woman knew the secret of
good teaching was to let her students learn
from real experience, not just from books.
I don’t recall the many things we did,
but all the fruit I bore from what she taught
is with me still; the stories that I wrote
and little poems saved since eleventh grade.
I kept no work from any other class!
I never guessed those many years ago
would find me on a thing called Internet
or that I’d end up writing mostly poems
when little stories used to be my “thing!”
Real writing days came once my kids were raised.
But always I’ll recall that precious class,
The funnest and the most inspiring one.
Perhaps a bit of what I am today -
A teacher and a writer - I owe to
The miss who taught Creative Writing Class.
Brenda Chiri-Carroll's "Who Has Inspired You the Most In Your Life" Contest
(I have learned this teacher's name since I wrote his back in 2011. She is Ms. Deborah Rozeboom)
Categories:
blindfolds, high school, me, writing,
Form:
Blank verse
On one daring day, when the bruising sun was yet to set
And unfold the opportunities of an anticipated and hopeful day.
A bystander sprouted out from her shell into the dew
Hardly aware of the blindfolds of reality
She set off; ready to feed her eyes what it loves the most, doom!
She is a racy schadenfreude.
Across the street, a mishap called her name
The voice she heeded with race of flashes
To the scene, straining to snap a view for her sight
Alas! She saw the fuss of commotion, and was marveled
She bragged to herself ‘’I’m always on time’’…
A metallic beast had kissed a monstrous millipede
Conveying explosive water, but had unturned and wet the soil.
People were engulfed in steams of smoke
Singing the song of pain and perturbing panic.
The sing-song travelled to her like the gong of a town-crier
The echo drew the bystander closer as she gasped in awe
Her frenzied soul almost ran amok in unpleasant excitement
Her eyes were fixed on her flutter, while ignoring the wet floor she toed.
Just then, a vestige of spark was wafted and veered towards her
In seconds of second, she too was swimming in stream of flame
She whirled out for help but echo ricocheted void
Of abyssal coma, as the day set, the sun smiled as she was bathed to ashes
Then other onlookers after observing the osmosis quickly grabbed her remains
And blew it to the waiting wind
The Man above the earth sniffed it and frowned
‘’Another wasted soul loitering in damnation’’, He muttered.
Then He cried rain down to cleanse others
But as it showers, they stood back gracing the sight
That holds their eyes- the bystanders!
Categories:
blindfolds, people, sun,
Form:
Free verse
The world is a game, with many options to choose,
But don’t worry, my friend, you have nothing to lose.
People strive for money, people strive to earn,
But they ignore their families, oh; it is a matter of concern!
Doctors, who once, were saviors of many lives,
Are now killing them, by ripping them with knifes.
Why are we blinded, by blindfolds of lies?
Can we not see the truth before our eyes?
Are the politicians too smart, or are we too dumb?
To let them throttle our minds, and make us numb?
In this game called world, there’s no second chance,
Learn from your mistakes, and then, advance.
Keep moving forward, and never stop, my friend,
Don’t pay heed to others and their useless trends.
The world is a game, with many options to choose,
But don’t worry, my friend, you have nothing to lose.
Categories:
blindfolds, prejudice, satire, society, truth,
Form:
Rhyme
Scuttled in a sea of tears, dreams drown,
and yet, the tears keep on trickling down.
You wear a smile to conceal sad tears
behind a facade that hides your fears.
A broken heart dreams of magic wings
to flee from the shame rejection brings.
Yet, forbidden fruit oft tastes sublime,
if only for a moment in time.
You feel bewildered, like a caged dove
confronting a future without love.
And reality's held with less grip;
falling away as hope starts to slip.
Trust slips blindfolds over trusting eyes;
hiding the truth behind veils of lies.
And faith fuels frustration of late,
adding its weight to the hand of fate.
You cringe at the fringes of disdain,
alone and abandoned to your pain.
And as time slowly consumes your day
fantasies fade, though heartaches stay.
Categories:
blindfolds, angst, anxiety, break up,
Form:
Rhyme
KING IN A CORNFIELD
When my effigy was impaled
for all to see
yours, on the other hand found a place to hide
around the outer edges of my grotesque.
And while you laugh at stories of my eccentricities
it affords you the luxury the concealment of your own cracks.
On this crazy treadmill that you build, I flesh out the fantasies, so you can sit in front row bewilderment at this at me your neon-reflected selves.
You said its necessary the blindfolds so in leg shackles
my choreography out on the gang-plank.
As long as you remain with me
on this thin film this frozen lake as long as the
cheers reverberate and I don’t have to come to my senses
to watch from a distance two projected shadows at the end of the cul-de-sac
dancing in sync
as long as I don’t have to see you
as you as you dissecting:
scornful fingers
sifting through
the distended
caricature
of
a
king
in
a
cornfield.
Categories:
blindfolds, hurt,
Form:
Free verse
A frozen pulse a synergy and soon she was iced like cold hard glass.
Poor Clea in her purple orchid dress ensconced in a crevice of time,
from the icy tendrils of Ikthalon. Icy winds blow from the bowels of hell
she is rendered still as ice pellets pelt on her weakened body;
He wraps the sun and blindfolds the stars then plummets to earth with demonic intentions to search and destroy.
Along comes an omega mutant " Iceman" with a
hard packed intention to stop the villain from exploiting her.
Radiating intense cold from every tendon and nerve in his body,
he wraps a gossamer fabric round her to thaw her gently from
the frost bites and nips of her emissary, the evil Doctor Strange.
A multi-verse madness of evil it was but as the clock struck twelve
in Time Square, Clea defrosts and sashays forward in her pencil dress.
Using her tele-ported thoughts, she enters another dimension where
Icemen are heroes and Spiderman rules.
This is where the story ends folks. Tune in for a sequel,
same place same time, reporting to you from Time Square.
Aug 7 2022
Categories:
blindfolds, hero, strength,
Form:
Narrative