Best Purblind Poems
It Saw Me Through Such Dastardly Purblind Eyes
It saw me through such dastardly purblind eyes
Up there overhead with silent anger
What a truly ghastly, dangerous beast
On a morn with dazzling trapezoid skies
This heart could not bear to see its long paws
and that deathly stare that penetrated me
O' lord save me now, please come to my aid
I wept bitterly, slashed with those claws
My mind again said to me, be thee stout
Step back, grab your sharpened sword and cut
You can do it, kill this fierce, horrid beast
And as I swung, I said "die, with a shout"!
That sword plunged in fast and hilt deep.
Damn it, alarm clock rang, I woke from sleep.
Robert J, Lindley - Dark sonnet
Dec 6th, 1973
ANDREA DIETRICH
Andrea, I am a purblind parrot
I have to borrow your carrot
(Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty)
I’m Andrea, a visitor to earth,
And I'm a Virgo; astrologically,
Stability has ruled me since my birth.
A gentle, mellow earth girl here you see.
(Andrea Dietrich)
...and heart she opened wide
The placid hue her eyes were born
A flirty blue, her eyes
Romantic eyes, with whisper of soft lavender for one
The breeze blew in
She clung to life and pondered soberly
Beyond what they had endeavored yet to do.
Her vision was an eagle's
She could see the roads along the shore
Someone motionless
She felt no wrath, but peace engulfed her
She embraced her soul's release.
New snow, beneath the moon and stars, falls with grace
My sweet goddess Andrea
With divine thunder
Rules the poetic world, the cerulean space
WSponsor Judy Konos
rite a Poem - Poetry Contest
i life
Reflections in the mirror increase resentment.
Tarnished heart pursues vengeful contentment
Disillusioned, you hide in fictitious make believe,
possessed by demons who purblind and deceive.
In your bogus twisted fabricated state of mind,
answers to your questions you shall never find.
Your fraudulent mask poses, deceptively concocted,
mocking with a grim masquerade you have adopted.
ii death
As your heart blackens with the absence of light,
Lucifer summons you closer, to his sheer delight.
Loved ones cannot save you from hell's burning heat,
there's nothing behind you but shadows of deceit.
Now that your toxic nature has begun to expire,
you can no longer suck energy like a vampire.
Nobody cares to listen to your forged confession.
There is only joy in the absence of your aggression.
iii after life
Pain like hungry howling wolves irritates skin deep.
After all this time, why do you sabotage my sleep?
Am I cursed that I see your silhouette in my dreams,
I'm struggling to ignore your torrid smouldering screams.
Why continue to haunt me like a vicious viper?
Firing shells of cyanide like a silent sniper.
iv remedy for change
I'm fortunate that my quill has become my shield,
for every wound, poetry is my remedy to be healed.
My ink is my saviour, bursting through my vein,
a catharsis for peace, as from hate I abstain.
First blush fountain azimuth of hued rays
wet patio shrub basket in the haze
zealous heartland tower cry as life force
celebrate and savour August rare days
Magenta skylines cluster silken clouds
blue ocean colour eyes that worship shrouds
a fancy surreal canvass so divine
it mesmerises jubilant bright crowds
Summer fun arcades stoke our dream world mind
gasps of red tint bliss a peak season find
earthbound poise dilates refulgent cascade
rocking beach tune fare blurs dark strain purblind
Sapphire plinths that anchor stoic ambit
vision on parade my high rise gambit
traipse amid the dahlia euphoric
seventh heaven rapture’s cloud nine orbit
White Sand and Temporary Oblivion
For an aching moment
I faced dazzling
Gypsum and glass as splinters
Of sunlight pierced the air
Bouncing bright off the landscape at
Alamogordo ---fat Cottonwoods and
not a tree in sight not
Here, the sight of the unholy Trinity
test
Blessed and blast
A fitting slant rhyme for our
slanted
times
askew at
1700 Silica Avenue in a decidedly
different Manhattan where no
Dandy boulevardier would dare strut.
Castle Bravo likewise
No place to dwell as we
Did our best
to incinerate the century
Trolling for a toll in the ashes of the atoll.
No sufficient payment was made.
But all that brightness
those purblind moments flirting
With nothingness all
retreated
Like genie to bottle
Heard whispering,
"I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds..."
Certain whispers linger
Portending brighter, more permanent
Non-being; so be it.
Oh, you do not want to know my tale,
But since you insist, I guess I'll just tell,
Originally from mystical India -- not Rome!
Some 30 years ago made the USA my home,
I revere Jesus, Muhammad, Buddha, Krishna
But keep my faith in love, peace and karma,
I read Shakespeare, Longfellow, Poe, Keats,
Omar Khayyam, Frost, Tennyson and Yeats,
Besides poetry and movies, I love to love
Books, traveling and fair ladies in drove,
Sometimes I blow hot, sometimes cold
And venture out to buy stuffs already sold,
I am like Don Quixote, at times like Rip Van Winkle
Sometimes Ebenezer Scrooge, at times Kris Kringle.
Balding, with a paunch, but I think young
There's not a passionate song I haven't sung,
Pensive, moody and mostly quiet
But when I talk, I usually am right,
Couldn't walk good with my bad knees
But I dance with butterflies and bees,
Purblind, yet I have seen places umpteen
I daydream a lot, you know what I mean?
Born in June, by nature I am sunny
And if I so wish, I can be quite funny,
But you wouldn't want to mess with me
I can be swift and lethal like Bruce Lee!
I am writing this jestfully but it's serious,
Ha now, don't go get nosy or too curious!
"Bio of Poet" contest by Tammy Reams
Searching the earth in pursuit of something that I cannot find
It makes it difficult to get my desires when I am hence purblind.
I recently met a gallant, intelligent, gentle, loving man;
with so many issues I can never understand.
What are his reasons, his motives, I do not know.
So many doubts, so many questions, I will have to take it slow.
But I am getting older and do not have all the time as before.
So here I sit with questions, doubts and fears galore.
He tells me I'm beautiful and sexy and in his arms I feel all aglow.
I would like to give completely, but how can I share with a man I hardly know.
So many moments, so many stories, it is all so surreal.
He has too many layers that I will need to peel.
How can I know what his true intentions are.
Sometimes his words can be hard to take in and quite bizarre.
Is he ready for a person such as me; am I ready for a person such as he?
I feel sad when he is not with me, and then I feel unsteady when he is;
this makes me into a volatile, capricious, unpredictable little Miss.
But the uncertainties of the situation make my thoughts run extreme.
So many doubts, so many fears I cannot take another hit to my self esteem
So, as I sit here pondering and wondering where this may go.
Should I take the chance and make this kind, gentle, loving man my beau?
Not wishing to cause offence offence when somone calls me 'friend' but are not really
one not bothering to ask others or me my name, only their mishappen mission counts.
Should I give stentorian rebuke the vehemence of which will make them go pale or
puke?
Should I pity them for the arrogance of their ignorance or the purblind of their
prejudice, as their predilictions count because they and their ilk only have the truth as
others are so false?
Should one smile at their bile or point out to them that the path to hell is made with
good intentions; as they are incapable of seeing that like all humans, they like me are
not infallible?
Should one rebuff them with irony that great Western weapon in debate,
so peppering their walls or undermining their drum barbicans in their want of debate,
mistaking their estate as the only state that should be state of the world?
Should the severity of the sure be sunk in the sea drowning their miasma of myopia?
Should gentle rebuttal not a rabid rant be prescribed or either fail because neither
conforms to the tail of their tale? All theory is grey but only life is green, but we must
not tear up the tares until the harvest is in; we all have reason, but in today's world
whatever we think we think, feel we feel, believe we believe, nihilise our nihilism, in
our existential state we all can be: false, fail, falter, fatuous. We must go on and on
living (like this essay at poesy!) our chances of being born were slim and we all
have to live on this beautiful blue ball bouncing through space-time making our lives
sigificant if love, reason and tolerance can be persuasive; trying do live together
dissuading others from following fanaticism; we must brew doubt as the partner of any
belief worth the salt of the earth otherwise the ugliness of the 'Four Horesemen of the
Apocalypse' will ride us all down forever.
blame the purblind Doomsters,
not me.
blame the ragged claws scuttling
across the floors of silent seas
for this Elusive Allusive disease.
don't waste time finding a rhyme
or making and matching a meter
a-muse yourself with the
bells, bells, bells
of the ice cream man on
a throat culture stick,
my depressed tongue
licking a malignancy.
forget that the void is awaiting
the weaver of the wind.
forget that whatever happens
happens again.
forget the question & break lances.
forget the language of the fallen tower.
forget the masterpieces built in an hour.
forget the feathered glory, the broken wall.
forget the great height, the genesis,
the fall.
forget the whale, forget the usurper.
forget the eagle tearing at your flesh.
forget karen, forget lenore,
forget ophelia, maud is gonne,
forget molly, forget penelope,
forget dulcinea, forget beatrice.
forget history, it has ousted Truth.
forget poetry, the history of
ousted possibilities.
forget this while i try to
write a real poem.
Extreme sadness looking far away to nowhere
Purblind affair undestined to last last forever
Self-centeredness had been fading the glowing flare
Her spirit may seemed dead but the beats were still there
Into her eyes, teardrops fell in a silent stare
Gigantic sorrows made her cry a river
Irreversible love is going to somewhere
In state of his despise, she loved him than ever
She dream to be with him together forever
His road of calvary she is ready to bear
But his long waited shadow really never care
He left her in the middle of darkest nowhere
She thought she was dead yet she is a wallflower
Thinking, wondering her nostalgic love affair
Inside our minds time often flows backward,
To rich sparkling treasures we left behind,
But the memories become somewhat blurred,
In a landscape where purple mists purblind.
There we find old gold, because time is kind
To the woman in the shoe with children,
Fading slow with Alice in Wonderland,
And Humpty Dumpty, from the wall fallen.
And old loves and those we knew beforehand,
Not to mention past sudden joys unplanned!
Written on 1/30/2022
For: D Forms - Dizain- Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
‘babes you need UV protection’
from top to tail and midsection
‘I’m African don’t be daft’
quite insulted she laughed
a masterpiece of self deception
but the tan worshipper in Cape Town
decided her skin must get more brown
took a book to sun
but it was ’Shantaram’
now she got blisters and a burnt frown
the sequel is called ‘Mountain Shadow’
900 pages to become quite aglow
thought she reflected her lesson
from scripted obsession
and consumed part two in the snow
she became frosted in flakes and purblind
‘babes some advice if you don’t mind’
the book has dangerous thickness
and then there is altitude sickness
Mount Kilimanjaro can be unkind
now she reads reclined in the boudoir
fact fiction fantasy and mysterious lore
Hawaiian tropic neath pajamas on cutis
sun shades and bedsores on gluteus
and wonders what else reading has in store
should she try with fins snorkel and mask
but corals sting and sharks have a blast
a most unappealing notion
why not apply sun lotion
and make misconception a thing of the past
14th June 2020
a true story and part of the family legend
I peer quite nervously about,
to wonder at the goings on,
how much of what is said,
is speculation on my part,
and how this dwelling rose,
from a clouded past milieu,
tales of the apocryphal I’d guess,
imagination stirred off course,
uncanny gothic motto purblind,
blue ink mist curtain veil stoke,
vivid mind’s black night visual,
amulet of congested fantasy,
macabre plot on the strain,
what surreal restlessness within,
dormant interregnum cast,
yet one seems drawn toward,
that dim lit swirling sight,
nest for midnight dervish,
and other brazen species,
dare I enter from afar,
perforce I court danger,
when nosey to a fault,
but therein lies the trap,
to be fascinated is one thing,
to stray beyond another,
why would one be so tempted,
by an entity with dark omens,
superstition is a term used,
to smear that which is unknown,
it is however justified,
when carefully used methinks,
a shrouded raven perched,
stoic, solemn sage as sentry,
ravens circulating chimney top,
symbolic ghost appearing numb,
somehow I cannot summon,
pluck up that innate gumption,
to confront a crippling fear,
before it duly swallows me,
now I feel driven without rein,
zany impulse at the whelm,
enigmatic pathway underfoot,
reluctant step a heavy booth lurch,
shattered eaves, torn leaves,
giant concrete slab tumble,
frail broken window smithereened,
taut ghoulish splinters glisten,
I dash against elemental angst,
when peeping warily into the void
Meg often told Josh
to try to be less reckless
but Josh had panache
when dealing with dangerous
too often being feckless
since days of sixth grade
their hands often intertwined
Meg and Josh displayed
how their main wants were aligned
though to harm Josh was purblind
Meg off to college
while Josh acquired war knowledge
strife without stoppage
where fears must be acknowledged
sympathy soon abolished
is no safe return
for what's lost along the way
only time to burn
no matter what others say
may come no brighter new day
when Twin Towers fell
Josh had rushed off to enlist
Meg's life went to hell
Josh’s words now like a hard fist
boy she'd known didn't exist
the world keeps turning
no matter how hard we pray
or strength of yearning
for that which was yesterday
tomorrow can be stone gray
forward observer
to Afghanistan he's sent
his own preserver
living in wind torn pup tent
letters described his descent
first months Meg worried
next mission Josh would be dead
their future buried
Josh's letters fill her with dread
terror lies in what's now read
tis time which smolders
forever change is churning
both growing older
with each thing Meg is learning
worry won't stop time burning
hold tight to your soul
into the void it may go
longing digs deep holes
upsetting the status quo
mixing up who's friend and foe
tick-tock does not stop
until tense mainsprings unwind
now their ball shall drop
just before ties will them bind
leaving little peace of mind
what scares Meg most
not if Josh is still alive
with return now close
Meg's uncertain she'll survive
what's become a nosedive
measuring last breathes
some things become worse than death
stolen by time's thieves
what we still want to believe
before we can start to grieve
dreading Josh's return
Meg would now prefer to hide
only time to burn
their fate's unwilling new bride
now caught on the same strange ride
only time to burn
while human emotions churn
withal yet we yearn
our ought-to-bes make downturns
changes cannot be returned
It boggles my mind
How man uses water to cook, wash dishes,
Bathe, and drink.
Yet, mankind
In its infinite wisdom you'll find
Doesn't think.
It boggles my mind
How blind
And hoodwinked
Mankind
It seems has purblind
When it comes to taking care of our water which
Is our precious life link.
It boggles my mind.
This is putting all humans in a bind
Not to mention the creatures who live in the
Surrounding waters to them this stinks.
Yet, mankind
Goes on its merry way inclined
Not to look like a fink.
It boggles my mind
Yet, who can figure out mankind?