BLINDFOLD
I hear childrens voices
filled with laughter and noise,
hopscotched in endless streets,
mingling in sometime dreams.
I hear childrens laughter,
pitching above the hum drum,
of spectacled, so called carers all !
For your own good merchants.
I hear childrens tears falling,
In a rain storm of scary thunder,
beating a retreat in bricks and mortar.
Those merchants of care, no where.
I see the gaggle of childrens tongues,
burning in that mist of cordite,
spectators; comment do nothing.
Carers eyes burn in guilt and greed.
I see children, i see children,
I see nothing, commiting to human!
In hells morning, in flames of religion,
I see dead children, i see nothing.
Eye covering
Uncertain surprise
Beyond sight
No see through
Guess and wonder
Not knowing
Sometimes a capture moment
Uncertain
Feeling like a darkened curtain
The thought of caution
Careful vibe
Once the blindfold comes off
Surprise
A double murderer
Shot before a firing squad
Justice or revenge?
An eye for an eye
So, the old law book conveys
Punishment for sin
Society’s way
To rid town square of wrongs
Yet, death row awaits
The hangman stands by
The masses don’t know his name
Pulls the trap door latch
The cycle repeats
With no real decrease in crime
No one ever wins
Justice will make deals
With the guilty to win cases
Takes her blindfold off
Death for some killers
Others given terms or pleas
For the same offense
Lex talionis
The law of retaliation
Not meted out fairly
It keeps ticking my pain away
this heart filled with sour gall
fading memories keep pace
time speeds and slows like the sea
crashing and flooding a single moment
you’re chained and can’t get freed
being whipped by maverick waves
wanting to drown beside the cliffs
bobbing up after every dive
engulfed in a frozen snapshot
wandering lost in a darkroom
haunted by sounds of long ago
I sit my hands are a blindfold
The blindfold I see
for the fairness we gain,
not one be distinct
for the laws to remain,
but what of the chains
we have bound to our hand?
The scales of such weight
and the strength they command?
Were it mine to define
I would say it as such,
though sadly some wouldn’t
agree with as much.
That this is the place
where our senses collide,
our collectives of knowing
where truth strains to hide.
Where the people shall bring
what they’ve seen and they’ve heard.
What they’ve touched and they’ve smelled,
be it sane or absurd.
To protest the distaste
of a tongue being used
to act in bad faith
through a trust in abuse.
There lay the knowledge
of harm that’s been done
tipping the scales
to vantage for one.
In accordance of what
we believe right and true,
this is how justice
is served unto you.
For never shall merely
the sole sense of seeing
be all that is used
to adjudicate being
Let the weight of our knowledge
be put to the scales
lest to truth behind justice
stays hidden and fails.
He laid a gentle kiss on her face as he synched his tie tightly over her eyes
He had special plans for her tonight
She didn’t recognize the voice that said “you’re all mine now”
Then the room began to fill with him like slow pouring sweet tea
His desire surrounded her
His touch covered her body
His lust was legion
He was they
And they were there to devour her
He placed the blindfold carefully on her eyes as she traced her fingers on his skin
He pushed her hands away and laid a kiss on her face
The room began to fill with him like slow pouring sweet tea
His desire surrounded her
His touch covered her body
His lust was legion
He was they
And they were there to devour her
POET- Wilmot Benny Bullo
POEM- CøRrupTïøn, The blindfold
Blindfolded like that of the movie Bird box
Our minds have been blindfolded, and at times I ask myself will corruption
Which has been married to our nation and seek divorce be eliminated?
Integrity has become a thing of the past and has been laid down to rest since and it grave has never been decorated with savouring colours but with colours of frustration
Corruption has rained in every part of the nation and our houses have been flooded to the roof
Now we are homeless,and we roam the earth with tears
Killing anyone who stands in it way and leaving their families in tears and justice will never be served cause the doers are the investigators
Hailing those corrupt leaders at the highest level and putting an end to those lives who fight against it like an animal
We no longer see the positive things because our eyes are covered in dark by that endless blindfold and only God can save us from this agony
at the other side of river
are the stolen roots of healing-moon-giving trees
left by wayward wind.
my skin whispers—
wind is traversing to reach the corn field of druid
for another robbery;
that it’s a good chance for me to be
a thief and rejuvenate my lacerations-covered heart.
without blinking,
i jump from bank to stepping stone to stepping stone
to stepping stone.
[if i leave a stone unturned, stone wouldn’t
wait to haunt me like guilty for( long/ ever) ]
another jump—
my right foot on the old
stepping stone and i am
river’s sensuality.
i am wet,
wet as mad hen,
wet as mad hen.
wetness adds to the weight. i am heavy. my body
is a loaded chariot without horses and charioteer.
/* blindfolded blindfaith */
Once upon a time, lived there a man
With anchored bed riding on waters still
But in surprise, wakes oft to troubled seas.
Pulled in and out by waves sudden and hard
He wakes oft with weary temper-stained hands.
Can only recall how he roared loudly
In a dream of the night with scenes groggy.
Now with scared heads bowed and hidden cuffed hands.
Other times he wakes with both eyes stolen
And legs in fierce chase of the next delight.
Climbing hoops and coins, then meets an endless height.
Sorry shadows then trail his feet swollen.
Other days, he wakes up to meet new weights
A brooding list of paybacks to be done.
This man like a skillful snake lies in wait
But suffers even more after the dealt struck.
Such sad lot just from him closing his eyes.
Only if he saw this shared dancing blue.
Only if he had the strength still to choose
Then he would have smiled as he opened his eyes.
jurisprudence -at the confluence of affluence and influence
Under the paint, beneath the layers,
Before the brush had arrived,
She was drawn all in grey, sort of straight lines,
And she was bound to be blind,
There where all types of shades covering her world,
Her world so vividly real,
Shades for the mystery to be secretly deep,
Shades that would help us all feel,
Then the paint walked on in, taking over the scene,
The paint in the darkest of black,
And filled all the spaces between all her lines,
Filling her vague to abstract,
She began as a line beneath all the paint,
Forever on this flat she is trapped,
Trapped by the hand of her dominant lover,
With her eyes bound tight with a strap.
I’m blinded by malice and jealousy fills my soul
all the sinners are done with,mine ; the last show.
I blindfold twice around my head
no self-righteous man I might see
no truth, no law, no nice
no good shall pass through me.
I’m nothing but one echo
in this pool of millions serenading a whim
give it to God, it has been given
so sinners shall continue the sin.
I never seek the light ,
in the dreary corners of my heart
a closet full of nibbled carcasses,
hope, a sculptor’s best piece of art.
I sin in aggression, I sin in pain
then sinning with a gin and tonic
and sinning becomes a game.
who father in heaven, if heaven might be
should banish me in hell for all eternity
for never is a man completely happy,
mortals do chase that unattainable win
Me, I’ve lost the fear of losing
some losing it has been
I fasten the knot behind my head
so sinners shall continue the sin.
I feel the sea washing over my pebbles
My sand, the flesh, faltering into
A great wash of darkness pouring over me
Like the spill of a vast ink well
It is two skies clashing like
Folds; a curtain. Shaded
And saved by a generous
Hand, blinding my eyes like
A mask. An all-giving blindfold
Passing for only a moment
Delicate as fresh snow
It reveals a secret. A new
World, refreshed and vibrant
Buzzing like bees in this great
Sea-swamped hive. It is a
Very simple pleasure.
_
The insomniac finally got some sleep! Not a full night, but sleep is sleep.
it's good when playing
pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey.
just don't walk the plank,
operate a vehicle,
or sign legal paperwork.
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