Long Blind Poems
Long Blind Poems. Below are the most popular long Blind by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blind poems by poem length and keyword.
26th &27th January 2012
By Sashi Prabhu (zeauoxian)
Alone I sat on the wet sands,
Of the Sernabatim beach lands.
The sun reflected blue sky,
On the greenish grey waters it looked so dry.
A sweltering sunny afternoon,
With the heat I began to swoon.
Alone, I moved myself into the waters warm,
The breaking waves look to me like many a lifeless form.
Warm waters I sense splash unto my waist,
Cool salty breeze sting my moist lips and chest, sweat erased.
The frothy waters seem so white,
Feral imagination within me is beginning to run regressive and makes me feel all right.
Alone I am rooted on the sandy shore,
I have within me, coming to the fore,
Feelings… deep feelings inside ignite,
Need to hold on to them tight,
The feelings incite,
A poem in my mind’s eye I feel and now see, that I would have to write,
Without any spite.
Alone, I am in the waters warm,
The breaking waters lash against me and quickly change form,
To myself feelings that turn to spirity words I begin to recite,
As I cast my eyes on nature around me from within springs delight,
And in its own right,
The poem begins to rewrite.
Alone, I am in the waters warm,
My feelings have begun to rewrite,
In my mind without any spite,
I am now filling myself with delight,
As expression is flowing freely in its own right,
And will transcend on to paper in black and white.
Alone, I now sit, drenched,
To the sands entrenched.
Melts the noon,
And evening falls attune,
The sun reflected blue sky,
Has now swooned away and I turn a blind eye.
Alone, I now sit, drenched,
Content in myself and with no feelings wrenched.
Gratified….soothened…satisfied…pleased,
Relaxed…happy….at ease and contented……eased.
Autumn tosses leaves around, like it’s playing a fun game
Waiting for you to be a kid again and jump in the leaf piles
Hide in the colors, while taking a breath, smell freshness in cool air
Maples are ready for tapping, to make syrup for pancakes in the morn
The dirt road is not as dusty, it settles more with season’s time
Welcoming visitors from over the hills and around the bends
Every footstep, every handshake and kiss in the wind
Love is spread in color, for autumn isn’t blind
And as the sun shines on ruby apples, waiting to be picked,
The seeds from milkweed fly on by, to start new life elsewhere
As bare trees wave goodbye to the last leaves hanging,
And the golden sun lowers to be set, colors burst in the sky…
Above silent water with calm reflections in a clear composition
- For autumn isn’t blind -
Heidi Sands
12/11/22
Placed 4th in the Still Life Autumn Scene Poetry Contest. Sponsor: Eve Roper
Love is non-mechanical
it doesn’t crank, pinion
or always work dependably.
In cavalier moments, I thought I knew
something of how it all works—
it’s apertures and shafts—
its grinds and reciprocations.
I’d judge it’s motions
work its levers, judge its spins,
and address its slippery angles.
You could call me obsessive
but obsessive people don’t
obsess this much.
You could call me compulsive
but the compulsive aren't
this compulsive.
All I can do is poise, balance
or swipe a little black credit card.
It’s the only magic I have.
I can’t turn bread into wine
or fish into water.
I can’t make the blind walk
the deaf to see or the lame to
taste again.
God reserves some miracles,
keeps them as close to the vest
as cards.
Jugglers work the circus,
mimes thrash to communicate,
and tightrope walkers fall.
.
.
Songs for this:
Viva la vida by Cold Play
When There Is Love by Karen Sokolof Javitch
The Rainbow Connection by Sarah McLachlan
.
.
How about a Christmas playlist! Because Christmas is in 10 days!
www.daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_29.mp3
I walk deeper and deeper into my own mind, looking for something while completely blind.
Nights embrace only makes me travel deeper, with the road only getting steeper.
Not knowing who I am or what I need, I will continue my 1 man stampede.
Searching for myself has become my addiction, staring at my hollow reflection is my confliction.
I resort to pouring my heart out in the form of text, pondering upon what sign will start my next quest.
The quest to finally know why im here,
The path im headed down is so unclear.
Casting the veil over my face by day, and removing it in the comfort of night, I will continue soul searching, until my purpose is in sight.
-Downed Jester
Life is often painted in black and white
nothing darker do I fear
than the stygian plight of death.
My malaise is carried with unbearable weight
remembering each waking moment when
I didn't say "thank you" or "I love you."
Self-reproach is a penance I can never fulfill
because the dreadful thief of death
took you from me in the ebon reach of night.
I'm sick of hearing the meaningless words,
"You're lucky to be alive. Life is beautiful."
My life is a beautiful lie now that you're gone.
I'd give my life to find a way to you.
An alabaster portal is locked to me,
a pitiable wretched sinner.
If I were to paint it black would there be a chance
it would be blind to see who asks entrance?
But my fear of death...
keeps me from reaching into the pale to find you.
I cower in shame.
Damn my trembling hand that quivers and shakes,
for the portal denies my entrance.
My mind is an unassailable weapon against my will.
It paints in oils that are always blurred with kohl
and the agony inside of me will never be consoled.
Not always an easy feat as a day can run so long
Day after day you repeat like a ball in ping pong
But you have that anchor that holds you so steady
This you can be sure in keeping you from the eddy
We experienced it, as each of us acknowledge this
But I can not omit many others who just might miss
As the message is clear but to those who are blind
That is who I hold so dear and praying He will find
A reward that is great in a Mercy that is unending
Wanting this as your fate the message I'm sending
That every closed ear may once again be reopened
That it will all be clear and your heart too will mend
Don't just up and walk away He loves you too much
Woven throughout your day with such a gentle touch
Simply asking to continue why Jesus had come here
By showing His love for YOU that He hold's you dear
Ephesians 2:4
But God, who is rich in mercy,
for his great love wherewith he loved us,
These thoughts we frame and title
hang now from long defunct dendrites,
made branchless by the passé and pointless
now all strung-up upon threadbare strings.
Ones or twice the hanged are molested
by magpies seeking baubles for their nests,
yet most go unrobbed and remain as still as death,
or they twist in chill uncaring winds.
These thoughts shaped to mind-images,
collected together in empty galleries,
these works nibbled at; edited by blind mice
who then hurriedly hide from sight
the slipshod carpentry of our words.
These portraits of spent passions
may still be gazed upon
by the idle few, who beyond all reason
choose to elect a passing cloud
to admire or decry,
plucking out that feathery fragment,
as if it were the real feature
of the faceless and yet untold.
There are many thing's I would like to say to you
But
Words can only do harm
When your world resides in the palm of your hand
And the lightning strikes at very most 6 foot away
On a rainy summers day
With hailstorms like tennis ball's
But as they say
It can't rain all the time
Unless you are stuck in line
Closed for lunch
When you are running late for your dream job interview
And the sweat has ruined your suit shirt
Isn't it ironic
That some might say
Tomorrow will bring a brighter day
Knowing there is a better than 78 % chance
We may have faced our Waterloo
Or the wheel of future will turn
And I shall awaken a stronger man
Cast aside my Battle scared war tin helmet
And rise above my feral station
Only time will tell
If I am destined to rot in hell
Or sound the division bell
Ascending up to heaven's gate
And god awaits me
With either a smile or a scowl
But hey ho along the yellow brick road
I stride deaf and blind
Merely a passenger along for the ride
~Master Painters~
( Cinquain Chain )
Paintings
Some beautiful
Masterpieces I love
The Mona Lisa with that smile
Arcane
Arcane
Delightful ones
Paintings that bring much joy
Rembrandt, Vermeer, Van Gogh, Kinkaid
Masters
Masters
Of great paintings
God given gifts that glows
Study their work looking at them
Brings joy
Brings joy
Many stand time
Picasso, great painter
J. Waterhouse, just mention some, are
All great.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2012
December.05.2017
“Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.”
- Mark Twain
~Author's Notes:
The " Cinquain " is a poetry form or style developed by the Imagist American poetess, Adelaide Crapsey.
songer.co/song/epzclpaimyh9s5cai9h5ub15
[Verse 1]
I cried in the kitchen, you looked through me
I asked for your heart, you gave me your need
I stayed through the silence, through cold and pretend
But love isn’t love when it won’t let you in
[Pre-Chorus]
I held it together, threadbare and torn
You only looked up once the feeling was gone
[Chorus]
You miss me now, but you never saw me then
When I reached for your light and was met with the end
You feel the hurt now, like it came out of nowhere
But I lived with the leaving long before I left there
You miss what you lost, not the woman I was
You love me in sorrow, not in our love
[Verse 2]
I whispered my fears, you turned away
Called me too heavy, too much in your day
I gave you my quiet, I gave you my peace
But I lost myself trying to help you release
[Pre-Chorus]
I broke without breaking, I begged without sound
You’re grieving a silence that’s always been loud
[Chorus]
You miss me now, but you never showed up
When I needed your soul, not just your touch
You feel it now like it’s suddenly clear
But I begged you to listen for so many years
You miss what you lost, not the woman I was
You mourn in the silence, but never heard us
[Bridge]
You say you were scared, that you didn’t know how
But I needed someone—not someday, not now
You found your emotion the day I moved on
But I cried like this once, and you told me be strong
[Final Chorus]
You miss me now, but I needed you then
Not the ghost of a man who comes back at the end
You feel the pain, but you never took part
In the loving, the holding, the hearing of heart
You miss what you lost, not the woman I am
And I won’t come back for a half-hearted man