Long Blinded Poems
Long Blinded Poems. Below are the most popular long Blinded by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blinded poems by poem length and keyword.
"Small Wars in Paradise"
A small war in paradise
where the walls
are dripping
hearts pinned
with golden words
A ghost behind
the eyes of a Fate
shines a light
on the self-righteous
misinformed deux Moirai,
advocatus diaboli -
what remains,
The Devil’s Advocates
blinded in the eye
the dull intentioned
Assizes
Intervention
comes at a small cost
for the Soul
they think is lost
Tomorrow always delivers,
The Goods.
Small wars in Paradise
where sharp swords cut
blunt forked tongues
beating tattoos in time
to a betrayal of trust
a banshee assassin
it’s a relative choice
Won
Lost
A ghost behind the eyes
haunts the hallowed halls
of manipulative minds
holding black diamonds and spades
digging what was, is now dust
in both hands
bloodied,
murdering the past
one day at a time
slowly smiling
holding the crass dead
in a deep holed heart
now becomes the
smoking refined blunderbust
executing sentences
orchestral manouvres
in a dark knight mind
a banshee assassin
it’s a relative choice
The Woman Won
The Past Lost
all in good time...
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"Tomorrow" / Ozzy Osbourne, Ozzmosis
https://youtu.be/isnqz-aJe4c
https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/minor-arcana/suit-of-swords/knight-of-swords/
https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/magician/
https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/strength/
"A Tryal of Witches"/ Sydney University -
https://library.sydney.edu.au/collections/rare-books/online-exhibitions/modernity/tryal.html
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bury_St_Edmunds_witch_trials
Bury St Edmunds Witch Trials:
https://www.visit-burystedmunds.co.uk/blog/2018/bury-st-edmunds-witch-trials
https://famous-trials.com/salem/2059-pleadinnocent
https://famous-trials.com/salem/2031-accused
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kangaroo_court
LYRICS/ "Tomorrow", Osbourne.
https://genius.com/Ozzy-osbourne-tomorrow-lyrics
"....if I wanted your opinion..."
For he has no mother to provide the food,
a poor little bird pecks at drifting cloud and eats the pieces
that bubbles up in the cloud as a mist to fill his empty stomach.
Fail to withstand midsummer’s burning heat
though the little bird’s wings were grown to cover
the darkening nightly air,
alas, he couldn’t fly in the sky because his wings
were grown from the piece of cloud, the only food he ever fed on,
and therefore, fell on the ground crying through the night agonizing.
The little bird, though, has eyes, he couldn’t see a thing
because he was blinded from the burning sunbeam
that pierced through his eyes.
He, now, is lying on the ground weeping
through the night to drive his misery away
oh, however, breathless.
The little bird once joyfully played with his siblings,
and pecking one another to show off their strength,
now, became a pebble by the riverside shore
because all his siblings though flew away
he failed to keep his small space,
the space was, rather than his own choice,
but was confined by the force, and though, he is now lying
on the ground he really never left the nest, and therefore,
he always an immature little bird.
For legend says that the Phoenix gathers ashes
from his remains that burnt in the furious fire
and soars in air to find his lost home,
does the breathless little bird’s heart beat?
or because lifelessness is another form of a life,
the little bird sobs in the night from the piles of stones
flooded by the moonlight at the lifeless riverside shore.
Sometimes, I feel completely alone.
No matter how much I try to reach out,
or try to connect.
Sometimes, I feel unwanted.
No matter how much love I pour out,
or try to perfect.
Sometimes, I feel misunderstood.
No matter how much I try to explain,
or try to correct.
My delivery
always seems off or lost in translation.
I’m told that I’m “overthinking” or labelled “crazy.”
Sometimes, I feel inconsolably sad.
No matter how much I try to pretend,
or try to mask.
Sometimes, I feel broken inside.
No matter how much I try to mend,
or try to bask
in the ambience of joy and life.
Sometimes, I try to block out the whispers
of birds in the night.
Telling me that something is not right.
Telling me to trust my gut and run the other way.
Telling me that I’m blinded by the light
of my own rose-tinted glasses.
Those whispers have followed me across oceans and seas,
through familiar and unfamiliar species.
And yet, I still fight to believe my own heart.
Fight to hold on to the parts
that have been shown to me.
The picture of what will be, shall be, can be…
The promise of what’s to come,
and not what it is.
The constant voice that is as elusive as a ghost.
That appears, disappears and reappears at its own will.
A voice that creeps up and says “I want this,”
“I love you,” “Don’t go.”
Words that are intangible and float in the air.
Yet, hold so much weight in my heart and soul.
That pull me apart and make me stay out in the cold,
begging for warmth,
begging for more.
Breadcrumbs that feel like a feast in the moments I receive them, reminded of a time when my tummy was once full.
Holding on to the hope that with each promise and chance provided, we get one step closer to having all the tools.
Needed to build the home and settle in the nest.
It seems in my search for a love that is free,
I realized that all I needed was a safe place to rest.
Paradoxically,
I fell in love with one who has no desire to be a home…
Who has no space to hold.
Who wants to be free.
Oh perpetual winter night
You have devoured the pride of the one brought up prideful,
You have single handedly robbed her of her morals,
Her virtue you’ve served on a platter,
And what remains of her is a shell
Hollow, void, filled with nothingness.
Oh world without end,
Scream...yell...call out...shout aloud to your young,
Rescue her from her promiscuity.
Her eyes have been blinded,
Blinded by the promised pleasures of a life more seasoned than her.
Shake her with vigour that she may wake from her slumber,
Allow her to see reality
For the end of the road is in sight,
Restore to her her pride, layed waste for all to devour.
Luyanda Ngema
Beneath the inscrutable sky, blinded by divided eternities,
We are islands of yearning, adrift in fate,
Each bearing a mysterious longing, a desert within the chest,
And with every heartbeat, my sorrow robustly grows.
Fate, the ancient dramatist who in astral maps has decreed
That we be star-crossed lovers, struck by the curse of the falling star.
Painfully sweet is our allotment, a share of shadow and nectar,
Tasting fleetingly, in profound flight, from the sweetness of ephemeral intimacy.
This is the light we endeavor to clasp tightly,
Like Odysseus, shipwrecked in an epic of froth,
Clinging to the beam that thrashes amongst the violent and caustic waves.
You remained locked in a loveless alliance, you've watched too long.
Belatedly, we discovered each other, drawn by a sublime magnet,
Which seemed, in its ephemeral moment, too intense to be contained.
And thus, nature staged its wild banquet,
A cruel show, unintelligible to hearts, stealing away our happiness.
Under the canopy of the pine trees we lay -
from the poem 'Under the canopy of pine trees by Eve Roper
UNDER THE CANOPY
Under the canopy of the pine trees we lay.
Fervent scent gives undertow noses a heady sway.
Four eyes closed, we swallow the coniferous forest.
Love thrives in our paradisiacal protraction of rest.
Blinded to adversity, verdancy thrives in aurora splay
As our minds run into the river of sunlight to play.
We make promises — nothing sovereign outside our love.
He squeezes my hand, our engagement rings think of
Only this moment, the splendor of our crashing lips.
Our bodies envelope each other like an eclipse.
The force of nature — the arcadian elixir, its bliss.
I shall nevermore forget the chill of reminisce.
4/10/2020
Poetic lines from a Poetry Soup Poet - Eve Roper Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Silent One
It's raining.
Boats of thoughts are sailing.
Outside children are playing,
And enjoying.
It makes me remember my own childhood days.
Those unforgettable golden days.
Nothing to worry about,
Just play all day, scream and shout.
Only motive was to chase my own dreams,
And eat chocolates and creams.
Also everyday I used to try to have a glimpse of my own crush,
And waiting for the right time as I was in no rush.
But now things have changed.
Even people have changed.
But that is not something unusual.
Time and circumstances have changed each and every individual.
Now we just keep looking for jobs,
Ignoring our heart even if it sobs.
We all are in greed for money,
But deep inside we are frustrated and lonely.
Greed for money blinded us all,
We think it as a rise but deep inside we fall.
Even our dreams have faded away,
Now we are working like a machine everyday.
There should be a limit to our own greed.
A limit to what we need.
Because blinded by our own greediness,
We forget our own happiness.
Even though this is not the end,
But one day it will my dear friend.
Because forever is just a lie,
And one day everybody is going to die.
Thinking about it what's the point of enjoying the rain,
When there is so much pain.
After all human beings are all same,
So just make a difference in your name.
Lost coin... that was I before...
yet precious and costly am I now in God's sight
Formerly a lost sheep...
but priceless and valuable I have become today
Lost daughter ... a prodigal...
currently, I'm a divine heir, adopted child of the Father!
Blinded by the god of this world, lost was I indeed
as 2 Corinthians 4:3-4 expresses.
Decades ago, obscured with pride's radiance
My mind was shut from believing
"the glorious Gospel of Christ, who is the image of God."
Then, I was wondrously led by the Way,
the Truth, and the Life Himself (John 14:6).
Surely saved by His grace through faith,
I am His workmanship, re-created spiritually
along new birth in 1985 unto good works,
which the Saviour has before ordained
that I should walk in them,
verily asserted by Ephesians 2:8-10.
As His found child, I am risen with Christ...
thus, I seek heavenly pursuits,
setting my affections on things above
Colossians 3:1-2 proclaims.
With earnestness, I beseech my King Almighty
by His grace along His wisdom
to enable me walk worthy of God
Who has called me unto His kingdom and glory.*
*I Thessalonians 2:12
February 18, 2019
In the beginning God
though we are blind we pretend to see
Paul was blinded by the light
but could see again more clearly
Hate has many friends love has fewer
they play poker for high stakes you and me
Nothing is free everything costs
Love has a price so does death
Love has many too many definitions pick one
Like the tempting fruit in the Garden of Eden
Pick one appropriate for the occasion
So defines a life
Even the wind and waves obey Him
Life has enough troubles without creating more
They all ate and were satisfied
Hunger for that which brings life
And all who touched Him were healed
The body needs healing but the soul more
They saw the stone had been rolled away
Frank Black Blacharczyk
Waiting for love: a Sonnet
Only the beauty that lies within
Marks the truth of love and soul
For underneath the plain façade
Does hide a destiny and goal.
But try as you might you cannot see
The truth of love with blinded eyes
You cannot love with all your being
Until you have cleansed all the lies.
So mark the place where passion starts
Make this is common starting place.
Unless you vow to stay alone
For true love is full of truth and grace.
You want the love of mine alone to touch your gentle heart
You can must ask me just this once and I am ready to start.