Long Blindfold Poems
Long Blindfold Poems. Below are the most popular long Blindfold by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blindfold poems by poem length and keyword.
From the safe little window in the building up high,
She could see the smoke drift away,
And looked at the four walls her life had become,
And decided she could no longer stay,
So she escaped to the plaza of people with lives,
Smelt all the jams, coffee, the bread,
And put on her blindfold and scattered her thoughts,
To begin a new journey instead,
Now blinded away her vision was clear,
To reach the ferry boat to depart,
And go where the smoke of the ship sails to,
To chase all the love in her heart,
Once on the boat her blindfold held tight,
She knew what she wanted to see,
And that was the passion stirring deep down,
The thrill in the chase to be free.
She was a Goddess
Who
Tippytoed across his eyelids
Appearing in a lucid
Dream
She danced between
The strumming of his acoustic heartbeat
Her exquisiteness would keep him playing that song indefinitely.
If only
they could seek refuge in his temporary daydream
Love hit him like a temperate
Tsunami
And he had no
Restraint or desire to fight it
A moth attracted to flame
In the blink of an eye
She transforms
Into a bellydancer, bending and swaying
raising her butterfly wing
cloth above her head
winding her hips hypnotically
.....
..
then
A painter.....
her usage of colour
acrylic brilliance
and
you are now speechless...
The ballerina
with her hands above her head
The spotlight resting
and
she is stunning..
The epitomy
Of
the female Artist.
She wraps her
Her satin belt
Over his eyes
And he rises effortlessly like the sun chasing
The
......
.
.
moon
She dips and sways
And he rests his hand
On
Her hip
Nervously in anticipation he
Begins to shake
no longer he can wait
so
he
Removes his
Blindfold
as she rests against the window sill
and her golden hair shines like an earthbound Diety
She is the closest thing the world will ever come to a real life Van Gogh painting
Her laughter,
Filled his chest
Like the wind
Through a sail
Giving him direction,
Her Name was
Elegance
And
She
Was
An artist.
A blindfold is taken, removed clean away
A guvenor is standing.' As bidens mouth goes astray
He needs help in the matter, thats just all that it is'
As his mind goes to quickstep, as its all his old biz
Yet his minds beyond recall, like the young men who cross
Thats causing anxiety, its seen right round the world.'
There are reasons, and dis-reason' it seems the state flag got furled
Got some dust on its colours' yet thats blown clean away Its flying, through the whole state, where brave still; live today!
And a nation is choosing maybe while it still can'?
Enacting lawful state perrogatives moving women and men
To awaken, and to actions' to repulse and repair.'
Maybe gain more real leaders? the type that really do care.'
On the Wagon…
I’m on the wagon
Out to slay the dragon
His breath of fire always one step behind
I’m on the wagon
Out to slay the dragon
With my only weapon
The power stored within my mind…
Cleaning up the act
Facing all the facts
When you were burning you know you couldn’t see
Removing the blindfold
The truth is seen and told
Now you’re cooling down and fighting to be free
You’ve got to get away
Find someplace to stay
Immune to temptation as it looks for you
Start it once again
The beginning of the end
You’ve failed to see all that it has yet to do
I’m on the wagon, out to slay the dragon
His breath of fire always one step behind
On the wagon, out to slay the dragon
With my only weapon
The power stored within my mind…
Look straight into the mirror
How do things appear?
Can you make out through the haze, the bloodshot eyes
Remember the times you said, that’s it?
All those times you’d never quit
Can you, yourself, live with all of the lies?
I am on the wagon, out to slay the dragon
With his breath of fire always one step behind…
Social uselessness is a virtue of its own,
Those we cast aside, glance at and then away from quickly,
Lest they notice, and smell our guilt,
Are free to live immodestly,
There being no need for posturing
When one's invisible.
Trees that grow lumpen or misshapen
Are left to live long and go unfelled,
Never to be transformed into pencils and park benches.
They carry on, in love with the sun,
Spreading their arms to embrace the sky
Season upon season;
The children skip over their roots
And lovers loll beneath their boughs,
Their shade relieves the weary,
Their age comforts the old.
No carpenter's ambition
Will ever reach their wondrous hearts,
Then, perforce, transform them.
When they kick you, unwanted
Out of the hospital psych ward,
Your illness not important because you've done
Nothing to make the newspapers,
You can wander like a prophet, complete in yourself
Living your truths without needing an apologist.
So it is with those we look away from,
The odd shapes among us who don't fit our spaces.
There's more to be seen by looking between things
Than can be found by looking straight at them;
The unshaped space around us speaks with an incessant tongue
Interpretable only by the spirit.
So if you really want to slip the blindfold for a change
To see the ones hovering around the fringes,
Start by studying their shadows;
If they should deign to speak,
Listen with your eyes,
If you want to feel them,
Reach deep inside yourself and rub the sore spots
You spend the day denying.
Reflection sustains reality
Like dewdrops on a leaf.
Try to understand this like a lesson and you'll fail,
But accept it without judgement;
It will come to you.
No man finds more truth than he who looks for nothing;
This is writ upon the bark of twisted trees.
Read it, then know what wisdom is.
I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member.
—Groucho Marx
Adventure is just bad planning.
—Roald Amundsen
Must Be A Carnival
Lady, what did you see
advertised? Boat leaves the dock.
Your apparel, a shock.
Going cruis’n…cruis’n you say.
No time
to be lose’n.
Lady, did you pack light? …for
romantic nights. Take a peek
out the window. It’s after dark.
Tourists, look a bit screwy,
you’re near. Must be a Carnival,
it’s not.
This ship is a swing’n.
Everyone’s going out
for some drink’n.
You weren’t expecting
hot chocolate. Your Summer dress
blow’n in Alaskan winds.
The cold wrapping your legs
sans warmers. Your sandals
flopping upon the deck.
Lady, people are staring.
Have you beamed aboard?
Did someone blindfold you?
Were you buffaloed? Petunia,
are you dense? Pretense,
that you are at ease.
“I meant to dress this way.”
or perhaps it was a dare.
Daring for sure.
Lady, the ship looks a bit
lopsided,
with you.
A Political Machine
Two Standards
Tom Wright
7-5-2016
After laying out charges
the FBI suddenly flipped,
Now Lady Justice has had
her blindfold stripped.
Someone lent his opinion
on a two year old mystery,
A day now ordained
to be written in our history;
This day it was proven
you can be, too big to fail,
For a free pass was given
that have sent some to jail.
Delving into the past
I see a greedy politician,
Service wasn’t about country
but mostly about a mission.
The promise to minorities
and the poor was the same,
Mark the ballot for me
and you’ll get in the game.
The story given women
was you’re being abused,
And many didn’t see
that they were being used.
Untrue things were said
just to garner our vote,
With one hand on our wallet
the other on our throat.
Many votes will be garnered
due to promising free stuff,
No self serving Politician
would even dare to rebuff.
Their mirror reflects lying,
potty mouthed, boozers,
And that, according to many,
will paint these folks losers.
Being morally corrupt,
will be their legacy, and fame,
I hope they repent before
God whispers their name.
This family always play
by a different set of rules,
And those who can’t see that
are just plain fools.
Tie me up in chains, tell me submit to your will, knowing that deep down inside it gives me an undeniable thrill
See in a way I am just as sick and twisted as you, because I am asking for you to do things to me that I normally would never let anyone do
Go ahead and blindfold me so that I can’t see, your touch is enough, that is all that I really need
Just the desire for you that is pumping through my veins, is almost enough to break me, it’s driving me insane
I never thought I would be this person, this masochist here on my knees, begging for the one that I love to punish me, to give me some relief
We truly are the perfect pair you see, you’re a sadist that loves what he does, and me I love the pain you bring
Not because I enjoy it and not because it is what I want to do, the only reason I am down here on my knees complying is because of you
If this makes you happy and this is where you come alive, then let me venture into your darkness where there is nowhere to hide
I know the risks and I am ready and willing to take a chance, if this is what makes you happy then who am I to question that
You once told me it’s not so much the infliction that turns you on as much as someone willing to do this for you, and in me you found the missing piece to the puzzle that makes up you
I know that I should be cautious and wary and not let my guard down, but I know the real you within and soon he will come around
If this version is part of you then I want to know him too, because when you love someone, you accept everything that they are, the tortured, broken, and bruised
All that I ask for in return of my deeds, is that you will still make me feel how you always have down deep
That you will protect my heart, that you will enrapture my soul, that you will do whatever it takes to make me feel whole
I want to hear that voice, not just the demanding one, the sweet sensitive one too, I want you to make me feel wanted in every way, with every part of you
And as I lie in your arms after the show is through, I hope that I still hear your sweet whispers in my ear that our love is true.
Such an ironic plight in blinding light of day,
his appreciation, the cruel blindfold o’er eyes,
after his dark time served in dank cell of dismay,
taken out at dawn, a bright morn for his demise.
Rough restrict of ropes constrict, last embrace he’ll feel,
as he’s tied tight, upright, the execution post.
For his people, freedom from oppression he’d steal,
heartbeats, time ticks down, he thinks of those he loves most.
TICK - TOCK - TICK… he wonders if thundering heart's heard
and curses his body for betraying his fear.
A grim line set taut in the stubble of his beard,
hailed a hero, fetor of human fright fills the air.
Tick - tock - tick - trussing death pole lends his back support,
tremulous dread at life’s end - defiance steady,
as the commander begins with the last resort
and raises the rifles, brisk command of; “READY”...
Tick - tock - tears and angst co-mingle behind grimed gauze.
“You can kill this roused rebel, but there’s more the same!”
“Freedom fighters! We're willing to die for the cause!”
With rifles at the ready, a clear retort; “AIM”...
He yells “You can all go to HELL! You cannot quell”...
rebellious heart afire flaring down to the wire,
“this revolution tolls your bell for it will swell!”
TICK - quick as a whip’s lash, the booming command: “FIRE!!”
Susan Ashley
11/20/17
**execution by firing squad, in the past sometimes called fusillading (from the French fusil, rifle)**
Blind
My eyes are dim, I do not see.
How could this happen, to someone like me?
I’m not a bully, a thief, or a cad.
Just a hardworking man, like my grandfather and dad.
As children we played a silly game.
Called blind man’s bluff, that was its name.
With our eyes covered, it’s just not the same.
We remove the blindfold, and we can see again.
Being blind is not like turning out the light.
The world is not dark as a moonless night.
Shades of gray without shape body or form.
To a blind man’s sight, this is the norm.
Why did this happen, to someone like me?
Was it God’s way to teach me pity?
My eyes are dim, I cannot see.
Why did this happen, happen to someone like me?
By
Josehf Lloyd Murchison