Long Blindfolds Poems
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A frozen pulse a synergy and soon she was iced like cold hard glass.
Poor Clea in her purple orchid dress ensconced in a crevice of time,
from the icy tendrils of Ikthalon. Icy winds blow from the bowels of hell
she is rendered still as ice pellets pelt on her weakened body;
He wraps the sun and blindfolds the stars then plummets to earth with demonic intentions to search and destroy.
Along comes an omega mutant " Iceman" with a
hard packed intention to stop the villain from exploiting her.
Radiating intense cold from every tendon and nerve in his body,
he wraps a gossamer fabric round her to thaw her gently from
the frost bites and nips of her emissary, the evil Doctor Strange.
A multi-verse madness of evil it was but as the clock struck twelve
in Time Square, Clea defrosts and sashays forward in her pencil dress.
Using her tele-ported thoughts, she enters another dimension where
Icemen are heroes and Spiderman rules.
This is where the story ends folks. Tune in for a sequel,
same place same time, reporting to you from Time Square.
Aug 7 2022
Cathexis
I see you silhouetted in a vague haze,
On the far end of this breathing hallway,
Way off in the strange distance there,
Amid the suffocating cigarette smoke,
And the obscene wallpaintings,
Of nude pale women wearing necklaces,
Reposed motionless on verandas by the Seine.
Then, I look and see you squatting there,
Under the tinkling chandeliers,
Aglow as with a halo,
Sainted only when wearing white lace,
As you are now, goddess of mine!
Shhh! Listen!
I hear violins outside, two or three of them,
Playing Traumerie in the rain.
Come here, and let us explore with blindfolds,
This side room of esoteric pleasures.
Shhh…It is unlocked, and there are pillows inside,
Numerous soft cotton pillows,
Piled wall to wall, up to the knees,
And the elbows.
Come here, goddess of mine,
And let us dive into this tundra
Of plush velvety incinerations,
This mind field of amazing meltings.
Lady Sings the Blues She oftentimes reminisces
And laments humming songs about her past.
Lady Sings the Blues
Her verbal abuse on occasion hits harder than
the waves in the ocean. Lady Sings the Blues
She walks 3 steps forward only to be pushed
7 steps backward, at least, it seems. Lady Sings
the Blues.
She refuses to give up, yet is a seeker for the truth
to uncover veiled realities that surround her. Lady
Sings the Blues
Deceptions and Disappoints once we're her friends
they thought they had her captive now the blindfolds
are removed, Faith has become her found friend.
Lady Sings the Blues
We faced each other in a circle as
we sat on chairs inside her classroom; then
she had us close our eyes. Perhaps we used
some blindfolds. I’ve forgotten details, for
it happened in my high school years ago.
Our sense of sight was gone. She walked around
the circle, giving each of us a taste
of something we would savor in our mouths.
Then each of us would guess what it had been.
We must have sampled spicy, sour and sweet!
I can’t recall the foods we tasted or
how many times we guessed them right or wrong.
She also had us use just sense of smell,
and later, she played sounds for us, and we
made guesses as to what it was we’d heard.
This happened in the first week of the class.
It stands out sharpest in my memory,
but I recall we’d share our written work
inside a circle. This I loved so well
because we heard each other clearly then.
I can’t recall the name of her who taught
Creative Writing. She was young and sweet
and knew the trick of using every sense
to help us be in tune with what we felt.
And that’s why we used blindfolds that first day!
Those words like “imagery” I’d only read
about in English class would come alive
because this woman knew the secret of
good teaching was to let her students learn
from real experience, not just from books.
I don’t recall the many things we did,
but all the fruit I bore from what she taught
is with me still; the stories that I wrote
and little poems saved since eleventh grade.
I kept no work from any other class!
I never guessed those many years ago
would find me on a thing called Internet
or that I’d end up writing mostly poems
when little stories used to be my “thing!”
Real writing days came once my kids were raised.
But always I’ll recall that precious class,
The funnest and the most inspiring one.
Perhaps a bit of what I am today -
A teacher and a writer - I owe to
The miss who taught Creative Writing Class.
Brenda Chiri-Carroll's "Who Has Inspired You the Most In Your Life" Contest
(I have learned this teacher's name since I wrote his back in 2011. She is Ms. Deborah Rozeboom)
She won’t tell me her name
But I could decipher the puzzle of her fame
Why she embraces politics with no blame
Yet, her reign is pain; as the rule of her game
She has seduced our kings
Creating selfishness in their inns
As she multiplies their gains
And propel us to ruins
This woman blindfolds all sense of innovations
Her honey-bond love leads to degradation
Hence, she distorts progression and gyrates at destructions
Thus, people call her the pleasure that destroys nations
Alas! Her name is corruption
But her actions I would call Delilah’s seduction
For she possesses Samson with her beautiful potion
She is the Greek gift of colonization
Coiled up for winter slumber it had rested the budding pledge
Soil still moist the promise is waiting for blossoms and sedge
To give host to migrating birds returning from busy regeneration
A miracle planted by knowing creation and heartwarming sensation
Swallows circle over hedges filled with daffodils and berry shoots
Below the wild brush with spring in its steps an abundance of roots
Sketch channels of promise faith and nature from deep undercover
As if a cave dwelling hermit is reunited once more with his lover
The vernal seasons blossoms on polychrome canvas and realign
Meaning in the eye of change with perpetual motion designed
To pause for thought reflection silent prayer and humble appraisal
Meanwhile spiders wed on their cobwebs spun from witch hazel
An owl proposes to her mate and sends a call into rustling breeze
Which embraces in gentle caress the unperturbed colony of bees
‘Honey’ they shout ‘its time to leave the hive once more for food’
Jelly Royal for breakfast and wild herbs to improve on our mood
Meanwhile gelatinous creatures awaken on shore lines and beaches
Unaware that we are hankering for freshness and gathering peaches
The serpent claims it is about apples and dates for paradise earth
Gaia watches over an abundance of kindness and reincarnated birth
Soon it will be summer and fields will harvest unless the grim reapers
Call to join crosses and tombstones overgrowing with climbing creepers
The equinox reminds us that we are impermanent and life is quite finite
And that with star dust and good fortune the moment beats hindsight
Past future and present are really synonymous expressions of being
Blindfolds and double vision mistake the moment for the illusion of seeing
Here and now the circle of life spins our short insignificant vital span
Inflated by greed and possessions when in truth there is a different plan
02nd May 2020
Written for contest Spring Rhyme Poetry
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
Temptress beside the river
she beckons me from a hill
Lust permeates my body
driven insane by her shrill
Temptation does pirouettes
Dancing naked within reach
unquenched and oozing fire
let me taste you, I beseech
Temptress blindfolds my eyes
her suiters are nothing like me
Ego seduces the conscience
when passes are seemingly free
Temptation is wearing a veil
insatiable between the sheets
Together we undulate in sin
as her hair caresses my feet
Temptress is a hall of mirrors
warping everything I can’t see
Projecting a sirens darkness
into surrealistic fantasies
Temptation controls the mist
morphing through my dreams
Brings me inside quasi heaven
slave to her orgasmic screams
Temptress is an open invite
closed mind’s always cheat
Spiked was the vamps chalice
alas addiction’s bitter sweet
Temptation, I sup her last drop
then go searching for desert
Back into the vales of yonder
one hour before she gave birth
By
David Kavanagh
I wished that I had been born a moon free from eclipse
waxing and waning for howling wolves and young lovers
but my folks named me Stella and expected my respect
‘stardust’ they said is the essence of fortune and power
‘shine your promise and fortune follow our ancestral path’
‘I’d rather live in a cave than to be a constant reminder’
‘when right becomes wrongful opposition is duty in turn
but the template was clear and my enlightenment distant
freedom I sought with craters valleys and circular passion
the journey was dark in spite of crystal clear instructions
of how to follow and abandon dreams of independent light
in the shadow of difference I suffered lightning and blindfolds
tried so hard to be loved and embraced for who I really am
in the end learnt that labels don’t matter no matter what they say
02nd July
Ebon bafflement descended
from the Sun-bleached sky;
A penumbra of illuminated lies,
this world needs to be reprimanded;
A joyous ballet of obliteration;
Fooled by the doe eyed sweetheart,
they stare into dank rotting art
disguised as impending salvation;
Wearing cheap plastic glasses,
the audience so easily led by a trend;
Commanding naked eyes ideas ascend
delaying the hypnosis of the masses;
Temporarily deprived of the norm,
blindfolds serve as a wake call;
So begins a civilization’s cleanup,
reform is now the one playing hardball;
Magnetic pull of a weary shadow,
that bold charisma brings a brief pause;
Evolution echos a bright ring of applause,
with understated yet monumental flow.
Once
Very close to the place
Where there's a flame
There's a lower level
You can aim for.
Shoot the spinning orb
With a Hell Shot thrice
Cause once you've taken
The blindfolds off
You can put them
On someone else's eyes.
Don't go assuming
That i'm harmless
With a switch on it.
Sustain your quest,
The ruin of your creator,
That whore of Babylon
Who lives down under.
Dive into action,
Live up to your dreams
So's we can perform
As a tag team for the challenge.
Please fill out the contract below:
* I ------------
asks...........to serve me
** i ---------------- accept
* to be signed by the Dominant
** to be signed by the submissive