"blindest" poems
You were my perfect poem
Brief but of many lessons
Our life was the perfect paradox
For love I thought we could rhyme
You hated all I ever loved,I loved all you hated
You said dirt was clean and the sun was cold
You desired tears for years
And resisted all advances of happiness
All you hated I had to forsake
For our love was at stake
But like a toddler you had fun with my feelings
Leaving our blindest love in darkness reeling
Yet my greatest victory was losing you
My severest pain was my sweetest gain
You schooled me through experience
My all-time worst teacher
You were my perfect poem
Eternity would be short to describe the undescribable
For when my hand is strong to hold the pen
Then my heart is weak to pen the words
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 10:02 AM UTC
A handy Mole who plied no shovel
To excavate his vaulted hovel,
While hard at work met in mid-furrow
An Earthworm boring out his burrow.
Our Mole had dined and must grow thinner
Before he gulped a second dinner,
And on no other terms cared he
To meet a worm of low degree.
The Mole turned on his blindest eye
Passing that base mechanic by;
The Worm entrenched in actual blindness
Ignored or kindness or unkindness;
Each wrought his own exclusive tunnel
To reach his own exclusive funnel.
A plough its flawless track pursuing
Involved them in one common ruin.
Where now the mine and countermine,
The dined-on and the one to dine?
The impartial ploughshare of extinction
Annulled them all without distinction.
5k
parting clouds over the field of wheat
split the gray into a sea of golden rays
bright enough to leave even the blindest man at his feet
passing wind slithers by
carrying with it seeds and soft cries
tears from the protector of all the crop
the lonely scarecrow who stays planted
his tune the most melancholy of acoustics
a tranquil coffee shop
birds circle frightfully overhead
for they do not know their avoidance leaves the scarecrow all but dead
he who never meant any harm
but who's appearance raises cacophonous alarm
cursing the sky, the scarecrow shouts
yet, the scarecrow will soon get his wish
once his stump dries he will be free with the coming drought
so as the farmer prays for rain,
he questions God's whereabouts
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 8:05 PM UTC
I.
perhaps
the stupidest love
the blindest love
is also
the purest love
(and perhaps
the stupidest
and blindest people
are also
the purest people)
II.
love for the sake of loving.
for the way your name stains my tongue
so berry-blue
and the way our gazes hold
tight like a rubber band
do not love for your sake or mine.
and most of all, love
at your own risk.
III.
i love you whole
from the top of your head to the
tip of your toe,
even the grime under your nails
(but that's gross man, please cut them)
IV.
i love you unconditionally
but leaving ***** underwear all over the house?
you're testing me.
V.
i want to love so much that
love drips out from my wounds
and out of every pore of my body,
and you'll say
EWW *** LMAOAOAO
...
f*** you
VI.
i want my love to be flawed
like you, before that morning bed selfie
#wokeuplikethis
my ***
VII.
i want my love to take your form,
both your chocolate abs
and your flat ***
<3
VIII.
no, you're not special
i could love anyone-- just give me time
but i chose you
huh
you're special after all
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 4:11 AM UTC
with the weight of the world on my shoulders,
hands scrabbling at my back,
i wonder when i stopped being icarus
and took on the role of atlas
and if it was foolish of me to wear wings of wax
and expect them not to melt
i miss that flying freedom.
feeling on top of the world, soaring through a blue sky
with you, my apollo, a guiding light;
an enveloping warmth,
it felt like nothing could touch me
even on the coldest nights
i knew enough of science and mythology
to know i'd fall hard,
that candles drip and melt
and when they melt, your skin burns;
i knew that looking into the sun
would surely make me blind
it didn't feel like such a hazard at the time
i've never had 20:20 eyesight.
the blindest man is the one that refuses to see
and why see when i could feel?
throw caution to the wind, take flight...
i flew and i fell and i loved so i drowned
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 1:56 PM UTC
Her love for him
bright enough to
turn his darkest hour
into a sky full of stars
His love for her
fragrant enough to
make it's presence known
to the blindest eye !!
Nov 16, 2020
Nov 16, 2020 at 2:30 PM UTC
In that blindest lane
I had gone in search of a door
When on the glass pane saw written
Cadaver Store!
Stood there awhile awed
Rubbed eyes if seen it right
My sight wasn’t a bit flawed
In that hour of perfect light!
Don’t my mind fervently pleaded
Walk through that ominous door
My curiosity left it unheeded
Pushed me in Cadaver Store!
Luminous lights reflecting on mirrors
Caught me in my own stare
Bar my fear’s pulsing tremors
There wasn’t a living soul there!
Haven’t for long been needing this help?
Spoke from the glasses an unseen voice
*A deserted place to meet your self
See what have made it of your own choice!*
Looked back at me corpses of seasons
Laughing mocking hating on my face
For always finding enough reasons
To let them die in silent distress!
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 4:13 AM UTC
again your words garner tears
i am fought from within
between wretched smiles aching with the shame of words i've shared
listened to, copied, written, "shared"
and yet never truly shared
those doors are gone: i have shared
and one has listened, shining love as hot to bear as sun...
refracted in my tears the warmth
is as a solar flare of unexpected love--
distrusts flung of self for undeserving care,
i waver-wallow, sing another cracking grasp,
slurp my sniffle-ramen soup to comfort ten-year wounds
all open now, shining, wincing in the sun.
i would bare my bones, it seems,
in urgent need to stamp the world an honest love.
what have i waited for? better words to come and scare us into final sum?
a final balance done, as if a math could send us there?
where? where has the daylight gone and come?
how old this starlight sinking from
i try to laugh and fail,
giving fame another final finger-flipping off
as that one girl said once, long forgotten, "cradling
her last fledgling flying ****
and kissing it on to fated final flight"
yes. discovered now by one, i heal in single sun
i beg from those in shade or hurting from my blindest words a balm
a balm of knowing deep i seek to undiscover harm...
a balm of knowing deep the wholesome love of self that overflows to all...
Mokume told me, "love them" as i struggled with their hate,
he asked my love as to her love for me,
he asked me of my love i held for her--and which was more,
the love of self or love of her
and so i wavered in the meanings love has come to bear
while he taught stridently the meaning of Yoruba masks,
the bowl atop the symbol-studded head
the brims so overfull they shower all who look,
or dare to touch its bursting river-majesty
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 1:46 PM UTC
Fly beyond the seamless edge of wonder.
Flap your broken wings just a little bit further.
The feathers that pin to your skin, ripple against the speeding wind.
So fly into the sun's heat on the coldest of days,
and release all of your discovered power into
the heart of the moon.
The smile of a star will scatter light inside your soul.
Fly above the worst of the fight, looking upon the blindest of them all.
Embrace the sight of the invisible.
Twirling in circles,
creating mindless art.
Let yourself drown in the bottomless air.
Fly through the clouds,
swimming in all it's passing glory.
The trail of your life will leave it's mark.
Retrace the steps and you'll find yourself heavy,
the wobble in your knees will fail you.
But if you continue to fly,
then you are untraceable.
Dec 15, 2010
Dec 15, 2010 at 3:30 PM UTC
OH IT COULD BE IT WOULD BE
Oh it could well be and it for sure it would be
Even if the sun turned out its lights for real
In the largest crowd wondering searching for you
I'd find for my soul knows how your soul does feel
There is not another love another aura another one
That sends the same loving vibrations through me
Within a crowd of enless my soul would confess thers
Only one electronic seductive love thsts within thee
A most romantic bolt of loves own lightening I feel
Even within the most crowded room I feel it ever so
Words could explain any more than the pain of a flower
Having just been picked instead of allowing it to grow
Or how a dying wave feels upon a shore to disolve
Like a green leaf blown away from its mother tree
Like the parting of a cloud being seperated thus two
Or never heard words never having been in a dictionary
Only as one together for eternity untill times done
Could explain the spontanious combustion of us both
Without any form of a test us two are perfections best
To love as none has in all of time our hearts own oath
As soon as your soul is near my soul it knows no fear
My very heart could measure your distance away from me
Within the blindest of light without a trace of sight
I'd know deeply within that again together we'd be
terrence michael sutton
copyright 2018
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 9:30 AM UTC
In the back-alleys o’ the Baker’s house, past the boatyard in Balley Streets,
the town’s only iron-boy sang farewell to the town’s only creaky-feet.
Since Chicken Feet was but a rusty coupling, those lanky chatterboxes
have stirred up whispers, whines, and more than their fair share of problems.
They leaked such an unbearable racket, the sea-folk of the Balley Streets
dubbed dear, unfinished Chicken Feet—the carrier of creaks
For he did. Everywhere he went.
But on that foggy morning, the iron lad stumbled ‘pon a touch of fortune.
A magic-man—an honest fellow by Chicken’s careful estimation
Wandered ‘to the Balley Streets. And, boy, did he have jus’ the thing!
From out his bag o’ opportunity, a pair o’ human feet would spring!
Snapping up those lanky lookers for all the coins in his pockets,
Chicken rushed to empty those noisy devils from his sockets.
At last! At last! Daydreams bounced around Chicken’s iron bean.
The carrier of creaks would finally have his handsome feet!
Though dressing in those fondest forelegs would prove quite a twister.
Joints fell loose. Buckles stuck. Casings cracked between his fingers.
He forced-n-frowned, frowned-n-forced, until his lookers had enough.
The patient pair had played their part, but Chicken’s madness grew too much.
Thus, the handsome human feet leapt on their softest soles.
They danced past Chicken’s grabbing hands and skipped right out the door.
Surely, there’s still time! Chicken shouted with-all his heart,
for the blindest hope was pumping steady through his iron parts
His future ‘scaping by the minute, he reached down to the floor,
pawing for those squawking crutches he wore so thoughtlessly before.
But the walking, talking migraines were nowhere to be found.
Somewhere ‘long the way, the creaks had tottered outside on their own.
Too legless for the chase. Too legless now to stand.
From that day forth, Chicken Feet carries creaks on his hands.
Dec 27, 2019
Dec 27, 2019 at 2:49 PM UTC
To even the
Blindest eyes
And
no sound to those
Who can't hear
Can actually see what's real
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
What gave them the right to point
Snigger behind the hands of hate
Because I love words
That dance around my mind
I tried to tell them what it means
How the words come alive
If you just use imagination
You can see anything
But fists they clench
And snarled their lips
Asking will words stop the beating
And laughing from the mouths of fools
I tell them let me tell you all
A story of super heroes
And how they can be whoever
With words that can dance around
Inside the blindest mind
So I guess to them I now say
Consider words as your friends
And all those people that use them
Don't deserve your fists of hate
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 11:53 AM UTC