2014 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 8

Sorry, early risers! I slept in a little this morning.

For today’s prompt, write a blind poem. Three blind mice, blindfolded, “she blinded me with science,” “houston in the blind,” and so on. Maybe this is the one poem you try to write with your eyes closed.


Write a Poem for a Chance at $1,000!

Writer’s Digest has extended the deadline to their Writer’s Digest Poetry Awards competition to November 21. As you may have guessed from the bold statement above, the winner will receive $1,000 cash!

The winning poem will also be published in a future issue of Writer’s Digest magazine. And the winning poet will receive a copy of the 2015 Poet’s Market.

Even poets who don’t win can win, because there are prizes for 2nd through 25th place as well.

Click to learn more.


Here’s my attempt at a Blind poem:


by the light of the moon
reflecting off your eyes
in the heart of my swoon
that releases the sighs

of a thousand balloons
in the dead of the night
enveloped in your gloom
but still feeling all right


roberttwitterimageRobert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of the poetry collection, Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53). He edits Poet’s Market, Writer’s Market, and Guide to Self-Publishing, in addition to writing a free weekly WritersMarket.com newsletter and poetry column for Writer’s Digest magazine.

When he has nothing better to say, he turns to rhymes and romance–and usually a touch of abstraction.

Follow him on Twitter @robertleebrewer.


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188 thoughts on “2014 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 8

  1. Yolee

    Blind Spot

    I was told about the spitting
    and how with clay He made
    my eyeballs. Some people
    later murmured as to why
    He used that method to heal.
    If I was made from earth dust,
    The only inconsistency here
    is that burning sunlight.

  2. Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    blinding love
    by juanita lewison-snyder

    blind to her affections
    equating love with jail
    sharpening the stick, she thought
    it’s high time he learned braille!

    © 2014 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

  3. hohlwein


    I feel sure
    there is some dimension
    to which I am blind, dumb or insensate

    Because there is this yearning
    That is not quite from the skin
    or from the ears
    or the tastebuds, waiting

    It is near to me
    within perhaps
    leaning more throughout the day

    following the movement of something
    that isn’t light

    but is like it

    Perhaps it is eternal time
    whose sensation eludes this body
    its mortal occupant
    as getting color from the touch
    of the flesh of the peach eludes
    the blind girl
    carrying such beauty in the lap
    of her apron
    as she could never


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