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Free Verse Philosophy Poems | Free Verse Poems About Philosophy

These Free Verse Philosophy poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Philosophy. These are the best examples of Free Verse Philosophy poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

Recording/Re-playing/Recording/Re-playing

The farm
     and the porch light hums 
the sound of another 
orange dawn.

Burnt up – crisp
      aching new reaches 
of the imagination turn 
from corn
      to wheat
to the pungent shade
of dried blood on hands –
kissing corners of a mouth
never kissed.

Sweeping ‘cross in whispers 
two thousand years
      and more, come
words on the flat-line horizon,
dripping sideways,
like a red cat's eye marble 
on a circular seesaw
that knows no bounds;
rolling infinitely back
     and forth - 
ringing through ears that were once
in that ago (can you hear it?)
hearing the coming of a storm 
     being heard 
by another set of ears,
in some other when –

     some other marble.

When, speaks the unspoken.
When, treads where none may tread.
When, grips the barren outcroppings of space –
playing the unending moments –
where no other question hence forth

can grip.

Night sounds come in floods
of mauve,
      and quiet apricot;
slicing through oceans,
unsung,
      where no ears hear.

The farm: echoing, lowing and fawning –
Trying to stay true 
      to form,
bleeds into the fibers of a dream
once lived –
recognizing its existence
through the act of a moment, 
      lived.

The girl turns to face 
the enormity
of all she has yet to hear upon 
      the brazen, blazing horizon;
she strips down to goose bumps 
on the skin
that God gave her; 
opening her mouth to hear all
that she is –
 
      breathing in the dawn 
as it breaks.

The farm notes this coming.

The sky knows;

The wind knows.

The earth knows - relaxing
at her feet
      exhaling
through her soles,
resounding through the mouth
of the un-kissed,

breathing through this land; 
humming through porch lights,
spinning through atoms,
sifting though heavens,
recorded through lifetimes,
      and through into another’s
open mouth.




© Kristin Reynolds 1/9/09


Details | Free verse | |

I Water My Garden

I water my garden
Every day
I tend to Wander and Lust
Between the wild and the sweet is no place to be 
Like home

The rush of the wind over the river dry
Cuts through the garden mine
And compels the dust to whisper
Whisper, I know you,
Little Noise White

They whittle my garden
Down to the snow-white bones, the lies
The seeds, like every flake of snow, lie
Unique and terrible each
Unique little white lies

Over, my garden
One after another unlike the other proceed, the others
Ill-fitting coats in the high, high heat
One layer after the other – each and every one, a lie
Peel one after the other and in lies another
 
Fallen to the ground too late for roots
The hard-won shoots shoot
They shoot the sky
They cast little shadows behind
My garden, I

The wind blows
And the seeds are carried away
They grow in fields strange
Where others tend to the wolves and I
Like the black sheep, stray

A dream,
Drawn by the clouds,
The hard-won shoots shoot
They shoot the sky
And cast little shadows behind

Little stormcrow, leave
Leave your place 
Is no place to be like home
My garden, I
Water, every day

The water is rising
And the seeds are floating away
They drown in rivers strange
Where others swim in the water and I
In the deep end, lay

At the end of the line, lie
Shoot the sky and fall
Too late for roots
My garden, I
Grow, every day

The sky is falling
And the shoots are tumbling away
They die in meadows strange
Where the grass grows inside and I
Like the black widow, play

Too late for roots, I shoot the sky
And I cry
Water, I
Garden, I
Every day

- A. H. Sewell ©2015
https://www.facebook.com/HelanaSewell1


Details | Free verse | |

Buttercups and laughter

She sings in soft tones,
her magic exists beyond the obvious.
Listen closely to her wanting,
She is wrapped in a trancendent light.

A dreamer,
chasing white rabbits.
Grasping for the infinite,
with delicate hands.

A moth, 
Dances within her luminosity.
Flying on yesterday's wings,
carrying smiles that are meant for tommorow.
Witness her as she waits to exhale.

A daisy chain,
tied around her wrist.
A future promise to be kept.
For within her spirit,
exists a burning passion! 
She awaits one who is worthy,
of her consuming flame

Although she is unaware,
hers is a temporary sadness.
Happiness flirts at the edge of her dreaming,
waiting for an open window.
His shadow hidden behind frosted glass.

Shades of green,
turn brilliant yellow!
Buttercups dance around her feet.
Her laughter floats across the meadow.
Happiness runs to her open arms.

Together they skip, to her apple tree.
For hers is a faith that trancends the temple.
Her spirit sought and found salvation.
He had been with her all along,
I can see it in her smile.
The rain has passed and sunshine resides in her eyes!

For Catie Lindsey's contest. 
I hope she sees beyond her shadows to her field of buttercups.


Details | Free verse | |

Color Me

Color me white, or color me black. Color
me brown, or color me red. Color me 
yellow, but color me to be just me.

Color me anyway you want. You are the 
artist, you know what to do, just capture 
my beauty and let it show through.

My beauty is not on the outside for everyone 
to see. My beauty comes from within and 
few people have seen.

Color me with the colors that you so much
love to use and when people see this painting,
they will see themselves in me.

The people will ask you - why did you put so
many colors on me and you will tell them - because
the beauty I did see.

The painting is now finished, the artist has done 
his job. A painting of many colors, that he is very 
proud of.

The colors bring beauty to the painting on the 
wall, but if we were all colored blind - we wouldn't
see any colors at all...

Copyright: written by
Lucilla M. Carrillo

Comments:

I wrote this poem because through out life 
I have seen a lot of injustice done, because
of who we are , or where we came from. We
did not choose to be who we are, or where
we came from. God chose that for us. I don't
think God made a mistake when He made us.
He had His reasons. We are who we are, that
can never be changed. We live in this world.
We are God's Race...


Details | Free verse | |

In The Moment


i wanted it...my God i wanted it

...but how do you do that...

                                        

                                                             HOW!

the second you touch it...



                                                                                it's gone.

it's the curse of being alive.                  After all...what are we?


                   a bundle of thin blue wires...some red tubing

our largest organ is our skin...What are we?

           our brains are unreliable...our emotions uncontrollable.

you want to grab it...hold it...

good luck!        it's a lubricated bar of soap, you can't hold 

i've tried...my life has been nothing but trying to hold on to it.


how can you be in it?   how? if you can't even hold it...

i feel like an astronaut 

                      moving aimlessly in space with no tether!



love would be my first choice.



                   when i delivered both my daughters at home

pulled them out carefully from their mothers womb...Gone!


                           their lives from one second old to now...Gone!


women...oh how i have loved...made love

                                        i have several doctorates in love making

i hold women more carefully 
             than i do an over bloomed flower
                                       as to  not lose a single petal.
i refuse to breathe 
                  just to hold their scent 
                                                 as long i can.
                                                         
treasure their face...
                 die in the act of a single kiss
                                                                  dress myself in their skin.

still
   it can't be done
          as soon as it happens
                                                it is gone
                                                         absolutely  
                                                                            gone!

you can't live there        
                 it is like Brigadoon.     
                               you'll never find it again.


you can't really live in the moment              

not really

it is gone as you live it...

the present, is immediately...the past

it is fleeting             

never to be held

                         i know...
                               i want so many moments back...
                                                                       just to live in them.
                                                                                      you can't...you don't.

we live what was...

dream of what might be.

live in the moment? 

as my words hit the page...the moments passed.  

in the moment? 

yes! i know i've been there

i just can't hold it. 

                      the smell of the ocean...
                                it's loud heavy metal music...
                                               the meandering haze in the air
                                                              that "i am invincible" feeling


the first time you held her...

your one true love now gone.

                     
                     the chiseled pillow look of clouds 
                                                          looking down at you
                                                                     as if you were the one.

that huge neon moon...

sits low in its living room.

a baby breeze 

touches lightly your breath.


                                 a gripping moment 
                                                 of unconscious union
                                                                     moments galore...


in the moment?

 i've tried!

it's always left as it happens. 

gone quicker than lived

and than 

only imagined.


12~28~2014
Maurice Yvonne
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Contest Name: In The Moment 
 


Details | Free verse | |

When Cities Yell


what grows from these petri dishes? when will these hives with their metal monsters their deceiving smiles their artistic like visages stop breeding, stop growing, like a virus? what of the fertile land they cover, the resources they consume? what of their ravenous appetite? and barely a forest untouched. 17~12~2014 Maurice Yvonne


Details | Free verse | |

The Circles

Looked at the outside of steel window
Around in the dark, awesome feelings into the mid-night air
What the news was brought in the feelings!

Eyes of the orphan cat was flaming on the corridor.

Waiting for the light in the window 
Dark vision comes down into my eyes by cycle-weariness
Down from one circle to another circle in time-blindness

Who stands here, the Islamic old man!
Frustrated vision!
History of terrorism was carved on his burnt body
He wants to say something!

A white-complexioned Christian young man stands into the neighbor circle,
Surprised eyes! 
White-skinned history was printed on his blood-stained body 
He wants to know something!

A dark-colored Hindu boy stands into the third circle, 
Illusive vision!
History of third world is awakened on his envenomed body
He wants a little smile!

The old man, young man and boy are coming forward from the circles
Great distance... Near ...in front the room... 
Who are you? No reply
They disappear into the tuberose equipped black and white photo of my father
Dad is smiling, I am senseless! 

Tears are dropping from the eyes of our cat on the corridor.

SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA


Details | Free verse | |

A Collapsing Yippie

It seems like everybody around me has forgotten,
they're stuck on a thought again,
saying alot and whining more.
Preying on their own self-doubts,
they have so much,
yet see so little.
so stubborn.
Can't they see that 64 inch TV,
or feel the beating of the jets in their hot tub ?
They measure their lives too much,
they have fallen into the "Great American Dream Sham"
as my friend "Chad Williams Lowther" would say !
Its a ruse,
an antidote,
so they can make changes in their lives which they normally wouldn't do,
because they lack the strength and insight,
so they get stuck in their minds.
Wheels spin,
tears fall,
marriages crumble
and the damn kids are really suffering,
cause they don't have the latest video gizmo box.
Thoughtless over-reactions of self- abuse,
much like an addict who is never satisfied.
"The Great American Dream Sham" sucked them in,
they forgot,
macroni and cheese,
kool-aid,
saturday morning cartoons and matinees.
All replaced by todays goals and desires,
which are masquerading as tired souls trying to find solice,
stuck in "the Great American Dream Sham"
and now saying all there is to say,
Hail, Hail to me 
and all who are free,
all who go their own way
and all who see though it !




Details | Free verse | |

Movements of Beginnings

                                                                   written on time’s page
                                                        with finite syllables of dust
                                                  he spelled my heritage
                                           from earth to sky
                                     along an umbilical line of faith 

                                 we fluttered from the lips of fingers
                           fully form for purpose
                       written on an invisible calculus
                that bring monarchs where birth mark lingers
            and salmons somersaulting sluice and streams
      turtles, penguins, and herons white wings
netted in design with nested tabula rasa  mind 

I have an argument
   against the beginning begotten from a bang 
      before atom or element
         I have an argument against force and natural laws
             at work without mass or embodiment
                 for embryonic gravity or forces weak or strong
                    I have an argument
                        that the singularity could not become more than fragment
                           of energy again if a single atom explode 
                              its forces flocking away from fusion
                                 for energy fission to explode

                                  a theory 
                         flimsy as spiders web
                  dethroning my majesty gulped 
          in primeval slime unlinked history from love
  minimizing the particular time of our becoming on ships 
that met the stagnant eyes of swampy thoughts … shuddering 
                                    in vain
                     the whip cracks louder than pain -
             and on our black blistered backs … crumbling 
soils in desertification threw some syllables skywards for mercy
                               starvation winds with sickle clouds of rain  
                                 they lie again ... leaving us without inheritance
                                    for all our labors, lost, and grievance
                                      what bang can buck the strain 
                                          and bring us broken souls to glory again?


Details | Free verse | |

The Toilet Of Our Existence

It was what it was A stunning photograph of a toilet Ironically it was in the end a microcosm of life today Creative and positive in its composition Limited and depressing in its stark reality No matter how you paint it we are in the toilet of our existence No matter how you condemn it it's how you deal with it what you make of it and in the end even a shit house serves its purpose


Details | Free verse | |

Oneness

Oneness
                   Authored by Chuck Keys

It had no color,
Lacking shape, size and dimension.
It wasn't moving or breathing.

There was neither aroma nor taste, not here or there.
Touching was useless because it wasn't physical.
It was indistinct and limitless.

Thinking multi-physically
Multi-sensually and multi-psychologically 
It wasn't here or there and it was.

With no distinction, 
It looked like everything else,
Or it could not have looked like everything else.

It never made me feel good nor bad,
Nor happy nor sad
Nor quite nor trite.

In our world of joy and destroy, we sort and distort,
Looking more on the surface and less on the inside,
Ready to judge and be judged from outside in.

The "oneness" of mankind stretches beyond definitions and limits,
From outside to inside and from inside to outside.
We are one distinct and alike world of "oneness."

Differences exist for differences, 
Therefore, differences don't exist.
Only "oneness" exists.

DEDICATION:
This poem is dedicated to Dr. Clayborne Carson and The Gandhi-King Community,
For Global Peace with Social Justice in a Sustainable Environment.  
www.gandhiking.ning.com


Details | Free verse | |

Beauty in my Palm

You are the wild flower in my palm
With no stem to keep you anchored to this covetous earth
You are the fragile thing I dare not cup,
As your petals whittle away under the wind
And flit unfettered in the air;
Exaggerated fear leaves my fingers numb
Hungry need leaves my fingers twitching
And my hand is paralyzed by turmoil
As every breath of wind takes another petal from me
And brings to my lungs, my chest and my heart
An overwhelming scent of need-

You are the wild beauty in my palm
And I dare not hold you to my chest
For I fear to crush you
To know first hand
That caged beauty, is beauty no more.


Details | Free verse | |

The Butterfly

I pursued a butterfly through the woods.
It fluttered, just always beyond my reach.
The more I pursued, the more it teased.
Stalking it, like prey, it just fluttered away.
I found  a moss covered log to rest,
Sitting in a serene, secluded spot.
A butterfly came ,sat upon the log.
I caught it in the palm of my hands.
It's wings became a rapid flutter,
Trying to escape my grasp.
I opened my hands , freeing it.
If we pursued things in life,
They become unattainable.
If we sit quietly and reflect,
they become attainable.
Chasing our dreams may be
as allusive as the butterfly.
Finding them as beautiful as the butterfly.


Details | Free verse | |

In Perfect Equilibrium: A collaboration with nikko palmario

    An inner earthquake rattles him again
    as the fiery sun dips in the horizon
    Can he too, hide his halo as such?
    Closing his eyes as he folds in his wings,
    wishing he could take it off
    He trembles...must he embrace darkness to know of love?

Sun breaks over the mountain range,
her obsidian skin absorbing the light.
If her body is like a canvas of night,
could she reach within herself,
beyond the horns and hooves
and find her own hidden sunrise, deep inside?

    The darkness is more reassuring
    than he could have ever imagined-
    something to truly weigh his goodness against,
    in a finely-tuned balancing act.
    And as the stars can help guide a lost soul,
    he too possesses a true north within.

Oddly enough, she welcomes the radiance,
such a stark contrast to what she has been used to-
rays drip into her like ink diffuses in water,
a momentary burst of chaotic brilliance,
followed by an even stillness.
She cannot escape it, becoming a part of her.

    The rooster crows for the third time,
    so he opens his eyes to this daybreak,
    emerald mountains shimmering in the morning light.
    Through abysmal depths, he arises and now realizes
    Darkness comes as the light falls, it is inevitable...
    yet Light also takes over that darkness.

With the thickening dusk,
clouds turn into amethyst ribbons.
The day's warmth thawed a part of her
that was kept frozen and dead for eons.
Now, she would do everything in her power
to keep it pulsing--to keep it alive.
__________________________________________


    Upon watching them, sheer fascination takes over....
    even though these two are on different paths,
    they had both achieved a similar transformation,
    as if neither was an agent for one side, or the other.
    Not any longer.
    And how their auras shone
    ....in perfect equilibrium.







*nikko palmario wrote stanzas: 1, 4, 5
I(Chris D. Aechtner)wrote stanzas: 2, 3, 6
We both wrote stanza #7

Opposites: Angels and Daemons/Sunrise and Sunset


Details | Free verse | |

The Pain

A true poet knows
What is the pain of another poet!

Poem-writers don't understand the gravity.

They make a noise.

SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA

(The poem is dedicated to the honorable administrators of Poetry Soup)


Details | Free verse | |

Sunshine Eats Its Armor


Sunshine Eats Its Armor


Night is an old fish
deep in a dark sea
racing ever upward,
emerging into light

slow to eat more
yet steady as she goes
ever changing its tails,

seeking life anew
anticipating,
a future never known,

breaking against all
speeding into a mist
longed for by many,
desires on every list

Night is a new fish
racing down to flee
sunshine eats its armor
deep, dark it wants to be

Robert J. Lindley

note: A little free verse tonight. Even as I try, poetic  rhyme still sneaks in..
like a dog chasing a juicy bone..lol 


Details | Free verse | |

Lines Life and our Faith in God

Lines Life and our Faith in God


Is it possible to divide lines?
Which are of numerous types and kinds,
Like life, which always appear in different,
Forms, colors, shapes and types.

But when all these types and kind of lines disappears,
Covering the sheet of darkness,
What is left is only a tiny dot,
Which has no end and has no beginning.

From a tiny dot only life and every thing began one day,
And in a tiny dot every thing would vanish one day,
Leaving no lines of any kind bold or thin,
On the sands of time,
What would ultimately be left, as the last impression,
Would only be a tiny dot, much smaller than the rolling tears of eyes.

The Universe also started from a dot,
Even all universes and galaxies, stars and planets,
Started from a dot created by God,
And every thing ultimately would vanish,
One day in the darkness of a dot, like black hole,
About which we almost know nothing,
Except that every thing including the earth, planets, stars,
Even our body and mind and its high rising aims and ambitions
Would ultimately get lost in the magnetic darkness of the 
Black hole, which is nothing but another form of a dot.

The creative and destructive power of the dot,
Is right before us in the form of a computer,
Which builds, learns and teaches every thing,
Starting and ending from tiny tiny dots,
And places before us humans and nature,
Animals and creatures, in their true forms, except
They do not breathe, love and hate like humans.

But humans are close to create a new dot,
Tomorrow it would breathe and talk, 
It would think and walk and may also love and hate
And may be, it would start creating,
New types of humans and may start thinking himself one day,
As our new Creator or a new God.

I pondered, wondered and imagined,
What would happen, when this new God,
Would have a small amount of some power in his hand
And may become a new God for those,
Who do not believe in our faith and in our Almighty God,
As even a small amount of the power of creation and destruction,
May blind the weak humans to start thinking himself as the new God.

In such a situation, all lines of all types may disappear
For ever from us, which has so far, 
Saved us from the total disappearance of our existence,
And has brought up like a child in every religion and faith,
So that we may flourish and bloom like his Nature
And may adore Him as,
Our faith or God or as our strong and bold Dot,
Which always loves us a lot.


Ravindra


Kanpur India     13th June 2006




Details | Free verse | |

Walk a Mile

I put on your shoes
Tried to walk a mile
Sadly they were way to tight
I felt an old nail digging into my soul
I tried loosening the laces
However the knots were way too tight
Pain coursed through my body with each step
I walked through a puddle
Water poured through the holes
I became chilled to the bone

I stared at my sore feet
These had been lovely shoes at one time
Shining with such possibility
Now they have been scuffed 
Neglected
Walked through the mud
Left out in the cold
Cracked
Hardened
The protection they offered
Has long gone away

So I wonder
Is it not time
For a new pair of shoes


Details | Free verse | |

-- and there are proverbs


Weak, weary and thirsty
from turning the other cheek,
I knowingly drink from a well 
made virulent by his animosity; 
a hatred spawned by insecurities.

My blood turns venomous,
seeps into my pen -- 
then commences a purging
in hope of not corroding from within.

With veins cleansed of his bane,
I witness ink evaporate,
and the well is replenished
by clouds unleashing acid rain.

As the epidemic spreads through town,
I fold the blade in a septic forge
while chanting the cliche
about what happens to those
who choose to wield the sword.



April 5th, 2014




+/-


Details | Free verse | |

Who is the reader of poetry

Are you educated?
Have you injured heart?
Have you purified brain?
Do you believe in truth?
Are you alone?
Do you seek problematic truth, solvable truth, real magic?
Are you a secular person?
Do you believe in democracy?

If your answers are YES...

You have poetic mind.
You are the reader of poetry.
You are the real minority in the world. 

Keep patience.
The earth is moving.
It is proved that new history is created by the minorities. 

SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA


Details | Free verse | |

YOU MAN

You Man

-a request by Mam Aiyah

You as a man can fill up this world
With the love of your heart,
Let them flow into your veins
As the oxygen of your spirit
Goes into the lungs of your kindness

You as a man can share the thoughts of your brain,
Even though your memory is not that enough to complete the story
Let your axon abound and connect to the spinal cord of your dreams

You as a man can smile with your lips
Let there be a good quotes for every word
Of your mouth as they slip,
Swallow all the sorrows, 
Cut the sadness of your teeth, make them fly away

You as a man can show your eyes with happiness,
Mix this with inspirations
As they blink in with visionaries

You as a man can smell the fragrance of nice posture
Strain the bad from good using your cilia,
As your thumb and index made it concrete
And threw them at a distance

You as a man can hear solutions,
Can fight all the negative pictures
With your muscles in your skeleton,
You can build a problem killer device
Energy is your emotions,

You as a man can face all of your knotty points
You can hold the sky,
As your feet stay on the ground…
Because you as a MAN,
Is H U M A N…


Details | Free verse | |

King Vlad

King Vlad is anything but Democracy’s man of the hour.
Rather, à coup sûr, he’s really Stalin’s nasty little boy
who ironically parades "svoboda" and "glasnost" like 
he really means them—actually he means them not.

King Vlad’s political traditions and pronouncements 
are well-known among those who are sadly aware
of his tapestry of treachery and deceit—oh so slovenly woven
for all to see, just like some of his fellow-gangster favorites:
Lenin, Stalin, Beria, Molotov, Brezhnev, and Andropov.

King Vlad is anything but a real world leader . . .
His "Kind" are an open book for all to see and understand
what they are and what they mean for all who strive
for openness, decency, and real compassion in the
twenty-first century world order.

King Vlad—just like his Dracula name sake,
is a man without a soul, without a conscience,
who shall never shudder, wince or cry
at the piercing death rattle of a Kalashnikov.

King Vlad is truly no friend of Democracy, 
sounding even at times not unlike Hitler;
he’s a demon leader with innocent blood on his hands,
always quick with the old Soviet reply:
Lie . . . Deny . . . Accuse . . . Reject . . . Criticize . . . 
all tools of this redoubtable master of prevarication.

King Vlad should know that the Heavenly Souls 
of flight MH17 know the "bitter truth," gorkaya pravda, 
surrounding his lies, treachery, and deceit—all pejorative 
attributes to a man with the mask of a real monster who 
had the very best Soviet teachers.

And so Generalissimo Stalin . . . 
How do you like your nasty little boy now???
He’s right up your alley, right???

“Putin” has five letters just like “Devil.”

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (August 9, 2014)
(Free Verse)


Details | Free verse | |

The Final Say

As our world spins into this blatant madness Family units like dead leaves, fading fast! Our children lost, good values tossed Idols abound, keeps us in a choke! Excesses, extreme shape our lives The Golden Rule, now a corny joke! A simple guide to can heal our earth-disregarded Yet, in spite of all these, God will have the final say When wars and storms sweep across our earth Leaders ignore the hour at hand Perhaps, the last to stand as men To right the wrongs of history past And re enact laws to seal the cracks! Potent winds arising, already on track Remember, love for man and nature will heal this earth Yes, I believe, in spite of all these, My God will have the final say So let the politicians, argue, fight and scheme Let the liars, deceivers, play their games!” Let death merchants chant their evil anthem “It’s not a child, but a piece of flesh”! While the years like pages torn from a book All blowing away like dust in the wind Gone forever beyond eternity's veil! 'Too simplistic', some claim, that love's the remedy Yet, in spite of all these, I will fear no end, for My God will have the final say! ~*~


Details | Free verse | |

The Day That Died Forever

When I am Colder,Older and then alone...
I will collect the sky on my own...
When the art has faded and the days then fade-
when everyone has gone away...

I may finally see what never was saw
.....ahhhhhhhhhhhhh............... the quiet sky

The unlit room which bares my end...shows the flashes of my pains my joys and sins.
This life has been a strange one since the curtains were drawn
These paper and plastic figures have clouded the dawn

I was once younger,foolish,and obsessed with truth
Now I am bitter,sour,dour faced with my heart under shoe

The children were all searching or lost in a crowd
All weeds in a garden...growing vile and foul

Though beauty was sold it never came true
Obsessions and vanity have traveled safe through

Materials and poison and everything lost
have been burned in the fires or lost in the frost

I stand face to mirror tearing my being apart
Winding thoughts of love,pain,god,and art

As the sun sets and the darkness grows
I too shall follow this pattern in tow

Death has a friendly hand and a pretty face
She has given me comfort as I leave this place

The wars have occurred,humanity's lost
Souls have been burnt in the fire or lost in the frost

Day was Life,Night is Death

And the latter has given counsel on my final steps


Details | Free verse | |

Moving On

Moving On

we are human tuning forks
vibrating to our own frequencies
searching for the rhythm and the pulse
of the universe
the peace of mind
we're looking to find
the occasional perfect moment
to prove we're not blind
so I accept my flaws
and their probable cause
because in the last place to dream
there can be no laws


Details | Free verse | |

Adrift

Adrift in this vast,
empty sea. Silent,
save for the beckoning call
of  distant gulls,
your only friend. And 
the makeshift mast and sail is
uselessly flaccid.

And beneath,
concealed
by the dangling sway, 
of muddy-
moss-green ribbons of waving kelp,
is the dark murk
of unknown depths.

Then the wind 
panics,
arousing your sail and
it swells into life
and draws you towards home.


Details | Free verse | |

Mismatched

The world is perfect – 
That’s what everyone says.
The world has no faults – 
That’s what everyone says.
 
“Everyone belongs;
Everyone fits in. 
There will be no mismatched piece.”
 
That’s what everyone says, that’s what everyone believes.
Everyone except me. 
 
I am not perfect;
I have an infinite number of faults.
I don’t belong;
I don’t fit in.
 
I am the mismatched piece.
 
Always on the fringe, never able to join in on the big picture;
Always on the outside looking in.
 
Still, “Everyone belongs;
Everyone fits in. 
There will be no mismatched piece.” is what everyone continues to say,
And that’s what everyone believes. 
 
Everyone except me. 
 
No one notices, but I guess that’s because I’m always on the outside looking in. 





Notes: This just came to me when I was thinking about the topic "propaganda" and I literally just penned this down in about 5-10 minutes. Sometimes I get on a high and this just happens. Same thing for my first submission, "Acceptance". I was so groggy at 6.50 in the morning but I had to write something out for some random Literature thingamajig and hence ensued the birth of "Acceptance". :)


Details | Free verse | |

Naked

A man lives without literature
And an another man wears no garments
Both are naked in the world.

SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA


Details | Free verse | |

dream

dream

to dream without a conscience
is for the weak and vulnerable
it gives them a chance to break free
from familiar prisons


Details | Free verse | |

Twirling Revelations

Warmth, surrounded me…always
My lips, my eyes, closed… 
Mesmerized by the darkness that brought me consolation
I remember there were colors under those lids,
Green, spurts of purple…and sporadic yellows and reds
They danced and flashed
Whenever your voice rumbled and vibrated my abode
I remember the earthquakes of laughter 
That pushed me against the soft, supported side…
I merely bounced back to the middle again
My legs, bending, and then kicking off against it
My body twirling in the lavish liquid
Natural twists and turns that were later underappreciated
Twists and turns that were who I was
I didn’t realize they would always shape who I am

Deep voice—music—surrounded me always
My ears opened to the muffled marvel
Curious of the outside world that birthed the mysteries of who I am
I recall frustration, kicking against your soft insides….
Colors of black, gray tints, and calming browns…
That left me gurgling for more of those outside sounds
Because that first day I heard the lightning yells
The hot swells of your insides boiled
My body twirled and twirled as I heard you wail
Crying…sobbing…
My heart beat faster—wanting more to leave this vessel
Wanting to be a separate thing
Wanting all to hear me scream
To feel the cold, rubbery hands of a stranger
Lift me—and to your breast—gift me

It was always the warmth of the liquid
And the comfort of our bond
That always remained 

Bonds and beliefs never dry 
Blood is blood
Color is color
It is living to be separate that makes us gods