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Life Mystery Poems | Life Poems About Mystery

These Life Mystery poems are examples of Life poems about Mystery. These are the best examples of Life Mystery poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Narrative | |

Past-Life Nightmare

A child of four suffers recurring dreams,
disturbing parents and siblings with screams.
When she awoke, always sore in one knee;
next to a birthmark, it throbbed painfully.

Night after night she feared going to bed.
What caused these nightmares that raged in her head?
Even when grown, the torment persisted,
so a therapist’s aid she enlisted.

“Hypnosis,” said he, “might offer some clues.
Why not try it?  You’ve just bad dreams to lose.”
Once under, he guided her to a room --
here people’s lifetimes in books were entombed.

“Find one that is yours,” her counselor said.
Quickly she did, but before it was read,
she felt an ache, saw just a faint title.
The words, she thought, said “Alister Bridle.”

The hypnotic trance now suddenly broke;  
puzzling questions “Mr. Bridle” evoked.
For many years she thought that was her name;
perhaps a past life had been filled with pain.

Who was this man?  She simply had to know!
Seasons passed, summer suns made way for snow.
In Florida now, 1998,
she thought all the nightmares she had escaped.

But strange dreams always catch us by surprise --
when the lights grow dim, our minds fantasize.
Cloaked in velvet, she left her parents’ farm,
stealing away on a late autumn morn’.

To meet her love, she climbed on the carriage,
knowing her folks would forbid their marriage.
Warm-hued leaves carpeted the hillside road,
and her pulse beat fast; she’d soon join her beau.

She thought only of him; joy cast its smile,
but that’s when he called, “Alice, the bridle!”
The leather band broke and wrapped ‘round her knee.
To the ground she was pulled; her horse ran free.

She met death, but past-life dreams recycle,
and she’d never been “Alister Bridle.”



*Based on real events I experienced.

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

Dropping Mushrooms with Jesus


drip
        
         drop

pupils spread wings,
doves float above the Holy Ghost
that illuminates in the sands, the footprints 
of whores, lepers, and the downtrodden.
_______

I turned dials, flipped switches of source codes—
bent time and space
to come face to face
with Jesus in Nepal.

Yeah, Jesus and I dropped mushrooms;
he joined me for the ride.
We jumped through the eyes
of the People-In-The-Sky,
and Jesus was brought back to the future
in a DeLorean of Divine Spores.

The Anointed One,
the Redeemer,
the Mushroom King of Kings,
was not at all impressed with 2016:

"Good Lord! People created a religion in my name!?
Temples, rituals and books, all created in my name!?
What a disaster! This is exactly what I am attempting 
to move away from.
Those are not my words in that line! Why, I never said 
such a thing! How did this happen!?
Father, Oh Father Manitou, why have you forsaken me?
The golden calves still dangle from the Vision Tree."

Clouds churned,
thunder thrummed like the war drums of Cain;
and as lightning arced,
Jesus spilled forth an acidic rain.

His eyes seethed with fury;
an aura of white light shone from him;
it washed over me in waves of euphoria,
igniting an idea in my mind:
Jesus could use the mushroom flux capacitor
to journey back into the past
and rewrite a twist into the plot.
_______

The vampires and zombies 
shun me as an unbeliever—a blasphemer—
while they drink the blood and eat the flesh.
I have shed the scales of the living dead,
dropping mushrooms with Jesus.

The cloned church of abomination
dashes apart on the unforgiving surfaces 
of plastic and concrete,
of geo-politics, cruise missiles, Prada, and Polo,
while doves and the Holy Ghost 
illuminate in the sands, the footprints 
of the living word.





2016 Polygon Psilocybin Remix   
June 6th/7th, 2016
(originally written, May 16th, 2012)




+/-

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Personification | |

Umbrella

There she stands 
Centre stage for all to see
Tall and slender 
Precariously she balances.

I reach out for her
Draw her to me 
My hand skims her body 
Slowly reaching her skirt.

Playful fingers find hidden areas
Delighted her legs spring forth
Displaying the very beauty
Of her delicately adorned skirt.

Gaily she dances around
Dizzily twisting and turning
In the brightness of day shading
She gently tends to my needs.

Personal ballerina takes to toes leaping
Merrily bobbing up and down
As emotional to her performance
Clouds cry a thousand tears for her.

Reaching our destination
Slightly shaken, she leans
Watches me quietly drips
Against the wall.

Reminiscent of the day's fulfillment
We acknowledge one another silently
Restful knowing we shall be
One once more.

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2008

Details | Haibun | |

where barren branches touch newborn leaves

Scurrying on my way home, a little leaf catches my eye, and I am compelled yet again to slow down.

a whirlwind of thoughts
compete with swaying of trees~
lone leaf on my shoe

I am not sure exactly when my fascination for falling leaves started, there is just something so beautiful and artistic in which they drift to the ground....I recall one particular moment in my college literature class when my professor inquired into my choice of the word "wither" in my leaf metaphor for a dying old couple. 

My explanation involved telling him that for me, that particular word had a certain gracefulness to it, and that was how I saw that couple in their twilight years. But I deviate, for I merely intend to write about the interesting tree that I saw the other day. I do not know what species it is, but it bears its berry-like fruits on its branches and it has cordate leaves.

barren branches touch
newborn leaves on other side--
a paradox tree

A smile languidly forms together with my memory of seeing that same tree six days post double-faced state. It proudly donned a full crown of leaves in less than a week. With this image in mind, I can’t help but feel mystified, with the constancy and dichotomy of change….It seems like everything around me is continuously evolving, revolving. I can’t help but feel lost.

Almost in defiance to this line of thinking, I shake the leaf off my shoe, and trample on it. Instead of feeling satisfied, I feel guilt. I never did forget that Enid Blyton tale of how dried leaves were actually fairies. 

littered autumn road
I stomp on the frail fallen….
my feet crushing death

Rolling my eyes with my melodramatic thoughts, I continue my walk home. It’s crazy how leaves can make me go philoloopysical. I am tempted to actually stop in the middle of the road and simply sit there—be among the trees as the wind serenades them, with the leaves swaying gently, some choosing to pirouette, some doing the salsa dip.  

Being the practical person that I am, I just run my fingers along my wind-discoed hair. If it were possible, I would like to be a leaf. I find such nobility and grace to it. Imagine being able to capture light, transforming energy to create nourishment. Giving, breathing life. There is a delicate artistry with the changing of its colors—a complex, fascinating chemistry in each blade that I’m sure God is so proud of.

eyes gently follow
  dying trail of withered leaf;
wind sighs its mourning


I pick up one leaf to remind me...

11202015

Copyright © binibining P.iNk | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet | |

Jack

I saw him on the highway
Thought he was insane
Standing with his thumb out 
In the pouring rain
I don't usually stop for hitchhikers
But something said I should
Besides, it was raining awful hard
And the wind was blowing good.
I said, "Hop in, it's cold out there.
Where you headed on this stormy night?"
He said, "Down the road, I really don't care
Just somewhere else will be all right.
I ain't got no license, so I'm travelling kind of slow
They just left me out of prison a few nights ago."
I might not have stopped had I known
Now we were on this dark road all alone.
I didn't know if I was in any danger
But as I drove, I listened to this stranger
He spoke of life and of acceptance
He spoke of sin and of repentance
A story of gratitude and saving grace
And I saw a smile come on his face.
He asked if I'd take him a little farther down
And drop him off in another town
I was already late but I said okay
And I listened to his stories along the way. 
When he was getting out he said, "Thanks for the hand.
God will bless you. Soon, you'll understand."
There was a new feeling inside me that I found
And I began to turn my life around.
I stopped at the prison to find out about Jack
And tell him how I got my life on track.
The warden listened and he shook his head
Saying, "I have a hard time believing what you said.
It couldn't be Jack, I'm telling you so.
You see, Jack died this day, eighteen years ago."

Angels come in strange forms sometimes.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2006

Details | Quatrain | |

My Torment

A fleeting still small voice tries to warn me
A sudden overwhelming desire to run
The tell tale taste of metallic flakes
Means my nightmare has begun

Everything around takes on a ghostly pallor
A landscape of anguish and corrosion
A moment of silence before the violence
The flash of light, the brilliant explosion

The sound of the Sun fills my ears
Fear, my throat, though none escapes me
And paralyzed I clench my eyes
As my tormentor prepares to rape me

And it's endeavor is absolute
Consumption is its ultimate goal
It exists to chase me so it can erase me
Whilst feasting on my soul

And then that familiar salty smell 
The sudden rush of warmth so stings
Engaging me relentlessly
In vile unspeakable things

Over and over and over again
My limbs stretched and wrought
As it's teeth tear my bones bare
It's mind defiles my thoughts

And still wounds beget wounds beget wounds
As in the mouth of madness I suffer
And with every injury he just seems to be
Rougher and rougher and rougher

Then just as suddenly as it began it ceases
And for a moment I am clearer
And then the true horror of it all
Is revealed in a darkly lit mirror

There in front of me stands my destroyer
Face flush with it's fill of my pain
And I find that it's eyes and mine
My God, they’re one in the same

Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2011

Details | Haiku | |

Dinosaurs

~Dinosaurs~


------------
X-FILES
------------
fossil of all time
creatures of mother nature
mysterious death
~~~

------------------------------
SHOW ME THE MONEY!
------------------------------
bones found in the dirt
deep under the Earth's surface
museum makes money
~~~

--------------------------
RUN FORREST! RUN!
--------------------------
tyrannosaurus
no pity chasing down prey
sharp teeth, full belly
~~~

-----------------------------------
THE VELOCITY OF INSANITY/
------------------------------------
evolution change
cascade into the ice age
Life found a new way
~~~

-----------------------
THE  BREED
-----------------------
fur on new breed
Mammoth hide for the cavemen
elephant cycle
~~~

~SKAT~

Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2011

Details | Verse | |

The Tide of Time

Washed
up
on the
shore

broken
by
the
ocean's
roar

waiting
at
the
foot
of
heavens
door

I
touch
her
fading
beauty
with
my
trembling
hand

a
broken
shell
lying
in
the
burning
sand

~~~

Author:  Elaine George

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2010

Details | I do not know? | |

Raindrops

Raindrops
are like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps down
my spine

Their cool aftermath
cleanses me of my thoughts
of fear and uncertainty 
about what tomorrows
pain may bring

They make me feel,
wet with creativity
drenched in my optimistic
illumination. glistening
raindrops, my thoughts
leave paths of pleasurable
distress, and hope of success
which road, less traveled
may be the best

Forget an umbrella
when these raindrops
arrive, I walk outside
arms open wide

Ready to Receive
whatever
the mind storm may bring
because raindrops are
as my thoughts, falling
down into my mind
sending shivers down
my spine

My brain, yearns
for the rain, to wash away
the pain, tomorrows worry
does bring
One special drop
could speed up life's clock
to the time
I can handle my own
and not dwell inside my controllers
home

For raindrops are,
like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps
down my spine

Copyright © Heather Hill | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

Cornflower Blue

(a conversational collaboration with Christine Ueri)



"remember the dream I had when we were 10?
(waves and waves of cornflowers everywhere)
about the boy and the closet?
(sunflowers, circle, glass house?....closet, yes)
cornflower blue
(the closet was cornflower blue?)
the light in that dream was cornflower blue
(the air, the atmospheric light?)
yes, especially in the closet

I had that dream for so long
I'll never forget
little boy blue and the kingfishers --
the blue and white china plates
with the bridge and the lovers; the two doves in the willow tree,
that made me look for japanese letters....horse.
 
the funny things we do as children

(you are writing a poem....)
catch the words, my love
(you already wrote a poem up there; bridge it together --
I dried cornflowers with dandelions in a blue and white book; but it wasn't a dream.
Well, in a way it was, because at the time, I was floating in the clouds)

he wore a blue and white striped top in my dream

and I remember him
when I look at the sky,
the clouds and the golden sun --

I caught the words!
(yes! did you string them all together?)

not yet!"



                                                                                 
                                                                                



August 29th, 2012


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ode | |

Pleasures of Moving on Moon

Pleasures of Moving on Moon


You have always charmed us by your beauty, O Moon,
Sometimes fascinating Heer and Ranjha*, and sometimes,
Mesmerizing Romeo and Juliet.

Sometimes you have spread your charms, on the monuments of Love, 
Alluring the beauty of Taj*, in the full moon light of Purnamasi*
O, Moon how many faces of Love and Beauty you have,
When you stroll silently on a snow covered maintain,
The beauty and your grandeur becomes envy for the heaven.

For Poets and Writers you have immense stories and inspirations,
For Lovers you are more precious than gold and diamond,
For singers you are like the soul of their songs,
For Boatman’s, you are their sole companion of their silence and turbulence.

While watching you so intensely from earth,
I felt, as if I was wondering on the silver surface of you O, Moon,
Moving and feeling, no gush of wind,
No moisture of Rains and dryness of Sun,
No falling of leaves, in the season of Autumn,
No bending of rivers, flowing from mountains to oceans
No murmuring of birds while mating and chatting,
No change of seasons to engage my mind and heart,
Still I was fascinating to move on the silver surface of you, O Moon.

Walking on your surface was a strange experience for me O, dear Moon,
As I was trying to feel the unique pleasures of earth, 
While moving on your silvr surface, O Moon.

Ravindra
Kanpur India 22nd November 2010
Soon I will post this as My Photo Poem with the Photograph of Moon on my Blog and on face
book, which I took on 22nd Nov. 2010

•	Heer and Rangha. The Indian Lovers like Romeo and Juliet 
•	Purnamasi.      The Day as per Indian calendar, when we can see the full Moon.
•	Taj.                  Refers to the world famous Taj Mehal monument of Agra, India.

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2010

Details | Blank verse | |

The Force

When the blackest nightmares were realized
and bitter truth pierced cracked, brittle armor;
When candles of last hope flickered and faded
and darkness closed on the edge of vision;
When despair careened towards insanity
and aching fists and fingers began to slip;
When the abyss called, a mighty hand reached
and lifted me silent to higher ground

Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2012

Details | Narrative | |

Coiled Spring External

it is in this mural of splashing fuses 
that I am lit with a solemn torch……

I gaze with back deck musing 
but  front porch eyes….

I see the distance beyond this world
                   (my own cosmic existence)
a residence I squandered 
but my feet want to tread there

the green that surrounds me 
suffuses me with lakeside dew
melodies drifting only the quiet can hear
ripples that only valid observers see

the kentucky breeze carries a lonely wind
solitary….
               where has it been?
has it touched the sand I have?
                                (bare toes buried)

somewhere a child cries in the still
shattering  this serenity 
(though some don’t hear it)
along the bank of shoal like tranquility
the birds will wail for broken dreams 
(severed by thoughtless hands)

oh, its only a portrait
                     (an inspiring one though)
as open lashes stumble 
                        a horizons sinking sun
multi hues of reckless red and pink
a blue print  of what life should be
snap shot deftness in the perception
while beneath lay the sorrow

the last lingering tangerine shades
tease and taunt the tops of dogwood trees
oh beauty as far as eyes can see
a few silver shimmers of clouds 
                              in a blue grass sky

flowers bloom sweet pea and peonies
raw carmine kisses in the silence
pretty pansy faces 
                   and grass is verdant
green!! peacock sage and pine
 arrayed in darks and lights
a myriad of different shades 
brilliant in its lush velvet on my feet

to only live life this way (skimming surfaces)
just as the honey suckle does
how blissful that would be
(in all its exquisite ignorance)
branches sway in the song of a blue bird zephyr
as the fingers of it caress my skin

tonight
this expanse is my companion

but still I perceive it
what lies beneath
in stunning cognizance 
bearing a strenuous burden

it is in this mural of splashing fuses
that I am lit with a solemn torch

I gaze with back deck musing
but front porch eyes

Copyright © Christie Moses | Year Posted 2009

Details | Burlesque | |

A Bad Day at the Eye Doctor's- a true story

"It was 6 or 7 years ago
Or so I'd like to think
I traveled to my eye doctor..
(I should'a seen a "shrink"!!)

My dad and I we awaited
In a filled up waiting room
Patients all a'seat
Magazines all askew
There wasn't much to say there
There wasn't much to do...

Slowly I did notice
Some odd glances made at me...
Some hand-covered conversations...
Some smirks I seemed to see

It made me feel self-conscious
They seemed fixed looking at me in my seat
When slowly I did realize...
That they were staring at my feet...

I looked down, and to my horror
And much to my surprise...
A sight I could not fathom...
I could not believe my eyes!!!

For one foot was well fitted
with tennis sneaker white...
The other a black dress shoe
It was a startling sight!!!

Now I found how hard it was
to hide one's mismatched feet
I wished to God to run out
And escape onto the street

I was red with great embarrassment
and shocked how stupid I could be!
Had I been that darn sleepy?
Or could I just not see?

Then it slowly dawned on me,
Well, darn it, here I sit....
Proves I need an eye-doctor...
and I don't give a sh__......."

Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2007

Details | Verse | |

Secretly Obsessed

Obsessed with the thought of you
wondering if it's only me or
if you sometimes remember the sweet things you've said
and if you meant them how I took them
or if I'm just obsessed with what's in your head

Obsessed with your very sentences
Every response I take personal
I know it's selfishness
Have you not noticed my eyes?
They hold secrets that only you can unlock
if you'd just take time to fill the thick juices of my pride
It's just boiling with lust, passion, trust and distrust
and other things I obsess over so much

I find myself writing to free myself from this prison I've created
where only you and I reside
I become confused about what I'm really feeling inside and I 
try to rid the thoughts that are highly debated as false and I
begin to cry and
think of casting love spells so that the universe can deliver this affair
I know it's unfair
but I don't care

I'm obsessed with what hasn't happened between us
I'm obsessed with your heart and that the fact that 
I don't think you've even noticed my selfish innuendos 
and secret undertones that blatantly express my lust
Or maybe you have and you calmly remain in resistance of distrust 
If you could only read my mind by simply touching my fingertips,
I'm sure I'd catch you out the corner of my eye biting your bottom lip
I'm obsessed with the passion and thoughts I think you have
Obsessing over an experience that I may never have....





Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme | |

Half-Lit Moon

Haze up in the heavens encircles this orb.
Half-dark, half-light, shines from above.
Twinkles of light appear to absorb.
Fractions of darkness within lighted glove,

Speaking to lovers held in each other’s arms.
Answering questions of science to some,
Floating around spreading blessed charms,
Listening close at times, hearing a hum.

Lovers for centuries, graciously, captured by,
Sweet serenity and magical mystery,
Others entranced with secrets, which fly.
From words written and spoken in history.

Satellite, orb, lady, they are all the same.
Mythical goddesses, gripped in flame.
These tales have spread so many games.
This object seen most nights has no shame.

Copyright © cecil hickman | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme | |

Remnants

Sad Heart, now thou art wither’d from the Sun,
What man, or god, will near thee run?
Wrought in twist like branches in Tempests' gasp,
What Comfort, or Gauze, shall be near to grasp?
True ones begotten are the ones now Rotten
And the ones now Rotten will never be forgotten
They are merely sad remains of assiduous Tears
That have been meddl’d with and tatter’d Raw throughout the years

And thou, cruel Mind, that sat’st still thru toiling trail of Night;
Must dream your broken Dreams; thou’rt a sanely flight!
Can thou extinguish passions of Fire, Disease, or Rain?
—tho thy distinguish’d influence trains to abstain
Thy Remnants brought to debris in thy Empty street,
Devour’d by Vultures, their bestow’d beaks entreat
Merely are they cleaning an inexhaustible Mess
Alas! Leaving thy rudiments of Identity to redress....


Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2012

Details | Couplet | |

Breathes

Some lives are like a stone quickly skipping over the ponds top, forever tossed.
My life is below the surface trying to reach upward with each breathe lost.
But there is still beauty, deep down here in the great depths below…
For the solitude holds me in its grip as I dwell with what I know.

My occasional trips to the surface leave me vastly wanting more…
Still, my life below the surface doesn’t scare me as it did, once before.
And the breaths will come when given, as my life continues to flow.
True it is dark but beauty lingers, everywhere the currents move below.

At times, the surface reflections seem surreal, as if it’s a place not to go.
Comfort comes more and more to my soul, as the deeper I glide below.
Here I dwell within myself, with words, and thoughts, that carry me along.
Perhaps I have found where I truly belong, as I sing my siren songs.

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012

Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

The Solstice Door

The light is coming and I wish you well...

Behind the running, running man the land
Lies silent, fallow, haunted by the cry
Of one lone mourning rook who flies alone
Inscribing solemn circles in the sky
There is no time to take a backward look
Just running, running, running, running blind
He leaves the flowered garlands that she wove
With ribbons bright, with summer’s love, behind
He runs with only hope in empty hands
All faint of heart, with life blood running cold
The chill of winter earth beneath his feet
All water turned to ice in frozen fold
All out of breath with minutes yet to live
He runs, through elder grove and stand of yew
Runs, seeking for the ancient Solstice door
Described in tales the bards and ancients knew
 ‘Till suddenly he stumbles on a glade
All silent where no wild bird wheels or calls
And in the glade there stands a single stone
And on the ground a moon dark shadow falls
And there, within the shadow’s light he sees
That which before him other men have found
A stairway leading down in to the earth
A dark descending path in to the ground
No way but down now, this the only way
He gathers one last breath, and full of fear
Goes down the old and foot worn ancient steps
That lead towards the portal of the year
How dark the endless steps of winter’s stair
That shadow down, down to the Solstice door
To where, beneath the door a chink of light
Hints soft and bright across the cold stone floor
He sits upon the bottom step to rest 
Reflect, and contemplate the year behind
And lo, she comes, bedecked in leaves and fruit
And dancing, dancing, through his weary mind
Forget me not, she sings; I am still here
I wait for you, for life to shift and stir
And through the keyhole and the chink there blows
A fragrant waft of birch and silver fir
Reviving, blessing, soft upon his face
The promise of new life upon her breath
Touched by her grace he weeps upon the step
For she has saved him with her love from death
Another year dies, another lives
He sits and waits; she watches from afar
And as he waits the light in darkness shifts
And creaks the ancient Solstice Door ajar…

by Gail


 





Copyright © Gail Foster | Year Posted 2015

Details | Senryu | |

Fingered

Chamber of secrets
Locked in wisps of steel incense
Swabbed sulfur din

Copyright © Xavier Keough | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse | |

A Lover's entrée to March

How far can you fall and get back up 
How high can you jump
And keep your feet in the sand 

To touch grace and fall from within
Next to you I was out of my skin
I missed you yesterday and you leave tomorrow

A life spent in the shadows of lushly tint 
Smoke your waves 
Exhale the freshness of your menthol scent 
Home is what you call shelters that need no defense 

I’ll send 
You’ll say goodbye
I’ll send again
You won’t reply

If love 
Is the appreciation of another’s existence
Then goodbye
Is the anticipation of seeing you again

You and I, we’ll cruise the shores
Together we’ll settle with the wind 
The joy of a small hut, a lovers den

You’ll send
I’ll wonder why
You’ll send again
I will not reply 

"our songs for sale"

Copyright © Jerry Golden | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

Let's Drive, Shall We?

There are different levels of truth
I climb
   Staircases 
	That 
	       Go
	            Far
                                      Beyond
		                         Comprehension
Reality is made of thoughts
Spiraling and humming 
Like they are something
But in the end
They are all just ideas
Driving to nowhere except 
Waiting to be found and
Put into motion
Heights of control
Shift to third and go above
Everyone is an enigma 
I fall in affection 
constantly
With myself
Metamorphosing

Who am I to ask of perfection?
I is always capitalized
but what if
i is i and we are we, and he, we together
make something different, completely?

Manufacturing lines put together
Vehicles that take soul imprinted notions
on midnight drives by the avenue
Sell them to the Lord, to the Devil
'Tis all the same
For goodness sake, heaven is simply
What we make it

Copyright © Bella Cardenas | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse | |

Simplicity's Gifts

Cockle shell candles and firefly lights
padding the path to the woods
Grass crunched and scattered in weeds and in patterns
of the way every garden should look
Cobblestone herb baths and sleepy old stars
shooting the breeze in the dark
Waiting for someone to wish and discover
the cobblestone path in their heart
Night time is patient and fragile and ancient
with secrets just bursting to share
Turn up the jasmine and glow in the shadows
with eyes open wide to the moon
Luxuries lunar light swinging old stars
parading their final hurrah
Flittering fireflies brush up on moves as they
follow the trails of the heart
Pumpkin shaped lanterns delight the warm eye
orange and gold muted voice
Hanging from tree limbs bent down to oblige
and also to be understood
Fly on with sonar and pipe cleaner wings
soaring above all the lights
Lit up like secrets, hovering, weaving
simplicity's gifts of the night...

Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2005

Details | Rhyme | |

Sickness in my Soul

 I’m in such a state of confusion,
I don’t understand what I’m doing
I know your there
And I know you care
But I can’t see you
I can’t hear you
I just don’t know what to do
I know your there in the stillness,
Waiting to heal this illness
 
There is a deep hole
A sickness in my soul,
Disease in the depths of my heart
 But How to fix it
I wouldn't know where to start
How it came to be
Is a deep mystery to me
 
 I know that I am broken
We all are in some way
But rarely are these things spoken
Rarely do I have the courage to say
The secrets kept within
The depths of my sin
 
But if I hide it how can it be healed
 How can the healer heal?
If I keep my heart sealed
What if I let down my shield?
 
Will I be attacked or disgraced
Or will I be embraced
I’m too scared to find out
To be found out
So I hide my face
 
I only let people see part of me
I only let people get so close
I don’t want them to see
I don’t want them to know
And so I end up alone
 
I’ve been to the bar, the clubs,
All the social hubs
But no one cares about my hurts
 Life’s all about chasing skirts,
Fancy cars and nice shirts
 
Or is there something beyond drunken nights, and flashing lights
Is there something really worth living for, an open door to something more?
An invitation to a new destination
A path to peace, a sweet release
A new life to claim, an escape from the shame
I believe there is, some days I forget
But my life isn’t over yet
 
Tomorrow is a new day
I can live life your way
With love and peace
With guilt and shame released
With a new heart
And a new start
A reason to live
And something to give
To this broken earth
Of invaluable worth
 
At my very core
I know I was born for more
Than to live and to die
Without knowing why
I don’t have it all figured out
But I know without a doubt
That the world needs love
And that love comes from above
Because human love is not enough
 
That is why there is a deep hole
And a sickness in my soul
But to me has been revealed
The way to be healed
 
Now I have a mission
A reason for existence
To bring healing to the earth
To the unloved, the broken, the rejected
And tell them what they are worth
So that Jesus’ love will be reflected
And this love will give birth
To many people being resurrected,
Redirected and completely accepted
To a wonderful and glorious rebirth

Copyright © Roland Fleming | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Rtrn

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain | |

Mystic Tinklings

                   Mystic Tinklings


Mystic tinklings
	Ancient echoes from the past
Fleeting inklings
	Glimmer just beyond your grasp

Phantom footfalls
	When you know that you’re alone
Echoed choircalls
	Of a long forgotten song

Shadows slipway
	From the corners of your eye
Darkened hallways
	Hints of time passed by

Brief reflections
	Of things you did not see
Vast collections
	Of the things that used to be

Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2010

Details | Etheree | |

Cash Gone in Tax

Cash
Slashed by
Uncle Sam
Hard earned wages
Burned as income tax
Cash gone like blowing wind
Tax is not like sweet vermouth
This is just like pulling hen’s tooth
Tax going up, paycheck going down
Tax man leave us alone—we need a break!

~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~

Won Honorable Mention
Etheree Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Andrea Dietirch
June 20, 2010

~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~

Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme | |

Bravery Is All There Is

When darkness falls and finds us all alone,
When the heart becomes a small grey stone ...
     Bravery is all there is.

When thunder shakes the windowpanes,
When those we love lie wracked with pain ...
     Bravery is all there is.

Bravery concedes its fear;
Does not attempt to hide its tears.
Bravery is born of holding calm,
In quietly, doggedly, carrying on.

When reason fails to light the dark,
When the answer is a question mark ...
     Bravery is all there is.

When justice seeks to rule in vain,
When sorrow sweeps the roiling brain ...
     Bravery is all there is.

Bravery trembles while it stands,
Accepts what it cannot command.
Bravery bears its burdens well,
Looks not to see if others tell.

     Be brave then, Mystery asks of us;
     Face the unknown with silent trust -
     For at the End, there is only this:
     Bravery is all there is.
     Bravery is all there is.

Copyright © William Masonis | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

The Unanswered Questions

How ironic? Has God ever fallen in love?
I am sure the supreme power does have a clue about love.
Then why are many struggling with questions that have no answers.
If certain sensations are not meant to be then why does one have to go through it?
Or is it a good way to put a check list on Karmic activities. 

One’s feeling doesn’t seem to make any sense and the restless notion only brings discomfort.
Even though some things seem so right and pulls one toward a make believe world,
Attempts and efforts don’t seem to fade away.
It is with the tornado of genuine feelings that keep the tingly feeling of love alive.
So does God understand this?

Even though modernization has struck onto the minds of many,
The devotion and willingness to surrender to that person develops a passionate and overpowering desire.
The sweet and sour, or bitter and sweet emotion creates fear or questions fate again and again.
Once the brave feeling has been awakened and humble efforts have been tried upon,
One cannot fight destiny, but can hopefully open a new change to Karmic policies.

As time goes by, one notices that it is no more days, weeks, months, but years that has shaken the foundation of a belief that finally love will conquer over the negativity,
Love is the feeling that has no answers but only a precious sensation is felt.
Again no answers, but more questions and experiences are shown and learnt in every way.
There must be something better stored for everyone that is why one walks through a chain of tests.
Happy living and sustain that positive attitude.

Copyright © Bhavna khemlani | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Twigs

Twigs

Flowers bloom
And flowers wilt.
Flowers blush
And flowers fade.
The eternity is only in me-
The twig that bears the flowers.

Sparrows are born
And sparrows die.
Sparrows fly
And brighten the sky.
That who nurtures sparrows is me-
A cozy make of a twig upon a twig.

The sun fades
And moon is born.
The twilight blurs
And moonlight spreads.
All the soothing moonlight beams are me-
A crisscross of unfathomed twigs.

Whether in its birth
Or in its death;
In the heart
Of its heart;
The entire beauty is none but one-
A design of mysterious twigs.

Copyright © Suyash Saxena | Year Posted 2013