Asked Poems - Poems about Asked

I asked Jack, "How can you stand to live in that box? Whiskey on the rocks?” He said, "Nah, it's much more mundane. I simply turn off my brain; then, turn it back on again, when someone else wants me to entertain....

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They asked me, “Why do you love her?” As if love could be taken apart and neatly categorized, Like items on a shopping list. They wanted me to speak on your eyes, The way they draw me in and keep me lost. They wanted me to speak on your smile, The very smile that I would kill to see. They wanted me...

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If you asked me what beautiful means, It’s being loved by a strong woman Empowered, chasing her own dreams, Engraved with grace on soft moon, beams A thoroughbred she is strong, wild, and free, A phenomenon that writes my destiny In her eyes, amber stars find their gleam, They are my novel; affections the theme If so what is beauty? Let me...

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She asked, "What does your painting mean?" I said, "Nothing really. It's just a portrait of a peaceful evening scene." She said, "But I sense something ominously stark, there, lurking behind those two figures in the dark." I said, "Oh, yeah. I see exactly what you mean.”...

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are you pho real? there is an overwhelming consensus i had to ask two people had told me they hate all soups 'it's just water and soggy food.' 'slop in a bowl.' 'looks like dish water.' what kind of reaction is this? the varieties found online are incredible i am stewing - on hearing this, a colleague said to me, 'it's like your...

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yeah, i went in and i picked up a novel and took it to the counter she said, "oooh, i do like this one. so heartbreaking and inescapable. it's about being dislocated from friends and numbing routine and desire." i said, "it's not for me, it's for my mate, bill." the bloke behind the counter came over and whispered to...

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A: I called you fool all because when you called yourself wise in your very own eyes--you first became a fool in mine. And the fool has said in her own heart that there is no God--hello fool and goodbye. Until you wise up for the...

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Why is the sky blue? Asked Jimmy Fantastic question! Why indeed? Why did The Creator Whether God or Science or a Scientific God Choose blue Instead of forest green, pale yellow, or maroon? Is it because the day seems cheerier The world brighter The people friendlier Due to the color overhead? A Mount Everest of evidence shows Humans are happier Outside Under the blue. So, why...

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I asked but He said no, so I moved on. I asked again, but did He hear? Perhaps He was not near. ...

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if you wonder whether you should write to anyone, always do; you'll be surprised at the difference it can make i regret not doing it more often myself ...

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Have you ever asked God, the reasons why? Whenever you feel afraid? While vainly seeking the very exact words to both say and pray? Let not your hearts be troubled or afraid. Whenever you may find yourselves without any hope? While wondering why you cannot hope or place your trust in God? Trust and obey for there is no other way to...

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What with vainglory, vanity’s wan pride, I once asked my ego what makes it go: He said: I’m not on a vainglorious ride, Nor does hollow arrogance make me blow, Vanity’s just the vehicle for my use, Me and mine’s not my true identity, To be suffused with pride is no abuse, Nor is soaring on...

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If you asked I would tell you of my secrets Soft furry things that comfort weary souls Harsh thorns rebuffing prying doubts Stoic sentries peering through stone eyes Cold lips that scorn the warmth of love Soft thoughts that dare not venture far Whispered witticisms wielded as a sword Secrets locked within the edge of tears unshed Languishing in the loneliness of now Fearful...

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placing a pen upon the desk aligned with paper grooves of wood and knots in stain as if absorbed in thought and mind they seep from below as if the stars there influence a blueprint of aeroplanes of vision or easel's frames direct the brush that strokes pushing colour pushing shade and crystal imperfections guiding a cutters tool of life and all it throws I remain the...

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You can't shout here Here, being in my sleep In my bedroom In my head I agree, of course Though I am intrigued What was I shouting? I have only the memory of line one And I'll ask, he doesn't tend to remember Which is a blessing,...

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