Best Burning Question Poems
This is a song by Rascal Flatts that I have requested to
be played at my funeral in the very near future.
It must have been in a place so dark,you couldn't see the light,
reaching for you through that stormy cloud.Now here we are gathered
in our little home town,this can't be the way you meant to draw a crowd.
(chorus) Oh why,that's what I keep asking,was there anything I could have
said or done.Oh I had no clue you were masking,a troubled soul,
GOD only knows,what went wrong,and why you would leave the
stage in the middle of a song.
Now in my mind I keep you frozen as a seventeen year old,rounding third
to score the winning run.You always played with passion no matter what
the game,when you took the stage you shinned just like the sun.
(CHORUS)
Now the oak trees are swaying in the early autumn breeze,a bolt of sun is
shinning on my face.The tangled thoughts I hear,a mockingbird sings,this
world really ain't that bad a place.
Oh why,there's no comprehending,but who am I to try to judge
or explain.Oh but I do have one burning question?Who told you
life,wasn't worth the fight,they were wrong,they lied,now your
gone,and we cried,cause it's not like you to walk away in the
middle of a song.Your beautiful song.
Song by Rascal Flatts
"The Tiger Butterfly's Dilemma"
I have a burning
question
for I've been
uniquely
named!
One name
I have is
completely
free!
The other
name's
sometimes
tamed!
So here's my
burning question-
See....
I'm a
Tiger Butterfly!
But I'm a bit
confused
as to
really
"Who Am I?"
Am I
a Tiger
in a
Butterfly's
disguise?
Or....
am I
a Butterfly
who
dreams
with
Tiger's eyes?
(WTA-IV)
3/9/2016
I have written of love and romance someone
passed a comment about being careful of
false idols. This left burning questions within
the mind and heart. Golden crucifixes, ornate
statues, papal rings to be kissed are not these
false idols, paintings adorn the walls, robes of
elegance are worn for what purpose. Even the
so called father of the church held in the respect
of being no mortal man, to which he surely is.
Why are woman forbidden to preach the word
of the lord when in the past so many have and
been sainted for it, it is not man's given right
to put himself above all others. This church
keeper of the ten commandments, throughout
histories pages has broken everyone of them,
persecution, torture, war, all heralded under
Gods name by the church. Secrecy within the
regime, the closed ranks of some papal inner
cell, what lurks, celibacy such an unnatural
form of life and living, how can a celibate
man preach to me on the everyday ups and
downs of married life when he has no real
experience. Where is the compassion and
humility in this church, the Lord gave words
to alleviate suffering, the churches laws on
contraception compound the misery of the
third world masses, with AIDS and over
population. It seems to me that through the
ages the church has lost it way, remember Jesus
died on a wooden cross for all mankind, all.
Please do not think of me has an unbeliever
for you would be so wrong, I live and love
the path of the Carpenters son, I still love his
word and his word was love.
standards fall
infinite divisions
of a space call
for creations base
" eat me "
the waters taste
of completion
Aellopus delivers
revelation
a connection
reopens
and a field explodes
in subtle elation
an ocean
births a generation
" opposites attract "
answers
a burning question
" and the beauty of a point "
marks
the equation
it's the holy graphic
of a single
calculation
Why this inhumane suffering
A constant tale of slaughtering
Innocents who die
Forever in the earth to lie.
Do we need to see far more
All that suffering and gore
Lives of children cut so short
Simple targets used for sport.
Voices shout that guns don't kill
But every day the headlines shrill
Another victim and far more
So many names we can't keep score.
Assault weapons are for war
Inflicting wounds that burst with gore
When will we all say 'enough'
A word too many find so tough.
If there's one thing we need to grasp
The burning question we must ask
Is our indifference complicit
With so much misery explicit.
While we posture and debate
Lifeless bodies lie prostrate
Have they truly died in vain
For a freedom quite insane?
The warm evening breeze
Caresses my skin as I sit
Beneath the old garden elm.
The chatter of birds echoes
Through the trees as they perform
Their spring mating ritual.
Redbirds, mocking-jays, and hummers
Scurry from limb to limb, jealously
Chasing foe from new-found lovers.
Enjoying the serious antics,
I hear the voice of the mourning dove
Calling its forever mate in the distance.
My thoughts turn to my own mate.
No longer within my sight
I remember your every detail as last seen.
You have left me as a bird in winter:
Sure to return to this nest
As time marches slowly,
And yet I ponder the burning question
Weighing upon my soul.
"Did you take out the trash, Dear?"
A tale of a lady in waiting.....
Emily did speed dating,
For her swain she is waiting,
Emily, anticipating,
Hopes fantasising,
Are her nuptials nearing?
Is today that diamond appearing?
Shall she have a solitaire ring?
Preceding her white wedding?
Now her swain is appearing,
He has a burning question,
She waits for his suggestion,
She's the lady in waiting,
Is her swain proposing?
"Emily, Emily, Emily,"
He sighs heavily,
"Here is my question burning,
I ask my soul's deep yearning."
Emily waits for a diamond ring,
"Emily, Emily, Emily,"
Swain whispers breathily,
The lady is waiting.....
"Can you marinate chicken wings?"
He yells angrily,
"That's rude, that's crude!
That's the last time I see you!"
Now her own wings she is marinading,
Does she resume speed dating?
Does Emily ever stop dreaming?
Solitaire ring anticipating,
The lady is waiting....
The lady is waiting....
And waiting, and waiting, and waiting.......
May I Lay My Head
Upon Your Shoulder?
Just For A Moment
and Not A Minute-Longer?
When Hurt’s Too Heavy
The Weight of The World
Gets To Be Too Much
For This Lonely Girl
May I Lay My Head
Upon Your Shoulder?
So The World Won’t Seem
To Be Getting Colder …
Feelings Get Frozen
From Ice In Veins
But Coldblooded Seems To Be
The Name of The Game
May I Lay My Head
Upon Your Shoulder?
‘Til This Matchfire Need
Blazes Over? …
… and Melts Old Aches
Or Warms My Soul
and Make A Worthless Touch
… Turn To Gold
May I Lay My Head
Upon Your Shoulder?
Until I Feel My
Weak-Heart Is Stronger? …
To Pound Like Drumbeats
In A Girl–Boy Band
Almost Brazen Enough …
‘Wanna Hold My Hand?’
I’ll Make Believe
Somebody Cares
Just For A Second
If You Could Spare …
… Your Broad Shoulders
Gentleman – Bred
May I ‘Borrow’ One
For My Bent Head?
and Share A Secret
Or Solace From A Stranger
‘Cause My Hope of Happiness
Is In Danger …
May I Lay My Head
Upon Your Shoulder?
Until Strength of Your Answer
Tells You To … “Hold Her!”
For Something In Your Eyes
Encouraged and Told Her …
She Could Lay Her Head
On Your Shoulder …
May I Lay My Head
Upon Your Shoulder
I’m A Little Scared
But Becoming Bolder
If You Tell Me “No”
I’ll Walk Away Fast
and Hold My Head Up =
But I Had To Ask …
This Burning Question
In Emotion – Smolders …
“ May I Lay My Head
On Your Shoulder? ”
Written & ©: 7/1/2012
By: The MoonBee
A tempting fabrication of imagination - not to be had
A simple answer to a burning question – not to be said
Through your eyes I see me as I want to be – not real
In my mind I see you as I want you to be – lies I do not fear
So why do I do what I do?
Do I really have free choice
or am I the product
of social conditioning,
complying with the expected
conventions and restrictions
placed upon me
by my peers and elders?
Do I live my own life
to my own tune
or am I only dancing
to a well-rehearsed
step-sequence
laid down in my genes?
Have I the right
to question the path
of destiny laid down
before I was even born?
Why do I feel
there must somewhere be
a great puppet master
controlling my every action,
for surely my reactions
to people, places, events
are not of my choosing?
Rather, a series of options
in large, non-dimensional boxes
opened at the appropriate moment
to convey fear, joy delight,
or whatever.
I do not feel in control;
rather, controlled.
And what of my fellow
human racers:
what do they see
when they look at me?
Do they ask of themselves
the same burning question
that haunts my every day:
Who am I?
Day two of NPM
Day Two of NPM
April is national poetry month
OR
why eye can't have a girlfriend
old age has crept upp on eye
because of my broken teeth
it is a health hazard to kiss
overall appearances
halitosis and local laws forbidding marriage
of the poor and homeless
eye stink unwashed friendless old man in poverty land
but mostly because eye can’t even kiss
just putting my arm around women or kissing them is now offlimits
perhaps she has a rich boyfriend
either he or even her might just beat me too the
end of story time
a rhyme a rhyme a rhyme
she was a student of life was the girlfriend she has had old classmates people she still calls friends perhaps eye am the jealous eye perhaps love is not the answer to her burning question after all whom am eye
Burning Question
A life of banging my head against the wall
Searching for answers
I am plagued by instant replays
Haunting me
Taunting me
Isolation has become my companion
Dark emotions has become my jailor
I am chained to my life of despair
I see no redemption ahead
Nothing seem amiss to those around me
I have played my role perfectly
But I am weary, so weary
My bone aches from the daily grind of preparing myself to what is to come my way
How I yearn to feel the welcoming touch of the morning sun
To have answers to my questions that burns deep in my soul
Why am I here?
Is this my finale?
My long awaited companion
but fickle and evasive entity
I do not look forward to our upcoming date
Though long anticipated
I don’t think I will be ready
My life's essence rebels against you
Our long awaited rendezvous
Becomes more and more a dreaded reality
But I realize it's a necessary date albeit ephemeral
I must keep it, I know, for he will transport to begin my search
I await you my suitor, my patient companion,
Full of trepidation, fully excited I await your embrace
Fear grows grows within me as I ponder the inevitable questions
will this date be the grand entry into a glorious forever
Or an anticipated date that fizzles into a final ethereal nightmare
Leaving me wrapped in an empty void
ensconced with an enigmatic feeling of nothingness
but still imbued with the burning question where is the Benevolent Creator
Cerulean Odyssey, Vol.5, No.12
hollow grams of weightless chatter
boxes full of empty shells
the only seed worth saving
generations of a scarlet thread
I catch myself flying much too high
bleak the landscape of the forgotten
in another city full of silent bones
stacked and ready for the tourists
miles and miles preposterous parade
six million was the last and counting
not like the valley of dry bones I’ve seen before
shivering on a deserted beach
footprints in the sand of a nowhere man
caught in traffic never moving
the hand of fear upon his head
no one’s there to ask the burning question
why me in this early morning fog
shifting shadows in an acid bath
four wheel drives stand idle grumbling
get me off this rock before my time
The Weight of Angel Wings
By Rick Rucker
Whenever I see you,
Strange things happen, not a clue
About how they could be,
Far too magical to see!
When you walk down the street,
All the songbirds choose to tweet,
Could this be merely random,
Or a case of rabid fandom?
Could my judgment be that clouded,
As my heart is way too crowded,
With the exploits of your spirit
The darkness you traverse, though you don't fear it!
You're amazing, through and through,
Your tales of accomplishments are true
You told me secret things,
Like the weight of Angel's wings!
I'm sort of sorry that you're now mortal,
But now you can show us all The Portal
To a blessed, brighter day,
In your own inimitable way!
To those of us that could never fly,
Can see only the underside of the sky
The Laws of Reason are quite formal
All of these things seem quite normal.
To a being not often earthly bound
It must be torture on the ground.
Dealing with petty troubles
Most of which are less than bubbles
On the winds of Divine Reason
To Whom, all of time, is as a season.
Our skirmishes, quite base
Seem to jeopardize our race
We are rushing ever faster,
Toward what appears to be disaster,
Unless compassion is soon felt,
Our whole planet will we melt?
A burning question all this begs:
Don't we all have arms and legs,
“Us versus Them” seems to resonate in our brain
“Wipe out the others,” a far too common refrain!
Could this be our human Fate
To crawl around, in fear and hate?
Will there be a time here soon,
When we won't fight over THE MOON?
Or some other place
That brings us all disgrace?
Wouldn't it be very nice
To recreate PARADISE?
To do it, we need a Vision True
Held by one just like you
That must be why you were sent here
To free us all from Hate and Fear!
Can you do it, despite the lack
Of your wings, will they grow back?
Or are you to be a GUIDE,
Not in the conflict, but on the side?
Please forgive the silly questions
If you would but give me suggestions
How to deal with one like you,
A Heavenly Wonder, an Angel true!