Best Incertitude Poems


Perplexity

EACH THING SUPPORTED BY INCERTITUDE
MERELY SMALL OR LARGELY BIG
EACH THING AT OCCASIONS IN MULTITUDE
SILENTLY THE SADNESS DIG

THE ASSISTANCE OF BRAIN
THE THUMPING OF HEART
CAN'T STOP ITS REIGN
WHICH CREATE GRIEF AS AN ART

ALAS! I M THE VICTIM NOW
AND FEEL HELPLESS INDEED
WANT TO ESCAPE BUT HOW?
AS IN MY OWN MIND IT BREED

I WAS JOVIAL, I WAS BLISSFUL
BUT NOW LOOK AT MY CREATURE
ALL IMAGINARY ALL FANCIFUL
MADNESS AND BADNESS PREACHER

IS GRIEF TO ENJOY
OR TO FEEL GLOOMY, DULL AND DIE
OR ACCEPT IT AS AN ACT OF JOY
BUT HOW? WATER IS IN MY EYE.

A Mother's Prayer For Her Daughter

I want my child to be like me, in every single way,
No, I want my child to enjoy her youth and scream and jump and play,
I want her to defend herself in walk, in talk, in stance,
 But I want her to defend herself without using her hands,
My child, I want her to be smart like me, so she can control her heart,
Let no man come and insult her intelligence and then take her apart, 
I want her to be strong and brave so she can face hard times,
But I don’t want her to be afraid to cry at any time,
I want my child, my only child to live a holy life,
Not wallow in incertitude until the day she dies,
Dear God, I know this is too much, but please just grant me this,
I want my child, my precious child to be the very best there is.
Form: Rhyme

Incertitude

Incertitude
Who am I...?
Am I the first born son, emanating from a fire of passion?
Am I the long lost hope, rekindled, ravenous in the eyes of my forebears?
Am I the caressed cocoon, spun out of love and compassion?
Whose silken threads, entice and embellish the vain vanity of its wanton wearers?
Am I a prodding prodigy,
Aimed at excelling in every sphere ?
Am I, a porous sponge, meant to absorb every single human emotion, a mortal can bear?
Am I a doted upon enduring exemplar or a doomed ephemeral effigy?
Am I the mellow and musky mist, exuding from a bare bosom?
Am I the naive, reticent lover, imperfect, yet dearest to my beloved?
Am I the longing in her eyes, a hypnotic hum?
Am I mere an object of desire- usurped, used, seduced, shoved?
Would I be another mere mortal among the countless thriving throng?
Lashed by grief, aged by time, thwarted by fear and smitten by love?
Would I be a forgotten fable or a perennial song?
Would I be remembered as -
A peacock- proud of its plumage,
An Owl- sombre yet subtle , of a lettered lineage,
A nightingale-serenading a song touching the core ,
A mystic bird from an ancient lore,
or , a dove – cygnet soft , gentle sitting on an alcove?
Oh Time! Tarry! A little,
Before I transcend from this world to the other,
Hark ! I plead, solve this riddle.
Oh Wind! Carry away my doubts to the omniscient; 
Rush against all odds, be it a mighty mountain or a rampant ridge.
Time is running, I dread to lose myself in this mystic maze,
Oh Almighty! Accept my venerations to you my liege,
Enlighten me , before my mortal remains is set ablaze. 

-Saptarshi Mukherjee
Form: Rhyme


Decomposition of My Dignity

I am being held hostage by a pressing force of incognizant, and I am impregnated in a world of spiraling storms of confusion.
  Fragments of memories prods my mind. Sudden and swift memories of my failings and sins are but a measured minute of my life.
  Why can't I remember slipping into this fog of incertitude, this doom  pressing force of incognizant.
    My heart grows numb against the days and nights that I spend in despondency.
  Familiar faces shifts to peculiar and ill-boding images.
 Solitude is a conundrum of emptiness.  A bittersweet embrace.
  My tongue is locked in an aphasia space.
  My brain has forgotten its ability to command, and so my legs and arms have no will of its own.
  I want to run away, run to a place that will strike a familiar note in my brain.
  I hate being handled by strangers who pull at me and torture me with applications of abuse.
  In a regular diurnal, my dignity is decomposing.
  Despair is the song of my wretched soul. 
  I can not stop crying.  


copyright Labyrinth of Life

My First English Poem

A Realization

Once upon a time, a baby was born
In a small town near the green mountains. 
He was living life off from thorn.
Blessed! But he’s always in pains?

He had all that he desiderates;
…All sorts of visual things he named.
His life was viewed by people as perfect
But his jaundiced views were not tamed.

His conviction of what’s good from bad,
To obey his parents or his heart?
All “withins” conflicted realities;
But stood still gaining victories.

When he craved for peace and happiness
The world insinuated, “Gain degrees!”
He obeyed the world and “he” ‘til fitness
Has drawn. A striving man almost ceased!

The tour of uncertainties fastened.
Then, he was asymptotic to death.
“The search for realities is through- end?
What’s really real? To view death as faith?”

When he was fighting for his lone life,
He search again what was unanswered.
He screamed, “God…God… are… are you alive?
Before this ends, be real! You’re unheard!”

He suddenly filled like stone from above. 
The sound of ambulance was heard.
Its sound was like freedom of a dove?
Or it sounded like death- we always feared?

A sad month passed by just like a jerk.
There was no hope and nothing to hope!
One single night reality was torqued.
He shouted, “God is real!” and woke!

And from then on the doubtful boy was fixed.
All his incertitude was vanished.
A renewed life after a heavy rain?
Or rainbow after reality finding?

Depressions

Waking up with the demon digging your bowels
Imagining other marvels, your mind on a different level
Hit the streets with a system in discomfiture
Nose in the air as to flatter any future

People look around without seeing, eaten into by sins, remorse or even longing for a better being.
People got sores they can't heal, come across each other and can't feel.

I walk, ma mind away, and feel nothing
Nor the fresh air that I breathe, nor the fresh breezes from the beach,
I am digging a gap between my life and I, not even hearing the honking.

For I am dating with a siren
She’s sucking blood, killing my soul and drying my heart up
She extends my agony in silence


Depression is getting our life sucked up
Survival trauma,
Hatred, cost of living, pressure, consistency of need, incertitude, ignorance in all its bliss
Our life, a daily drama.......
Form: Rhyme


Somnambulist

after the sky drops. 
The walking corpses come out 
the veil of night masks 
the decay 
the rot 
of humanity 
Plague of the earth. 

Found from the ashes 
My phoenix we bled 

Has she ever 
thought love between 
us, inside 
 her, filled up an empty bed. 

No longer bereft, 
somnolence 
and love drowns my head. 

Convalescent 
Bemire emotion 
 I wash and rinse 
what is left, 
asking what we are 
if no longer 
dead? 

Gold from lead. 
The lifting sky 

Our connubial affair. 
The truths, I face, 
we share, 
She Said. 
"when will it die?" 
closing empty space 


A diffident devotion 
Within her embrace 
a softly recited 
poem unread 

berceuse 
tantric lullaby 
healing the blighted 

fading destiny to refuse 
to claim or to lose. 
An onus I malinger.. 
to choose. 
  
Execration 
of an inner fatalist 
hopeless abuse.   

Quantum entanglement 
schismatic resentment 
prepossessed 
inspiring  muse 
of the alchemists 

A bibulous creation 
intimate turpitude. 
sovereignty 
asunder this hell 
her orbit with abaddon. 

Dissolution 
her need to dispel 
incertitude. 
Inordinate. 
Gravity well 
collapsing in on itself 
eternal 
infinite



end



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The Life of Mature Minds

The life of mature minds
is aid to all silly clowns
adorn life and silently binds
and blooms each face and efface each frown.

The bluster of emotions, floods down
the mind and sheer delight glistens
on lips, and insipid nature drown
in delight, and to each incertitude silently listens

The drops of blushed desire with tinge
of fantasy and wild ecstasy drops
from minds abroad and bring
the sole being some consolation and passively props.

The restlessness of the soul 
and uneasy hidden fears
and slow down incertitude rests all
and dim blur eyes literally tears.

The unreasoned thoughts perplexes and retards
and swarthy leaden eyes fails
the brimmed tear eye silently guards
but full emotioned, to visage dribblingly sails.

The mortal gazes at psyche as an urchin
with wild surmise and feel puzzled
to things unknown and admire with chin
up, full gape wide and blank eyes dazzled.
Form: Verse

Incertitude

Daily thoughts
Over and over again spread their rumors
Uncertain about things
But certain enough to believe
Take my reasons...I brush them aside
See?... they are just doubts.
Form: Acrostic

My Husband Your Bride

Like a ghost I flitter through the night
keeping to the shadows 
abhorring the light
Tears... Unrelenting grief

The night camouflages and no one can see 
the shadow of the person that once was me
The day lays me bare with nowhere to hide
Where the raw pain and your memory collide
Agony... Unrelenting grief

Gone is the treasure of our history
Evidenced in this lonely debris 
Only silence now 
reminisces with me
Anguish....Unrelenting grief

A penned art on vellum once tied in velvet ribbon
What lies beneath me now the conclusion is written
Droplets of amber have spilled upon this page
They pool in the dirt here upon your grave
Desolation...Unrelenting grief

Remembering the touch of our feet
Fingertips on my shoulder your breath on my cheek
Early mornings recounting your dreams
25 years How oh how am I supposed to breathe 
Heartbreak...Unrelenting grief

You took with you the heart of me
My glory my purpose my identity
You disappeared without a trace
Hide and seek in an unfamiliar place
Incertitude...Unrelenting Grief

Can you hear them cry 
Oh Daddy why
Gut wrenching wails 
Swollen eyes fail
Empty...Unrelenting grief

Till death do us part
My husband your bride
You parted I perished 
With your suicide
Irrecoverable... Unrelenting grief
Form: Quatrain

She's Amazing

I have shown her the worst that I could be but i don't think it wavered her love for me

I can't completely know but on this note is only right that more I sow

Everyday passes, she gives me more reason to let go of my problematic facets

Truth; i think i've been scared of getting hurt, so I built up a wall that limited my trust

She's hasn't given me a reason of incertitude, she's proven to have a heart of verisimilitude

I guess I have been holding back but not anymore, the cat's finally out of the bag

What more proof do I need, she's obviously the best person I've been blessed to meet

She sees me for who I am, understands me, appreciates me and still accepts me

Who does that these days? I guess I'm lucky I've found someone like that and she's bae

Her patience has been overwhelming and now in my heart, she is no doubt helming

Her level of understanding, I have underestimated but no more withstanding

I guess me always writing proves how she's interesting and how much she interests me

Sometimes saying I love her is not depth enough, cos more than any other person, she's beloved

My Friend of Comfort

Dedicated for my true friend, Pokey the puppy
I have a friend tempered in anxiousness of speed indeed-
He runs, jumps, and adjusts to my manner uncannily-
A good friend is he who waits, in time and fate, for me in kind patience-
His intent, at times, as I see and unbeknownst to him, is non other than to be fed-
I watch him and he I through our anthropomorphic conscientious percipience-
I ask myself, as always I always do, if he has slight of sentience in self-
My friends form of expression queerly questions my countenance in sensibility-
Which may or may not have some truth, for his truth is held in stealth-
I have over the years attempted to lessen him in art of literature-
Although at times he seems to acknowledge this by peeing on our praised favorites-
By all means I consider him more an emotional compartan compared to my kind-
He never regrets or resents me for unfairly failing notice to my dear friend-
Maybe he ponders events by incertitude, though expressions neither deny or confirm-
Though his actions always denotes incentive aspects of verbs, he chooses not to read
I infer a conclusion that we only differ in level of magnitude of consciousness-
For I know that he knows that I know he has some level of meta-cognition

By Mark Miller, An inner examination into our art of artificial selection.

A Prudent Wife Is From the Lord

A prudent wife is from the Lord, 
Having hope, faith, and endless love; 
She believes in the Almighty, 
Trusting the one true God above.

Her hope is just firm and steadfast, 
Doubting not the glorious promise; 
She fixes her mind on the sky, 
Thinking of the heavenly bliss.

Her heart is full of tender love, 
Beating in sweet, cool devotion; 
She cares for her happy husband, 
Making him feel her affection.

She follows in humility, 
Showing her stance and attitude, 
She meekly lets her life obey
God's laws without incertitude.

She is more than a precious gem, 
She is admired and well adored; 
Properties are parent's bequest, 
A prudent wife is from the Lord.

Topic: Wife (Proverbs 19: 14)
Form: Quatrain

Find Places For Meditation

Find places for meditation,
a strawberry path leading
to mysterious backwoods;
hear the woodpeckers drill through bark...
how frightening they are at dusk!

Meet the jolly woodscutter
gathering the fallen trunks
of cherry oak for a winter's fire...
or for furniture like coffee tables and desks;
have you ever seen his fine workmanship? 

Find places for meditation
on a breezy shore in early evening,
marvel at the spectable 
so radiant and soothing, quenching
your spirit as woodwinds start a quadrille!

No witless clown is allowed
to spoil the fun of beachgoers, humor pravails
and draws crowds to the boardwalk;
catch the glow of wonder on every kid's face...
as those clowns amuse them and deliriously laugh!

Find places for meditation,
in the quitest cathedral or chapel to revive your entity,
and prayers murmured by the soft-glowing candles
renew your belief and trust in the Almighty...
in such a holy place, angels are found by the thousands!
Extreme peace overhelms your thoughts of victorious love
exulting in the vespers' hymns played by the loud organ
above the incense-burning altar of glacial marble;
humbly pray and flee incertitude and damnation...
the incantation is being broken and incapacitated by your will!

Find places for meditation
by a calm river feeding its waters to the distant sea,
making your vessel of hope reach it's destination;
someone will wait to board it and start a stupendous dream;
and dream you must to end your string of defeats!

Visitors

Waste not your time 
On worthless fears
All is illusion anyway.
We  ceaselessly conjure
Make believe worlds 
That care-take the insecurities
And the incertitude of our divinity.
Endless lifetimes
Of unfulfilled dreams,
Fold in upon themselves
And stack neatly in the tombs of Cathedrals 
And Ancient temples,
Knowledge and history repeating itself. 
Record keepers, storytellers, mages and mystics, 
Our silent mentors fine tooth the writings
On the walls of antiquity, 
Searching for the wherewithal to know
Just who we are....
Just Who Are We.
Welcome visitors of long ago
Suspended in Time-Place
Engendering faith where
Distant memories of Somewhere
Play through our Archetypical landscapes,
Gentle reminders of a greater knowing peeking through.
Breath of life exhales as buds appear on Eden’s tree
with promises of rainbows as 
the mist dissipates in the dawning light of awareness.
Aquarian Ascends as
Answered prayers drift into miracles
and sink softly into our awareness,
until every doubt is transformed
into truth.

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