Best Questioning Poems

I was put on the road of life without my consent. 
I was not conscious of who I was or of what I had to...

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my fingertips
touch ...
tender, but with melodic intent
you tremble
just SO ...
and sigh sweetly
the delightful answer
to my questioning hands
a gentle press ...
your supple curves against me
fitting me...

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We don’t appreciate
the sun until it r a i n s,
warmth of gentle rays
that subtly stroke
distressed skin
  when time was f r o z...

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seasons keep m o v i n g 
 and s w i r l i n g
memories keep f l o w i n...

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"Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it."~...

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When 
When did a bed become your prison
I see your strength absorbed
Absorbed by the mattress 
I turn you
Trying to prevent sores
Who would have thought soft...

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i sit lonely. 

the crowded restaurant is thick with sound 

i pick away at it 

moving back into the stagnant silence 
of my own comfort

the...

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The Dark Side of October

Late October moon is waking, through this cemetery shaking,
shaking as the cold wind breaking, walking ‘neath an old oak tree.
Stones like...

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When the first glimpse 
of silver crescent
sprinkles citrine dust,
sparkling pink brooks 
spring forth, 
flowing through 
emerald green forests.
Moss covered Pine
trees spread their branches, 
reaching towards
the...

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This is what it feels like to have your heart racing 
and not knowing when or if it will ever slow down.
Your fatigued body can...

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In the moorlands of desires, 
I've forever sung choruses of
fertile faith, amidst the flock 
of bleeding birds, sprinkling
heartbeats on lush olive herbs, 
In the dream...

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(In a Lush Garden Somewhere Out There)

The student stands where shifting sands of thought,
Once firm with reason, now elusive truths are sought.
Its splendor wanes, a...

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“Sleep paralysis is like a waking nightmare, except you can’t escape it.” – Unknown



Tonight, when the 
jilted bells toll, 
my decayed 
soul sighs,
I lay paralyzed...

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“Wicked Web of Woes” 

Is there a reason
to rhyme when 
lifeless fingers
breathe toxic agony,
whilst disgraced 
quill suffocates
from wildering 
riddles swerving to
the stillness 
of calcified air?...

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 when air-brushed stars croon..
my soul sways, tied to the moon
lost in twinkling tune

seeking for rose light
from plum reveries tonight~
questioning twilight..

am I not fine art
metered...

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