Best Questioning Poems
A bee drags through glass—
soundless, just the pane
tearing, like a caul.
Belief becomes the thorn.
I asked Him once. He turned His back.
The leaves fell —
Are we born to live,
Or are we born to die?
Death's inevitable
So what's more to life
You can be rich as ever
Yet still afford to die
By every breath I feel approaching mine
What is the purpose, or the goal of this?
Is one judged by their holiness
But how to live a holy life?
When every night brings blackened skies
And even during'st the brightest day
When the sun is smiling away
There will still be a dark cloud, vision
Eventually approaching in the distance
Some readers questioning my quest,
Of modern poets- who is the best?
Although, the question is not hard,
I shy away with a grieving heart
Inside of me a constant fight,
Because, I cannot be forthright
*
To name the others?.... I hate to lie!
Or praise myself ? .... I'm just too shy!
It’s natural to sometimes question God
When you’ve a long and tiring way trod.
The wrong often comes as knowledge you’re pursuing,
Implying that He knows not what He’s doing.
To know that He knows what’s best for us
Is sufficient knowledge to completely Him trust.
He knew the end before it even started
Even though to us this was never imparted.
Solomon in his wisdom did rightly write,
Trust completely in God and His great might.
To trust in your own understanding, ‘tis true
Is a thing you never should think to do.
He said to trust God with all your heart,
And from your own way to quickly depart.
To know a happy and prosperous end,
Entirely, completely, on Him depend.
Questioning
why
I refuse
to erase
a history
lived
passionately
why
Questioning
myself
left alone
allow
a river carry
away my
sinking feelings
rush them
get lost
towards
the stream
a point of
drowning
due to
exhaustion.
Questioning
my confusion
why not
absorb
my anger
visualize
with glazing eyes
a destination
to land
my soundless
voice
towards
reality
our closeness
is
doomed.
Questioning
my sobriety
never
impose
when
hope to cope
dissolves
Oh! twister
whirl me
strongly
towards
spring showers
wet my
brain
a drop
of water
to surface
intact.
Answering?
my confidence
whispered
be
determined
to feel
when words
decides
choose
Freedom.
Therese Bacha
25 June 2013
If poppies harbour oblivion,
their vivid presence
belies a deep potential.
As if oblivion really worried me-
Surely, death becomes more
than this state of oblivion.
If a brilliant point of transition brings me
to an unimagined state
then nature cannot forsake me
Suzanne Delaney
Forget! Regret not, for it all has intention...
To attempt comprehension leads to double block wall.
In searching your question, much more loss is gotten,
Confusion, dismay a deeper dug hole.
Infinitely seeking you strive for some meaning,
the truth is quite simple you are not sole at all!
Infusion connection the union eternal,
Is easy to grasp when knowledge of whole,
is truly encountered from deep within query
The meaning the truth the love of it all...
Once trouble & strife and struggle are missing,
The clear light of being shows beauty once more.
Accept what is given agree to the treaty.
Fight not with your fears, and answer your call.
Find substance in living, step over delusions.
Regardless of meaning, life’s radiance will soar.
So use this awareness these words and this practice,
Come forth tall and sturdy, head high and recall..
When sad and when empty in need of intention,
No doubts I plead! No need to explore!
Emotions you hold are sensed by your siblings,
Your waves of sensation your truth and your soul...
Are parts of us all, we are all together we are all but one!
In oneness we’re whole!
I
God always wins the wager if we live long on earth... and even if we don't.
II
Some questions die with questioners; even if God heard the questioning daily (for 90 years)
III
If Jesus died for the sins of those born after 2000, will more from India and China be in heaven? Will whites be a minority in heaven?
IV
If race and color don't matter in heaven, God is miserly not to have given more practice here
raised Catholic
out of the practice
am I living life right?
So many chances have been given
It's simply unbelievable
They are nothing more than a blessing
Nobody can live forever
Almost died before
These things that are fought
Should you keep on fighting?
Are they worth dying for?
Now that you've come this far
All the answers have been wrong
Trying to find the way
There is no shortcut
You must keep traveling on
Feeling like a prisoner
Now you are recognizing
That death may come
What are you willing to die for
Would giving in be wrong
Now continue without stopping
Not believing in destiny
You keep moving on
There is nothing that is set to be
Who...
what...
where....
Am I suppose to be here...now...
staring at a screen looking inwards...
wondering where I'm suppose to be.
Questioning my existence...
I know I'm here for something...WHAT???
WHY???
I wish I could put even a fingernail...
It just...
Hmmmm...still looking for confirmation
Any takers?
How could she scar herself with cuts?
How could she wish for bad out comes
How could a girl so beautiful feel so insecure?
Scaring herself like she’s a manic
She’s crazy… insane
Just a young girl “what the heck does she know about pain?”
Wishing to die like she’s… yea, she’s suicidal
Poetry conveys love, hate, drama and or conflict
My poems contain things you wish to avoid.
Mother can you understand the pain behind your daughter’s smile?
Can you explain the cuts on her wrist?
Do you know that she cared less about dying the deeper the slit?
Always wearing a jacket
Seriously is it always cold outside?
Her sleeves are never rolled up.
Scared too were her thighs,
These are the things a suicidal girl hides.
How is it you never noticed?
Do you know her goal is to end this?
She’s just not brave enough just yet
But one day she’ll be tired enough to do it
And take her last breath.
16.12.2015
Part 2
Call me a consciousness conspiracy theorist but wise,
I dig out many lies while being surprised,
So I rewire with the motivation of desire,
Cause I want the rest!!!
As I try my heart felt best,
I'm feeling this all as a test,
I digest and invest in systems with high probabilities,
Ya see,
These so called truths are hard to prove, they’re possibilities,
Do you read my words? nah ya tee me up like an unaware referee,
Technical just like subliminal messages waged and played through,
Dirty deeds, these weeds don't please me and cause me to leave,
But how do we leave and ignore all these tricks,
They stick like Hollywood flicks,
Dam are we all just part of the matrix,
I'll be here always deciphering all the programming real quick,
Those that are ramming all the information bits,
That are used with a strategic hit and destroy the spiritual unfit,
Using Reserve money from scumbags with fat tragic stacks,
Of physical magic cause were all trapped into it,
Feeding it with sick minds believing we need it,
Then we go and invest in it so you become it,
But I rather find wise words and dip them in Chrome,
So they reflect light shining bright off the top of the dome,
A word narrator warrior roaming on a journey to conquer,
The lures roots turning our experience to ignorance quicker,
Looking once, looking twice, taking inner advice, I slice and dice,
So concise as I turn the tables, unable to continue in a unstable fable,
Rising up, and on the attack, so turn the tables to our capabilities,
Quincy Mac always coming with steez with words like these,
Using feasible tweezers that can see.....so,
I remove the splinters mindfully,
Officially and always peacefully,
My my……….. As life fly’s by,
Don’t deny the mind,
Or the third eye.
Quincy Mac
date written: 16.12.2015
Do you?
Fasten procrastination against the bed sheets of discontented motivation?
Sleeping into oblivion with depression settling in?
Becoming a recipient of insidious stigmatization?
Or, Do you?
Pull yourself up from the valarien labyrinth
of maladjusted madness into the meridian borders beyond a delirium of serious commitment?
in this vast life
a question I ask
what’s my purpose in life?