Inquest Poems | Examples

Premium Member It is to be

Staring into the stratospheric abyss 
Cumulus clouds swiftly drift along.  
As I stand at a dusty precipice,  
The white-hot heat of the sun beating down,  
Microscopic gravel crunches beneath questioning feet.

A flood of overwhelming emotions washes forth,  
Whilst a broken heart is drowning.  
The last words you spat at me, stuck on repeat,  
Play like a needle scratching a broken record.  
Cupping my ears, I try to shut out the incessant noise,  
But it just ricochets like emotional shrapnel,  
Piercing into my tormented psyche.

Reliving the vital few seconds of a scene gone so wrong—  
Have we somehow traveled past the event horizon,  
Becoming an implosion of complete annihilation?  
As the wind whips past, sending ripples through the air,  
I frantically search the debris for answers.

Grasping at particles of dust—  
Invisible atoms of desperation.  
But they're unattainable.  
It is to be our downfall,  
Just as a resolution to this inquest  
Disappears with the sun  
As it wanes over the mourning horizon.

A World of Pain

In a world full of pain, I feel so alone,  
Now shadows form where silence has grown.
A gaping void to fill this space,
These thoughts I have, I can't misplace.

It is four in the morning, as I lie here in bed.
Manifesting these fears that go around in my head.
I am the judge and the jury, in my own inquest.
A pondering conviction that has me depressed.

I feel lost in the darkness, where hope starts to fade.
In the stillness of night, decisions are made.
A ticking clock echoes. It's a sound of despair,
Each tick is a reminder that nobody's there!

This loneliness clings, on this dark winter's night,
As my breath hits the air and my chest it feels tight.
I long for the warmth of that someone to hold,
In the cold of the night where dark shadows unfold.

I remember the time I was wrapped in your love.
Like my heart is being held in the hands of a dove.
The isolation i feel, it reminds me again.
For in your arms i found solace, in this world full of pain.

Premium Member Inquest

Start journey quest now where love shows,
Stride with calm poise shrewd path of fate;
Feel touch fling zest in sublime flow,
By your own choice greet lavish state.
Learn how to glide as act funds proof,
Match your fine grip to charm lots more;
Peel off vain pride to see plain truth,
Glimpse that fond trip from mortal shores.
Watch the wind blow taut misty lease,
Be on the way of mystic feel;
Sense touch you know with heart at ease,
Cause crafts deep play of apt goodwill.
Exult true gains karma consorts, 
Embrace hard pains that love retorts.


Premium Member Sara's Waters

I approach the wooded trails and hear nothing save for my footfalls crunching in the soft snow. It is the kind of winter day that even a feather falls without drifting one way or the other. The trees stand straight, tall, and silent, their branches appearing as if they’ve been painted there. The water in the nearby stream is crystal clear and motionless, reflecting the cloudless morning sky. It was still, utterly still.

crystal waters flow
reflecting winter’s stillness
peaceful Christmas scene

Copyright © Sara Etgen-Baker | Year Posted 2023

A loud string of clear down-slurred two-parted whistles reach my ear.  There is a little red cardinal tucked between thick foliage.  Its an architectural beauty, an inquest.  He looks at me with two round eyes then shows me a circular world made up of silence and noise.  We are standing on a precipice of the Sacred.  A unanimous ground holding space with Nature, Creature & Human, alike. 
 
winter evergreens 
snapshot of a Cardinal 
perched on my nightstand

Nestlings

Nestlings

I write best
Close to the vest
I attest
It’s what I know 
Best

In my nest
It’s what I 
Behest 
I write best
Close to the vest

Be my guest 
I’ll unload 
My chest
Be just like
An inner inquest 

I write best
Close to the vest
Just sit tight
I’ll feed ya
The rest

Bill MacEachern
03/24/23

Premium Member The Pretender

The Hound dissed the Princess,
With a dour scowl.
He hid his little mistress,
Quickly to be avowed.
The inquest was listless,
with nothing much found.
Now the Bonnie Prince,
will wear a Kings Crown.


H.Elless
Poet


The Wild Wind of Antiquity

The wind is come to sojourn once more
Delivering tidings from far away, yonder.
It expires its breath and wheezes veracity.

Eyes may not see but ears are alarmed
As the wind calls out its blustery voice
And those who listen will know it well.

The legend told is one of timeworn myth
But nought can change, save for illusions,
And he who walked before us also follows.

The wind is come to visit this day
To test our faith and inquest our soul
For the wind that comes to call, this day, knows all.

                                           Alan S Jeeves

Premium Member Silent Anonymity

Who can view me behind the fence ferrous! 
Those infiltrating eyes bear me desirous! 
Unveiling what was previously hidden. 
Keeping this same watcher has striven.
 
I figure you should say, "What's in plain view!" 
Penny for your ideas as they decay in a dark row. 
Truth is a precursor to the hotly slated freedom. 
The spilling from torn gum is giving a storm!

Am I a true enchanter worthy of notice? 
I feel you crying, so please, let me focus. 
I never set up in front of an audience.
I starve to escape the irritating sequence. 

But does it work to retain me from leaving? 
This clutter adds to the overall styling. 
Do they have any considerable difference?
Do I cave in, or do I dazzle with my openness?

What has me scared! How am I striving to hide? 
None, however, can bear reality inside. 
After the Inquest, I cast the net vast and bleak. 
Induce them all to cave up the skill to peek!



Written: October 3, 2021

Wolf's Bane

On the shoulders of avid days 
I stride on its lips with a pot made of clays 
Inquest of fecund fields to preen what pays
Both the days we suture its coral  rays 

And days its name wears mystery
I schooled forth lapping the mile’s misery:
Worries a spoon, jester a stew, despair a rice dished miserly
Murdered hopes, spices; yet I slide, no furry.

At time when exiled felicity 
Staked in self stalk new sari 
Leaning against the old plea.
And lethal tears oozing breathlessly frosting his solitary balcony.

A wolf bane singing the songs of angel 
Orchestrated alchemical lyrics, in  it fell
O! Withers of pain, lend me your domain, let me dwell
O! I said, are you not wolf bane, won’t there be tale
O! I’m, recharge your crockeries of trust in my smell

A wolf’s bane she was indeed 
Listening to her lusty lyrics in refined 
Harem’s tone, then I pigeonholed.
As the suns fell on the shrubs, as dews condescended
As the soil becomes wealthily fending
A moon in me suffers seizure and my  dog died frothing 
Then I was awakened to knowing anon 
That there are good flowers and there are poisonous one

Premium Member Choice

Why the mangled lines upon your face?
What agony has you in this state?
Do you blame the one you chose to mate?
Or should we condemn all the human race?

Why is there no smile on your mask?
What events find you in this way?
Do you believe ill fates are in play?
Or is it you refuse to relax?

Why do you claim your life is a mess?
What forces align against your joy?
Do you perceive a Devilish ploy?
Or might it be bad luck you confess?

Why are you puzzled at my inquest?
What would you have me do, just forget?
Do you think it would be for the best?
Or is it my pity that you request?

Why swollen eyes and cheeks all moist?
What deception does your mind foist?
Do you not hear His voice and rejoice?
Or did you not know? Joy comes by choice!

Fissures

I want to be where
fissures meet
and sentences are passed,
Every step before
arouses immeasurable inquest.
This phase encounters
a dull moment
and deems it appeasing,
To warm its charm
will not in time return its best.
I asked a vow to
faintly deliver ours
if none in time actually prevail,
It may do
unless ours expressly fails.

Premium Member Fade

Fade in the rain
Leach out false gain


Fate by the gate
Can feel too late


Time fades away
Gone in a day


Seek to know how
Time ends right now


Play and ploy crash
To ink inquest


If you must fade
Mull a good trade


Nothing much here
To cast good cheer


Ample the flash
In dying dash


No much more then
Not even when


Stick to your guns
Stretch a good run


Defy the strains
That fashion pain



Leon a Enriquez
16 September 2018
Singapore

Desert Chocolate Island

Oh Isle of embattled shore's 
Coast's abound of glass shale sand
Below protracted marsh land
Where boats of the conquerors once moored 
Where fish in the summer was cooked and caught 
Area 51 actuaries research 
Set upon a temporary bush camp perch
Lurching forward swiping away the tinder fire smoke 
Away from tired red cry eyes
Searching for rescue ships in the distance 
Paradise drifts
Writing S.O.S in large letter's 
Message in a Bottle
What time is it ?
What day is it ?
Why did I leave ?
Is the world really round ?
Or Flat ?
Am I ever going back ?
Is anyone ever coming back ?
Or have I fallen off the grid? 
Like Air Malaysia Flight MH370
Is this Heaven ?
Who am I talking 2? 
Am I Me ?
Or am I You ?
Who is writing this ?
The Survivor? 
Or the best Guess? 
Like a passport in a furnace 
Of destroyed evidence 
The only piece 
In a inquest process

Maiden Song

Our ties are conditioned
to change, I concede, 
But loss of love infuses vice
She staggers from 
sensuous embrace
to unsavoury tryst

A single day for her
endures derision
and fuses with spite
Permissive intrusions on 
her formative grace 
ensure a slow descent 
Idyllic consumption of faith 
melds with disgrace 
And discarded life 
is piled upon nameless symptoms

My beloved maiden buries creed
She tippy-toes between star-rays
in recurrent mists
Thrust by uneven electives
to the throes of inquest
Finding those with a sensitive nature...
unbearably kind

They judge and spew soundless expletives 
Clamour for unreachable life infinites, 
She senses
that hope beyond a steep pier 
is indelibly true...
but putatively quaint

She dives for cover
when senses engage
Derides her stilts
when
time is lost
And sings my praise
when night invites

Nature Takes Its Course

monotetra

Our school’s sylvan woods hosts new guests,
A slew of deer ticks could infest
the ancient football stands with pests.  
The coach is stressed; the coach is stressed.

Venerable dean is abreast;
he spots some juveniles at rest
and sends them searching for tick nests.
Nature's inquest, nature's inquest.

Opossums can clean up this mess.
The mysterious students press 
dumpsters where possums feast and fest,
a quick arrest, a quick arrest.

The prisoners are put to test;
swiftly they move, nests they molest.
Tranquility! ticks are suppressed;
Coach is impressed; coach is impressed.


written May 9, 2016

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