Question Poems - Poems about Question

What is beauty? Can I sing to it? Can I bathe it in Honeydew lotion and read it ancient love poems as it fights the gravity of sleep? Can I feed it pureed applesauce and wipe its dripping face clean? Can I hold it in my arms and feel the weight of infinite potentials I will carry on my shoulders until it finds place for them on...

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If it's a choice to be happy is it a choice to be beautiful? Will beauty wrap me up in sherpa and bake me until I'm gold brown like the perfect chocolate chip cookie, if I will it? What is beauty anyway? Is it even real? Or will it all just disappear with our flesh as it wastes away into the earth it once called beautiful?...

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Who will prevail - gardener or snail?...

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It’s the work of fate or so we’re made to believe that when trials fall nature had it all planned. But rarely do we pause to ask ourselves Why this? Why me? We make choices and for each choice, a consequence be it a leap or a crawl we must brace for the fall. Question everything. Even nature is a question a challenge we were born to accept....

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I beat the Holy Spirit at its own game, Yet the heavens whisper, calling my name. How many Archangels have fallen to me? I count their wings—one, two, three. I ponder the question, sharp as a blade: Could God ever fight, unafraid? No scripture speaks of His hand in...

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A rose upon the vine too soon will fade; no matter if the bloom is bleak or fair, its petals drop, no matter what their shade and lie forlornly in the garden there. A rose is just a flower and no more. Its blossom time of hours far too few; once petals fade, there’s no one to restore that graciousness and...

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She's never loved broken love poems, but now she writes them. She's always feared swollen heads and broken tones, yet now she finds she fights them. Despite her mother's devotion, she's forgotten the taste of oxytocin - broken bonds within the unspoken, spoken. Now emotion runs frozen underneath hollow motions. These days she spends her time playing theologian. Here's my question: No one cares to know...

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In the whirlwind of my thoughts, every question spins like an unwavering storm, a slippery enigma that escapes every attempt to grasp it in my palms, a million whispers dance in my mind, day and night, never pausing, like a spring tide forcefully hitting the shore, they strike my mind with a deafening echo, I spill my thoughts when...

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Is it enough to call yourself a poet, take some scattered words and hang them out like flags flapping pointless rags unless arranged with skill, pooled to fill an empty space with dribbled verbs that splatter making stains upon the page, there must be meaning, surely something more than endless dreary sounds waves of flotsam floating noise which lands then strands itself...

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Darkness engulfed me I struggled to adjust to the shadows blinked when my vision brought to light— an empty room, rumpled sheets of an unmade bed a tear-stained pillow where I'd laid my head There was a wooden luster on the furniture I sniffed the unmistakable church scent of candles six long white tapers on two candelabra My fingertips smoothed white satin beneath...

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The God Thing I often think of God, but Morgan Freeman`s face gets in the way So, now we know God is a handsome actor looking godlike and that is Ok, if he had looked Chinese, I might have objected Death is a conundrum; We accept the physical death but the problem Is what is happening to our thoughts from experience? After...

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"It's all going to be okay" he would say, with no scent of doubt in his breath, even as its aroma reeked from mine, as I'd blurt out "how can you be so sure?" I never figured out what made my dad so positive in life, though I'm positively sure his life wasn't free from trial and the upsetting...

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Eternal Question : God ! No God ! May be God Yet to be solved ! A Big Quest. Ancient Beliefs in number of Gods or Goddesses are now turned obsolete : Totally...

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Growing up in a loving family of seven— church on Sundays, bare feet running wild, sharing a tricycle with three— double the fun, one standing behind the seat. Dreaming of white dresses and Prince Charming, following my dreams, praying in church to a God so giving. Marveling at trees, sunrises, sunsets, the deep blue sea— His touch lingering in the beauty of life, painting a picture so...

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The Eternal Question: God, No God, Maybe God By Tarian Marks I had a thought about if God didn't exist What if man alone was responsible for these temptations that we couldn't resist? What if our own ideas alone conceived buildings, technology, and rivers? What if we were responsible for creating the sweat from warmth and the cold that makes...

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