Short Questing Poems

The moon's early light, 
golden and questing,
spilled down around us,
recognizing its own.



December 14, 2016...

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Tuning in the universe
Purpose and design
Questing, ever questioning
Matters of the mind
Information sequencing
Deep within the cell
Irreducibly complex
Creator has a tell
...

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We are together
and apart, like hyenas.

You demand to be captured -
roped to a pulse;
we still know
how to knot blood.

After the questing
tenderness arrives quietly.
My lips brush the wet vines
of your hair....

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(First published in The Ravi 2015)
I flee the jaws of Time's story
As they snip me apart twig by twig
Black Roses nesting
In the flesh that was broken
Sand sweeps in, questing
Eternity's whittling me down to a sprig
An Enting lost in a paper factory...

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In the quest for the fire I was alarmed by the sudden storm;
The thunder the waters;
Flows falling down mists illuminating pouring raindrops;
Putting out the quest the blazing fires:


5/1/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021...

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Questing over my litting ham
Tasting the sweet deep cold thunders 
Still can I give my body's juices
In pure love
When many fly without a thought
While the tears rive my taunted cheeks
I know a salty and selfless love
No man has ever bought
Nor can ever earn......

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The mariner's moon
strikes shadows starlight deep
questing mystery
within the slipping stars
       silver on the strands
of love.
   and you alone may take
the sailor's hand to lead him
home.
   as dark forms against the 
crimson skye
    your silent figures meet
at home....

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DIG

Dig with spade and a soulful heart,
Destiny’s soil chambered beneath.
Dust chalice canvas, questing art —
Dovelike Wings of lily bequeath.

Dig deep into the chasm of love —
Desired silty handfuls, free of
Debris, a blessed ruddy start.*

6/5/2018
Joseph May’s Pleiades Contest
*blessed with 2 syllables...

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Life is a lock
Questing for my key
Will I get the right one?

Life's a river
Many twists and turns
Where are my boat and fin?

Life is rainbow
Sky full of colors 
When will I perceive them?

Life is a game
Learning tricks to play
Will I win in the game?

Life is magic
My sticks are missing
Where is my dear angel?...

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with the handheld electronic god leading
the people with heads tilted towards it's
command.... I begin to understand the 
dynamic of scurrying cockroaches,
oblivious to their surroundings,
marching ....over....around
and beside similar
species, questing
towards
 self...

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We ask in answers,
         With the questions found,
We are the endless dancers
         And we hear in sound.
On again the questing road
          Looking for to Spring,
Seeing most we are told
          Holding near to bring.
For that gift of the heart
          Is given from that place,
From each their own to part
          Going on in grace....

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Feral footprints awaken underbrush of forests pensive
   Random pitter-patter through twilight's misdirection
Aching winds, intimate branches stir, questing homeward
   Anguished rains, ere stifling seasons muffle senses...

Tender seas toss lucky lovers sun-drenched kisses
   Waves so gently crescendo, drawing destiny
      to Silky Streams of Sentience...

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this storm of paws
on gangled limbs,
lead questing noses
above counter rims,

a whine, a bark
or playful yips,
those rough house days
of tumbled flips,

a world so new
so wonder wide,
eager running leaps
to nature's call abide,

now at dusk these settled storms
slept as dark falls like the dew,
a twitch, a snore, a growling dream
anxious yet for morning new....

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Joy tree form
Hint scented mint
Lies forbidden myth
Waking nightmare youthful grin
Echoes of fate not found
Questing toward towers
Safe escape 
Remote fear of flying
Waking removed from earth
Zoo of fruit unpicked
Light breaking the limits 
Tracing freedom inside a cage
Joyful trees give form to my grin
Grace a phantom of lost terror
Waves eclipse the moons shadow...

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I can see a 
pale green 
farmhouse 
against the 
nearly neon 
vegetation 
of the cornfields. 
Soybean sprouts 
are shooting 
up here and 
there. 
  
In this place, 
there is no 
existentialism 
or angst 
questing 
against our 
sanity. 
  
There is no 
god or God. 
  
Just the cornstalks, 
the soybean sprouts, 
and the pale green 
farmhouse 
in the distance....

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Plundering poets' works is pathetic,
Lusting after fame through theft weakly lame.
Acts in true nature non-empathetic,
Garbing the thief in a cloak of black shame.
Immoral is this foul activity
Against another author's questing mind.
Raping another's creativity,
Indulging in this crime so unrefined,
Signals a soul unworthy of respect;
Muse on this poem's truth and self-reflect....

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‘Tis the season with all the scents
Like thistle leaves of pine ferments
Burning logs sweet frankincense

A season of reflective white 
whimsical feathered snowy bright
Crystals shape an eyes delight

To treasure kindred interludes
A time of blessed fortitude
questing for in perpetude

Peering through shadow window panes
A glimpse of heaven I do claim
Grasping onto seasons Reign...

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Will I get my dream job, car, or home?
Each instance of fate hangs upon whim,
Like that of the bluebirds, born to roam.
Will I get my dream job, car, or home?
Amidst the questing, time's often flown,
For chance dwells in a region, very dim.
Will I get my dream job, car or home?
Each instance of fate hangs upon whim.


Written on 12/25/2022
For: Chance Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward...

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Should doors close when I journey inward
questing for tints of  awakening
to free myself  from your past ravages-
and accept this burden of unrest.

Should doors close against my earnest will
as midnight tucks you in foams of sheet;
I stand undaunted by ghastly thoughts
Livening your numb heart, should doors close.


Repeat The Phrase Contest: Nette Onclaud
June 10, 2020...

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I'm back here again, I'm the one who loves more, 
Retracing the lines of the one gone before.

I'll not say the words though they flood-fill my mouth,
Your eyes send mixed signs that I cannot work out.

How can I help myself, try not to fall?
For I'm scared our intentions aren't mirrored at all.

Committing the form of your face to my mind, 
My fingers move questing for the love they'll not find....

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Applied Appreciation…
Bold Benevolence…
Concentrated compassion…
Divine discernment…
Enthusiastic energy…
Fantastic fathering…
Godly guidance…
Happy humanity…
Individual illumination…
Jovial journey…
Kindred Kindness…
Luminous love…
Majestic mothering…
Nurtured nestling…
Omnipresent observation…
Prospering population…
Quietly questing…
Releasing resistance…
Shinning souls…
Teaching thanksgiving…
...

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Questing for the way, so you could feel…
Since it is the only way my heart could heal…

In the absence of your Soul, I sense pain…
Hankering my deed would not go in vain….

Your Shadow by my side is what I seek…
 Uncovering the love which I could retrieve…

Longstanding inside the wit, you would breathe day & night…
We as one would prove to be on the brighter sight…

By- Gautam
Dated on – 14th Oct 2015...

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I have come to question
The meaning of a bond
And decided to make it my mission
Of questing for someone to remain fond

Could it be defined by proximity,
Or perhaps is it intimacy?
And yet these terms also inspire my pity
Could argue about the supremacy
Claimed from blood by royalty

But I’m simply here, 
Wondering, how it ever seemed witty
To have been wimpy I hear,
Means I’ll never be enough for thee...

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you are the stream and the desire in my journeys we light the stars and keep 
dreaming the way through the shadows you are my mystery and rhythm  
ascending deep within questing of love impelling the starlight interplaying for 
currents and the silver moons laugh softly for a course of wind and sound 
wheeling a look through a sea striking what states the fallen alter here am i i 
found a star of surration to light the home of me...

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EUCHARIST SUNDAY, WITH AGUA TO THE ROOTS

                                                                        (Questing a Grail)

                                                                  By John T Haupt


The raindrops fall down
All around
Pounding down upon the ground.
Drippingly sounding sweetly to me,
Filling up cups of the leaves on the trees.
On this Sunday take I my ease.
May I have a cup of wine please?...

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