As the poorly-programmed project
had received no traction
badly borne out by the evidence
of no enthusiasm or action
with accumulation-based speculation
pulling strings as a puppeteer
when whipping up interest
then asking for a volunteer
inducing imploring inveigling
and coercing someone to commit
"It's more than my job's worth,"
said Jack, "but I'll take a crack at it."
Close together, we chat.
Relatives, cousins - our mothers: the twins.
In the wind, ghosts;
we speculate.
We wonder while we
chitchat and munch.
Distant memories
of practical jokes, tokes;
days before she ran away;
& not questioning her
upon her return.
Sitting on my lavender bedspread;
laughing, listening; forlorn-ing.
Her i.d. tags, army surplus look,
blonde hair; my long locks, dark brunette.
In the Summer week,
we speculate on ghosts;
something we know nothing about.
We stood, took turns
standing over his coffin -
her brother joked
to relieve the tense.
All together, our gang;
our mother’s brother was twenty-five…
My cousin was fifty-two;
in the wind, ghosts,
I’ve surpassed
speculation, leans differently today,
knowing one day,
this world will fade,
as another comes into view.
Close together, we’ll chat,
as relatives speculate.
Detached from herd humanity
We are stuck inside this mind
Waiting for a saviour
Where realities aligned
Hoping for that moment
Can’t articulate at all
What else isn’t known yet
Secrets waiting to be recalled
Like no one has a single clue
What am I trying to understand
It’s Smokey memory haunts me
Existence is the key
Life is more than we’re aware of
But there is no clarity
Prevented from true knowing
Faith directed by deceit
Is everybody truly blind
Am I the only one who sees
Tomorrow my lives have come and gone
My soul learned the way to be
There’s no substitute for life.
I find myself,
seduced by yearnings.
I’m flourishing here,
contemplating sin.
I’ve nothing to do
when I’ve nothing but time.
I’m reusing solitudes -
they’ve become ragged.
What’s the answer then?
Should I seal my girly heart,
engage in uncaring kisses
like it’s ‘casual friday’ -
connive brief excitements
- just to feel a pulse?
SPECULATION ON REINCARNATION
Pointless speculation, why go
against God’s written word?
To write about speculations
from imperfect men … heard.
Only question, why go there,
upon worldly thoughts think?
Further away from truthfulness
from cup of lies … choose drink.
To Bible readers doesn’t make sense,
they know that “God can’t lie”.
Reincarnation dare probe
to win contest … not I.
Appreciate poetry contest,
love how they challenge me.
This one because of it’s content
surprise ... if placement see.
To each his own allowed to choose,
our personal truths write.
I’ll not go beyond truth’s written,
hope poem was ... polite.
SPECULATION
preferences
in
lumiscent nuances
with
tender clarity with
of a visionary
sense of the surreal
immobile
contrasting
dimensional
apathy
an
effect well versed
&surrounded
by
elements of vitality
empirical
interpretations
with
findings silhouetted
in the
spontaneous
&emphatic
so mysterious
romanticised
&fictitious
SPECULATON
unspoken
gaze
stimulates
to
reinvigorate
the
sensitive
simultaneously
the
initial
incident
formats
a dimension
of
memory
to
synchronise
preference
into
the
present
There are those who think the spirits of loved ones departed
Have moved on to their heavenly reward,
And there are those who think they'd like to, but "cain't"
Because they still need to finish something they have started,
And until some resolve they contrive to move toward,
They stay trapped here on Earth as a "haint".
Poltergeists don't exist, no real proof there at all,
This is just an "old wives tale", at best,
So I'd entreat you to show some restraint.
That strange noise you may hear some stormy night in the hall
Is just weather related, so give it a rest.
You may think it's a "haint",
But it "ain't".
Author's note: "Haint" is an old mispronounced folklore word for "haunt", or ghost.
No speculation, simply feel
Dissolve into the void
Bliss thunder in zenith appeal
Our presence overjoyed
Purring rapture throbbing
Magnetism brightening
Ecstasy heightening
In meditation
No speculation
23-September-2021
Quietus
In the middle of a quiet, Before the tiger’s roar;
At the level of the dawn, Before the wave returns to shore,
I chose one petal from, a many petaled flower
Stared into its nature for, What seemed to be an hour
Then let it fall and walked away,To let the earth devour
Gifted to the root, the stalk, the stem, the bud
It may become as I, a shoot grown from the mud.
One day with age of years, I’ll come again
To choose the petal I have known, To hold in hand as then,
Then move myself once more to find my home.
And as I think upon the petal, It remains with me
Where it has always been this while, for those who love to see;
Leaving and returning, Matching movements, of my own.
The time we give to each, Is but a loan.
The ebb and flow of all our understandings.
I know the petal, As the petal so knows me.
More than chance encounter this, Allowing us to see
The beauty of all others is carried in ourselves.
Always,
There is the beauty of the other in ourselves.
Speculation
What is the best time to die?
A beautiful summer’s day
or in the winter when it rains.
There is an untimely satisfaction
that mourners - if there is any-
will be wet and die of the flu.
Sitting in the antechamber
discussing where we are going.
My plan is clear its Saragossa
where the dream of life continues,
because our conciseness was
a flash of light in the darkness.
At first I thought that we humans have it much better than our pets
because we have many different types of doctors
that know how to treat all our growing old aches and pains.
Then I remembered that our dogs and cats have doctors too
who treat the same elderly problems.
Then I was logically forced to recognize a difference;
our pets can’t use the telephone to make an appointment
and can’t drive to the emergency room
and can’t schedule regular checkups with a specialist.
All they can do is sit on our laps
and hope for the best.
Then common sense forced me to think
about the difference between being domesticated and being wild
and I started to feel bad for all the wild monkeys
that got sick during the day or at night.
They couldn‘t get medical support, they were wild!
Then I thought about camels and pigs and chickens
that could get medical support, they were domesticated!
Then I started to wonder about horses and goats and cows
and started to contemplate how veterinarians and groomers
get involved in determining the direction of their health.
That’s when I thought about a name tag titled Zoologist.
The premise of your argument,
Provokes blind faith, to disagree.
Yet the answer to those questions
What's true they cannot see.
Those so called miracles divine,
Could nature by perchance bestow,
All wonders that confound belief,
Mankind will never know.
4 / 24 / 2019.
speculation
every one is born a winner
so don't stop me
our obvious pressure
don't drive me
in this modern world
cos I have find my way
is definitely not same with yours
speculation
everyone is born a winner
so why the hatred
why all this jealousies
why stab me at my back
when I clean your tears
with love
speculation
everyone is born a winner
this never exclude you
neither does it forbid my destiny
in life
I thought friends were for life
so why do you make my success
a crime
why the sudden change
life is a great teacher
especially when friends
turn enemies
speculation
everyone is born a winner
this is a clear honest truth
no one is a failure
failure is only but just an event
an ordinary event that put
many to an everlasting captive
were they only live with a permanent
weakness
no wonder they are never
far from my name in their lips
no wonder they are never far from
speculation
BEGIN AGAIN by Marc Satz, COPYRIGHT Libr. of Cong.
Should I wander beyond the wall (of stars).
Promise you'll catch me when night falls.
Thoughts could get quite intense though
some call it pure nonsense.
Did the world begin anew,
or did someone tear it down and
start again ?
Beneath the ancient sands I'm told
lies something, that when found, will touch our souls.
Thinking out loud again, drawing a crowd of men.
Did the world begin anew,
or did someone tear it down and
start again ?
Things feel different today.
Colder and much farther away.
Let your heart be filled again.
Time to rebuild again.
So begin your life anew,
and if someone tears it down just
START AGAIN ...
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.