Thinking Poems - Poems about Thinking

Let's see how this goes. A means of logical thought. Taking inductive first, What has been observed to make life worse. People are not having fun, Appear to be quite glum. Groceries missing from the shelves, What is...

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I know that you are far away, Yet in my own despite, My still expectant glances stray, Still searching for your sight, Though all too sure that your sweet face, Far yet to light my view, In every moment, every place, My eyes are seeking you, In hope, how vain the hope, I know, That some propitious chance, Might bring you here tonight, and throw, Your...

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They say life slips through our fingers, but I think it slips through our toes, for you never know the day you might... wrong a right dye your hair green out of spite or even take the plunge into death's dreaded depths and... Go And when you do, you might think of all the things you didn't do - all the places you never walked, but more...

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Thinking of you in everything I do; gratefully, deep thoughts of you live on. You are so missed- yet, promise it is true- until my days expire and I am gone, live memories remain while I pursue exclaiming, “Mom, I love you still,” each dawn. ...

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You cast your gaze, sharp and cold/ A relic of Salem, a story retold/ Convictions weigh heavy, though truth stands clear/ Yet you brand me alarming, fueled by fear/ Your judgement looms, a shadowed stake/ Bound by laws, yet the fire you'd make/ If time unshackled your hands today/ Would I see the embers of history's fray/ Puritan echoes, they linger still/ Through whispers...

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Today’s blessing goes out to all those who think outside the box for even a second, an hour…one a minute…. for those who never think outside the box… will be forever living in it. ...

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Yeah its true Things change all the time I saw it just passing by And while I'm standing here I think how i came here Deep i think and notice, The differences too feel good But I'll never forget the start....

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Synchronize: A Dance of Thought and Feeling This momentary presence The rhythm of overflowing excitement Distant silence of blue mountains. Tender steps breezing a dance — Can there be more to this moment to meet? The inner ecstasy of awareness glows, Radiating peacefully from deep within. Shapes of blankness reflect in shades — Can there be more to this moment to feel? A sanctuary of...

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Synchronize: A Dance of Thought and Feeling This momentary presence The rhythm of overflowing excitement Distant silence of blue mountains. Tender steps breezing a dance — Can there be more to this moment to meet? The inner ecstasy of awareness glows, Radiating peacefully from deep within. Shapes of blankness reflect in shades — Can there be more to this moment to feel? A sanctuary of...

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“Thinking is the hardest work there is, which is the probable reason why so few engage in it.” —Henry Ford (June 1922) people say I don’t work hard~ now I know why ...

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Broken, naive girl not thinking about her world. Broken naive girl, pacing and still Noone to find. Broken, naive girl, it's too late. It's fate; you will always be broken this way. Broken naive girl, keep dreaming; you're scheming. That's what everyone sees in you. Broken, naive girl, sit down, your clown. You're too happy now,...

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“The chances against anything manlike on Mars are a million to one,” he said. (Excerpt from the book by H G Wells.) WATCH OUT, run for your lives ...the Martians are coming! Well on October 30, 1938 Terrified listeners truly thought the world was ending When a radio broadcast Of H G Wells book ‘The War of the Worlds’...

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Ladies and Gentlemen, his time came much sooner Then we could have imagined, now mourning this crooner On the verge of this pinnacle, about to be on top I speak of the memorial of one Reginald Belford Scott Just a statement to the world with this cover Simply to let us all know they need time to mourn for...

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Ekphrasis on Album Cover Art – 3-28-25 Jericho Road – Written, sung, recorded by poet ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Thinking About Jericho Road A road with no name, where earth births stillborn stones, Snakes through stillness Into a fading perspective that neither winks nor smiles Not touching impotent palms of bleached fronds, Colored in the scent of cold ashes, To whisper a chorus of mystery To saints and...

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trapped in skeletal arms of the wolverine forest, I crave rose-scents from the corpse crescent, seeing through the portal of pained pupils, written with cinder-gold between lethal lines of nostalgic nightfall, about sunsets woven in angst, from stone-cold tears s u p p r e s s e d within crawling clouds before onyx rain… and must I scribble sonnets...

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