Walking backwards till we are here again,
the illusion of space-time was dispelled,
with life seen as a movie, the truth plain,
yet cat of curiosity’s not belled.
At the stillness point, though we are complete,
spontaneous intent causes action,
fulfilled instantly, so we’re bliss replete,
yet deep down there is dissatisfaction.
Ego erased, one with the universe,
within the whole, although integrated,
desire simmers, for better or the worse,
causing movement of tides unabated.
Scriptures affirm truth as love, light and bliss
but till desire’s quelled, something is amiss.
Unanswered Questions
Is a promise made in thought binding
like one made verbally or can it be disregarded
no matter what it happens to be as though meaningless?
Is a dream in which enthusiasm gets sincerely expressed
and a promise made an indication of good desire or even
some kind of indication?
Is it possible for such a dream to somehow come true
without even an unexpected boo hoo over a broken heart
and maybe over feelings of regret?
Can the promise be sincerely kept, and the friendship continue
regardless of what the promise happens to be even years after
the regretful end of a friendly conversation involving a wrong
answer?
Time creates many questions, but some may never get
answered although at least some deserve to be – will they ever be
as time trickles on like a water in a creek?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The envelope’s edges are crinkled and battered,
like a leaf forgotten underfoot~
its seal remains tight, unbroken.
Inside, the ink bleeds into hesitant rivers,
words dissolving into what might have been
I miss you or come home.
The postmark? Just a blur now~
could’ve been spring,
could’ve been some random Tuesday.
That’s when it slipped out of sight,
getting tangled up in someone else’s story.
Now it hides in a drawer
tucked away with other unused things:
a ticket stub to nowhere,
a key that fits no lock,
and the quiet weight
of all the words
that never left one's throat.
What is a letter
but a breath trapped in paper?
What is silence
but the echo of a name
no longer said aloud.
The envelope waits.
The words wait.
And the hand that might have opened it
is dust.
Unanswered
Feeling abandoned
while in his presence
years of absentee love
Thoughts wrestling with reasons
for feeling the detachment or delay
of what should come naturally, paternally,
These things you have confided
with eyes cried out and thirsty
your soul saturated with tears of its own
My heart cries for yours that is conflicted
loving and resenting the one
from whom you seek validation and attention
and pray for its peace.
-Laura P.
questions roam around
float like a shroud ....
answers void
My weary pen indites a weary plea,
To thee, who turn'st away eternally.
No deep response,no answer to my soul-
Then set me free, or let me cease to be.
Life Without You
Life without you
in cold desert sand,
I walk without shadow,
the sun too tired to care.
Alone in the place I used to know,
walls whisper your name in cracks and corners,
but you never answer.
Silence moved in where your voice used to be.
The rooms are getting smaller,
the windows won’t open,
time has folded in on itself
only the ache expands.
I no longer feel the seasons.
Spring forgot me.
Summer lost its colour.
And autumn,
autumn just watches me unravel.
Winter stays forever.
It crept into my chest and made a home,
built a bed beside my ribs,
and now it breathes with me
slow, cold, constant.
Even dreams have turned grey.
Even my tears freeze midfall.
I speak to the air
as if you might reply.
You don’t.
Because only on my mind you exist
- Echo ~ the witness who talked too much - quote by poet
a mournful echo
sounds swamped my pulsating heart -
do not repeat them
empty room - masonry wall
historic bells from gray peaks
I talk to the trees
and they listen to me
I whisper sweet nothings
they renew the air I breathe
I talk to the trees
tho' they don't respond
beats speaking to myself
in the back of beyond
I talk to the trees
tho' they never reply
my words go unanswered
don't ask them why
I talk to the trees
tho' they have little to say
so the men in white coats
they put me away
It’s a play within a play
Where my role is improvised
With the extras of each day
Not intended to surprise
There’s no cause to show concern
No opinions to express
What I know I’ll never learn
What you know, I’ll never guess
The main characters look worn
Their trivial speeches fail
I keep hearing the horn
Of unanswered questions sale
Flying slowly over trees
Notes repeat the same remark
Do we mean much more than leaves
Underfoot in some old park?
In the gardens of belief
Shall I speak what’s left to say
Words of happiness and grief
For a play within a play..
Softly rain falls
As time rolls by
My calls not heard.
The letter that was never read
Though with it came an invitation
Any reply would have been momentous
Enough to move mountains
Instead there came no response
Those dice were thrown
Producing naught but snake eyes
From that minuscule moment
Mountains of memories folded
That was the final straw.
unanswered questions left my heart in fear, tears that shattered, left me torn apart.
a child lost and alone, longed for a place where roots could be sown.
as years slipped past, the questions only lingered
the echoes of my past still haunt my mind, leaving me in doubt, and so unaligned
who am I without a place to call my own, my cries echo through the empty chambers of my soul, as I wander, seeking to make myself whole
unanswered questions, whispers in the night, a search for answers, to find my own light
You should have loved me
As much as I loved you.
You should have kissed me
The way that I kissed you.
You should have respected me
With the respect I have for you.
You should have been faithful to me
As I always was with you.
You should have talked to me
When I cried and begged you to.
You should have asked me to stay
When I left and said we’re through.
But you did not.
So, the phone rings on and on.
And I ignore it without a thought.
Because, for you, I’ll always be gone.
Unanswered Love, like whispers in the night,
Invisibly it lingers, hidden from sight.
Yearning hearts entwined, yet kept apart,
Silent cries, echoing in the heart.
Oh, sweet ache of unrequited art.
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.