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Best Poems Written by Thoughtsfrom B4

Below are the all-time best Thoughtsfrom B4 poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Home

We're all searching--
searching for a place where we feel safe,
a point we can retreat to and set out from,
a place to call our own. 
It's a feeling, really, a feeling that one finds 
in that which we hold closest to our hearts:
a loved one's embrace,
kind words from a friend,
a song that brings a smile,
memories of long-ago summer afternoons, 
when cares were few and simple.
We're all searching--searching for that feeling;
a feeling most often found in a singular place.
Old or young, man or woman, rich or poor,
no matter race or religion, creed or country,
sometimes we just need to feel like we belong,
like we are part of something. 
For some, it is a house,
and for others, a neighborhood.
For some, it is a town, 
and for others, a team.
For some, it is a school, 
and for others, a state. 
For some, it is a country, 
and for others, the world at large;
yet, for many, it is simply their own small corner of it.
But no matter where it is or why we feel it, it is ours.
Where we can go to renew ourselves and our spirits.
It is our refuge, our place of peace,
a place of love, a place called home.

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When I Am Up - For Mental Health Month

When I am up, every sky is a boundless, cloudless expanse of brilliantly blinding blue.

When I am up, I am William the Conqueror and William Shakespeare and William Jennings Bryan all in one.

When I am up, life is an eternity of perfect days punctuated by soul-shaking truths at every turn.

When I am up, every person I meet is a fount of infinite expectations.

When I am up, my momentous happiness is so moment-to-moment that if I look away for but an instant I might miss it all.

When I am up, I cannot turn away. I am a moth to the flame. I am Icarus. I am entranced by my own fire’s burning ballet. I am ablaze.

When I am up, I feel the gravity of every instant, weighing me down with the weight of it all as I struggle not to fall back to reality.

When I am up, I am alone. I am adrift on my sea of ideas?—?in search of my white whale, trying to stay within the white lines, staring into the glaring white light?—?without hope of rescue.

When I am up, I must come down…


-- by ThoughtsFromB4


"just something I wrote to better explain my bipolar poles"

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An Ode: For My Mother

Dearest mother, I wish to write to thee
On this motherly day of love and glee
To tell you how much I appreciate
The role that you’ve played in shaping my fate.
For, without your patient, loving way,
I would most certainly have gone astray.
Yet with all your strength (and some of your genes)
I successfully made it past my teens,
Through those times and on to the point in life
Filled with happiness, and a loving wife.
A wife with a quiet and gentle strength
That is right in line with your wavelength.
I’ll add her to my ever-growing list
Of the things I love that, through you, exist.
Things which, like you, there is no just other
(For, to me, you’re a most perfect mother).
And so, on this day of celebration
Of mothers all over god’s creation,
I would just like to simply stop and say —
I love you Mother; every single day.


-- by ThoughtsFromB4

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There Is An Angel Who Sits Upon My Shoulder Who Goes By The Name Of Death

There is an angel who sits upon my shoulder who goes by the name of Death,
And though I cannot always see him, upon my neck I can always feel his breath
As he whispers to me relentlessly, deftly using my soul’s own Shibboleth.


He is my phantasmagorical companion from which there has thus far been no escape,
One who has no single voice nor form yet is somehow always horrific in his shape
When my mind’s eye sees him lying in the darkest shadows of my brain's path-illogical landscape.


For while it may be hidden, we are locked in eternal battle, one to which we both are bound,
And though the clashes rage on deep within, the fighting furious and yet without a sound,
The hardest part is not the fighting, it is the feeling that there will never be any respite to be found.


This war is one without casualties but still with victims–its battles waged within the mind–
But even having entreated aid from all my demons with any values I could trade in kind,
I have yet to even dream of any type of peace accords to which we would both agree to bind.


But what I have paid in pain to learn in this seemingly Sisyphean struggle is that one cannot sit idly by,
That every new assault of his is but an opportunity for me to learn new tactics that I can in future then apply.
Thus I have vowed: Whatever new mental munitions he has in store for me, nor what deadly schemes I must yet defy–
Though I know, like you, I too will one day meet my end, it shall be he who will be the first to die.


-- by ThoughtsFromB4

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Why We Speak

To triumph, all the wicked need is our silence as they pursue their tyranny.
For in that silence, we will sadly find that our path lies beside complicity.


True courage stands and speaks its mind; it is undaunted, damn the cost–
It knows the power held in every voice and just how much could still be lost.


This is why, in these times, we must all speak–loud and proud and clear;
Why we must have faith in one another and why we cannot give in to fear.


Why we must stand firm in the face of hate, even when it feels we must move the heavens;
Remembering, always, the simple, eternal truth that from our lips leap weapons.

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Eternity In A Telescope

We're all searching for eternity —
To, in holy book or telescope, someday see
A version of everlasting me
Hanging in the heavens of some infinity.
That we can with, in spite of, or through
A hand of god, philosophy, or science, imbue
Meaning or truth to take us beyond
This pale, blue dot we now find ourselves upon.


-- by ThoughtsFromB4

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And Still The Sun Will Rise

Life will have days that you will wish to revise
Things said or done will fill you with compromise
Decisions over which you will agonize
And still, the sun will rise

At times others will seek to antagonize
Nights filled with anger shall certainly arise
For, sometimes, your reflection, you will despise
And still, the sun will rise

There will be hard days with long heartfelt goodbyes
When all we can still do is but eulogize
Leaving those left with love but still tearful eyes
And still, the sun will rise

There will always be dark nights with cloudy skies
But things, as is their way, will yet stabilize
Finding new joys, as well as new, true allies
As life will go on with its new lows and highs
And still, the sun will rise


-- by ThoughtsFromB4

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The Walls - For Mental Health Month

The Walls… 
The Walls… 
The Walls…
How they look upon me. 
Their eyes,
Once so bright and filled with light,
Are now dark with dead of night.
I can hear them
Creaking,
Speaking to me as they sit
Staring insufferably.
Listening,
Always listening to my every breath — 
Filling me with thoughts of…
The Walls… 
The WALLS… 
THE WALLS…
How their dark stare mocks me,
But truths belie.
For as they sit, 
Stoic and unyielding, 
I too look on, a sly smile smiling back at them.
Tick… tock… 
Tick… tock…
Finally, my ally has arrived!
Time, my friend, you are, as always, never late; 
Nor are you a moment too soon, for now we fight–
THE WALLS… 
THE WALLS… 
THE WALLS…
No longer will they close in on me,
For this time it is not me but We,
And together we can hold back
Their long dark stare.
So now, Walls, you shall yield to me,
No longer closing in
But instead holding back the gloom of night. 
And as time turns my nows into thens,
And the walls’ eyes glow grows from red to white,
This is when Time shares his gift with me–
A brand new day with hope in sight 
One where the world’s colored with delight 
Where walls don't look in but do look bright. 
A day where I can say unto you:
Walls, walls are all you are,
And I
See
Through You.


-- by ThoughtsFromB4

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Waking, Upon A Spring Morning



Clouds drift
Sun Lifts
Minds slumber, peacefully adrift
Birds sing
Bells ring
A quiet morning in the spring 
Blue skies
Mind’s Eye
Takes it all in to clarify
What’s This
All This
Is there anything still to miss
These days
Always
Infinite things to do and say
But Still
Dawn will
Bring back a grand new morning’s thrill
Daybreaks
I wake
With brand new paths that I might take


--by ThoughtsFromB4

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The Wonders of Wandering

Wandering wonders
I see paths break asunder
My wonder wanders


-- by ThoughtsFromB4