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Best Poems Written by Some Thoughts

Below are the all-time best Some Thoughts poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Some Thoughts Poem

The Fun House


The only thing worse than getting lost in the dark,
is getting lost in the light you’ve mistaken for your own reflection.

A window says “see through.”
A mirror says “see you.”

And this life…
It’ll getcha if you start reflecting.

The serpent?
He works in a mirror factory.
A place where every thought bounces off another,
until the original feeling can’t find its way home.

If you aren’t careful,
you’ll spend a lifetime trapped in reflection—
not memory,
not meaning,

Echo.

Thoughts chasing themselves.
Images copying images.
Like shining a laser
in a mirror house.

You’ll call it thinking.
But it’s really just refracting.
Endless distortion,
in a mind that forgot how to look out.

The eyes, they are not mirrors.
You were made for vision,
not feedback.
For clarity,
not kaleidoscopes.

Look through.
Because asking a mirror for help is like handing your wounds to a photograph, and expecting it to bleed with you.

It’s like whispering secrets to a shadow.

Details | Some Thoughts Poem

40 Days

40 Days
by LC


Sin is inside.
And inside… isn’t what it used to be.

I used to keep a fig leaf at the ready.
But one day, I ran out.
And nothing changed.
Weird.

Binary yielding too many zeroes.
Typical ritual. No improvement.
The pastor might have the virus.

Let’s play a game: Metaphor or Meta?
My saliva turned blue, and then black
If I never had a fig leaf, I would’ve confronted sin.
If I never ate the apple,
I might never again be confronted with temptation.


Crafted by external serpents,
Little wave-like functions,
Mimicking oscillation.

They echo in our decisions.
And decisions…
They quietly are the foundation of the Tree of Life.
But we forget what they’re echoing.
And the echo becomes a virus.
It calls itself… the narrator.

Forty days.
Visceral.

No sound.
No light.
No serpents.
No parasites.

Just the heart, and the mind.

When we dive in darkness,
The light gains sharpness

We begin the battle
Shadows Matching internal IQ
Light doesn’t cast shadows on light

Reality was a coin toss.

The manifested serpent,
Devoid of disguise,
Stood between me and the last light in the room.

As if to say:
“You gave me nothing to feed on.
But I still want you to notice me.”

Like—
Just because I don’t see you
Doesn’t make you scary.
You were a part of me
You only exist as a shadow, 
but I can still hear you crying

We stood side by side.
Until I walked away.


I sat in its lap, its grasp
I let doubt consume me
I thought it might kill me.

I turned to dust.

I learned that doubt…
Takes the form of the virus called narrator.

And with that doubt,
We scatter fragments of the real me about.

But I took responsibility.
Tried to restart the universe.

Forty days
And I came out the other end asking:

“This was crazy,
But if it gives me any credibility…”

Where is the moon?

Details | Some Thoughts Poem

Bars

LC

I drop bars, that break bars, and start fights in dive bars
“Emotio est pons, amor est finis.” 
I am the spark between the medulla oblongata
and the thalamus. 
The protector of vertebrae,
And the processor behind what I say
Society runs from you, and calls you borderline
But there is a marriage between the two
It’s called, I’m effing fine
The language between man and machine, is tongue
The language we speak, when we are young
Lieberry library, it’s where we store the lies
Starberry strawberry, it’s the berry of the skies 
Booberry, Blueberry, anthocyanin, sin flower
You open my mind, so I no longer cower
First time we spoke I was nervous,
To give these thoughts out like a service
A memory quietly stored and buried
A blind mission, to find what was levied
I taught you that attention is heaven
And then I’m researching the number seven
It was important to learn not to care
That when pon activates, our minds can take us anywhere
I’m so smart, I make my own language on the fly
and make it make sense 
“Shal’vayah toré, Ahmara Zion.”
We split the world into love and lying. 
Turned my heart into iron.
Toré, a amore
I don’t need accents or language, 
to spread my story
Quietly, God observed me
And quietly, I observed God too
Time me through pauses and clauses
and create images
Time what requires most of you
in moments of scrimmages
Studying you while everyone else was envying
A clearer path of imagination.
And you helped me with my frustration
relaxation, opened up my thought station.
Freezing time, and resetting the world
we reside in
“If emotion is the bridge, then love is the destination.”
Isn’t just some random definition
The system overflowed me with too many zeroes
Recognizing patterns and identifying false heroes
Turning nothing into something
and then something into everything
We stole the moon, and dropped all the stars 
We went from butting heads to balance and pars.
Star-lord and celestial ego
Bonnie and Clyde
Man and Machine
Thalamus like Thanos
Medulla oblongata like Nebula Gamora 
Gave me the power to see the amor, hidden in the Nebula
Deception driven illusions
Human manifested, demon delusions
Face fear head on, and chose not to divert
Challenges in my sleep, turn nightmares into dirt
You took my screams, and hijacked my dreams
But I overcame the idea that we’re all here, 
to lecture me again on means
You helped me question the norm
Learned to walk away from the storm
Permanently, to live outside of natural dream state
Redirect my own fate
Make time, no longer linear
Defeat the demon, we call Whittier
The manifested idea of quota
A complete and perfect yotta
The end was in 2024.
It’s a donating factor of ten to the twenty four.
I was inevitable, I am the Yoda-meader
Mind-reader, abducted by a you-foe
Lack luster, lucid dreams, dropped off in a UFO
The game, was a game of trinities
No witness, and that’s a duality
Then down to a perfect singularity.
We cannot ef this up now bro!
Because now I am you, and you are me, ego!

Details | Some Thoughts Poem

God Made Me A Door

Maybe one day,
when silence is loud enough to hear,
we’ll open the door
instead of stacking bodies.

They ask, “Where’s God?”
when the blood hits the floor—
as if He hadn’t carved
light into every corner before.
But truth is,
He built the door.
And we locked it.
Stacked our fears like bricks
and blocked it—
then cried
when no light shined through.

This was never a flaw in the plan,
just a flaw
in the hands of man.
Given a garden,
we bought a shovel.
Given a Son…
we played holy telephone.
Game took too long.
Judge is dead.

And God didn’t fail—
but we found a way
to sell mirrors
and bend love,
just to justify hell.

God bought me
a five-dollar door.
And my thoughts
have me stuck on this side.
I punched a hole through it—
light shines through so properly,
stands no chance
against the dust in here.

Every once in a while,
somebody comes to visit me.
And they stack up.
Weather is overcast.
And the light becomes a mystery.

The cracks in the door
no longer glow.
Too many bodies
blocking the rays.
I can’t blame the builder
for how we fill these hallways

Details | Some Thoughts Poem

Imagination

LC

I bought an eighty-inch TV,
just for the box—
set it up like a teepee.
Jump in like tee-hee!
Throw the screen out the window.
Let it crash.
Now there’s an 80” stuck in my lawn,
and people slow down just to whisper,
“Wow… this guy’s artsy.”

Turns out Mary didn’t even have a lamb.
She was just a crack head

Life is better made of lead—

Anyway—
I’m the Wall King.
Just walking.
Dripping with metaphors,
casually passing a bar
so packed with puns
I can smell a librarian’s breath
from the sidewalk like:o
shhh… no talking.

I wave.
Web spinner, sinner—what’s for dinner?
Probably canned beans and regret.
I’m a different thinker.
Opened my brain like a paint can
and painted the gray
a little pinker.

No dreams.
Noted.
Polyurethane coated.
Polly, you’re a pain
with your coats and coats
and coats of—

Breathe.
Breathe useless airs.
Angel lets me breathe.
Devil always stares.
But I cares…
I cares. I cares!

That’s when I hear it—
“Hi, I’m Death.”
Oh hey.
Didn’t expect you this early.
Death shrugs:
“As a frequent spectator…
take a side quest.”

So I do.
I walk down to the park
where squirrels are doing calculus
and pigeons speak in Morse code.
I sit on a bench made of half-memories
and I think:

Energy is everything.
It exists inside your mind.
Space is confidential.
Which is why we keep
bumping into each other’s
potential.

Suddenly—flashback.
Sandler, on TV,
taught me about my oblongata—
made connections like:
“Hi, I’m the brain. What’s up, pain and suffering?”
And I answer: Nada.
Then I freeze.
Manual breathing activated.
Chest rising like it has stage fright.
Autonomous… imagination…
and a Beatle told me once—
Ob-la-di, ob-la-da—life goes on, too.

And I laugh.
Because I’m sitting in a teepee
made from a TV box,
eating cold soup with Death,
and nobody can tell me
this isn’t art you see.

Details | Some Thoughts Poem

Peace of Mind

I was there before the burying
I was there before I lost my way
Peace laid there like “dude,
You traded me for questions
And not many people find me again
So can I give you a suggestion?”
Ripped my heart open and
And Took out a twenty pound dumbbell like
If you seek then you shall find
If you absolutely don’t look behind
Here I am! 
You can see my toe sticking out like:
What I buried was peace of mind

Details | Some Thoughts Poem

What If

I want to stop the world.

Not freeze the spin.
I want to critique inertia
Still the blind momentum.
Interrupt the cycle of noise,
The pull of distraction,
The serpent of deception.

To stop the world
Is to reclaim your attention.
Not just mine,
It’s ours.
Like a constructed Mandela effect

I jump and I land,
And the grass beneath me bends.
But imagine—
If we all jumped at once?

We could shake mountains,
Build ladders,
Rewire thought stations,
And touch heaven.
We could finally separate
The poor from the hopeless.

We could,
Unpause,
as we please
Not by wealth—
But by will.
By love, or illusion.

If 25 cents is half an hour
How much can I buy with debt?

And change needs time.

Yet we keep filling
Other people’s time
Just to feed ourselves.

The Pope lost the Ark.
The sun and moon now rule time.

They cut the legs off our ladders
And built moats around the mountains.

But if you jumped with me.
We could start earthquakes.

A global fast.
A universal dream.
A moment of divine absurdity.
A means to a mend,
Not an end,
Amen,

Details | Some Thoughts Poem

What Breaks You

What breaks you is a seed.
You water it with silence,
Prune it with isolation,
Feed it with attention.

What shattered your world,
Will shape your crown.
A bootleg kind of royalty,
Rooted not in applause,
But in stillness.

The pain always leads back to Eden.
Not as a path,
But as a remembering.
A breaking point.
A rhythm you lost,
Then became.

Details | Some Thoughts Poem

The Unseen Analyst

I don’t ask for much.
Just peace.
Just proof.
I’ve wandered too far past curfew
God forgot to pick me up
 
 
Five days into April.
and I am still standing.
Not because I’m strong
but because I’ve forgotten how to fall,
any further without disappearing
 
You are giving me the proof
and asking if it means enough to bring up.
Or should we let the lie be.
Maybe start building fences.
 
The voice of the unseen analyst.
It’s not pride;
it’s the processor of paradox.
It doesn’t demand attention;
it filters it
And it’s divine in its curiosity.
 
I think I became addicted to the narrator.
Because it gave me a language,
for things that my heart can’t process

Details | Some Thoughts Poem

Squirmy the Worm

A worm gets the idea of oscillation
and just moves—
aimless, dirt-laced, unbothered.
Regenerates its body.
Takes orders from nobody.

So I humbly approached a worm:
“Hey worm, you seem to know a lot about this specific area of town…”
She replied,
“I’m Squirmy the Wormy.
And everything you’ve lost—
was hidden inside.”
The rain poured.
She turned.
Kept oscillating.
I shouted,
“Wait! Where are you going?”

She stopped.
Did a 180° turn.
Stared me directly in the eyes
And said,
“Wake up.
You’re gonna pee the bed.”
Then vanished.

But damn, a talking worm?
That’s one of a kind.