For me, this world of questions and the provisional, this chase after an answer that was always put off to the next day, all that was euphoric. I lived in the future.
quote by Francois Jacob
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Always Asking Questions
We all want peace we dont want misery
So many of us wont let us be these things
But we only are confused
We feel stronger as we grow older
But still we feel bemused
Always asking questions
Were always asking questions
And the temptation is to just step back
Well we give what we lack
We will always be asking questions
Why rich?
Why poor?
Always asking questions
Were always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Were always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Always asking
Dont stop asking
Dont stop asking questions
Always asking questions
In answer to this question is just shut up
You dont know
I dont know
Nobody knows
This is an answer to every question
This is a place to begin
Always asking questions
Always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Why this?
Why that?
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Words: william bryant
Music: howard jones
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A great scientist
He was full of questions.
For others, he provided answers
that stunned their knowledge and their world;
for him, his answers were but springboards
for his further questions.
He was the humblest of agnostics,
the humblest too, of atheists:
in the absence of sure faith in answers,
he lived with faith in questions;
and lived in wonder – full of wonder at the laws
that unfolded to his curiosity;
an eternity of questions;
an eternity of wonder at the world;
and perhaps, the God he did not believe in,
smiled, and loved him as a true believer;
sharing the goodness, truth and beauty of the universe
as angels may; believing in the love of law,
as the God of questions and creation must.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Now?
now the questions are asking you
what now? quo vadis?
where to? what for?
why?
yes, why above all.
the questions are asking you
and you must answer with the very same questions to the questions
you beg, and they beg too
the answer to the questions
but you have no answers really
you have learned the art of wisdom
its own ways
its own manners of not answering with answers
who knows? no one knows?
oh, ahh, i must start from where wisdow
was born
here i am and i know nothing....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Untitled 6
now the questions are asking you
what now? quo vadis?
where to? what for?
why?
yes, why above all.
the questions are asking you
and you must answer with the very same questions to the questions
you beg, and they beg too
the answer to the questions
but you have no answers really
you have learned the art of wisdom
its own ways
its own manners of not answering with answers
who knows? no one knows?
oh, ahh, i must start from where wisdom
was born
here i am and i know nothing....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I choose the questions
You think I am wise
Giving you the questions that
You cannot answer
On a wide domain of answers
A question or two shall be taken
And you will answer them for me
Haven’t you tried thinking
If we shift roles
Ok, so you try asking the questions now
I do not answer
I could have answered you
Because I can, but I won’t
I think, I have become real myself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life Gets Me To Wonder
(10/01/11)
Life gets me to wonder, life gets me to think
Am I losing my mind, am I on the brink.
So many questions that enter my mind every day
I think hard about one, and the rest seem to fade away.
Once I find the answer then to the next level I will go
It’s amazing - how god lets us know.
Every question and every answer is a step
That we must climb - and we’ll continue to do this
Till the end of our time.
We will always have questions - that’s why
God gave us a mind.
Knowledge is power on that I don’t deny.
But there are more questions than any of us care to admit
And when we can’t answer them - we surely catch a fit.
Questions about health, love, work, religion
Just to name a few - this list goes on
What are we supposed to do.?
poem by Louis Rams
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His Answer To My Question Was A Question
His answer to my question
Was a question
My answer to his reply
Was returned
With another question
The game of
Answering and asking
Questions
Did not end
Till I questioned
The very motive
Of our conversation
We came to the conclusion
How to pass time?
Was the biggest question
Asking questions
And creating confusion
Was the answer
So we passed our time
Asking and answering questions
The question now is
Whether we did right or wrong?
The answer is
Why ask a useless question?
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Are You All Right?
They keep asking me this question
I don't know how to answer
They say it again
And I still don't have an answer
Really, what do you say to that
I could say I'm fine, but that would be a lie
I could say everything, but then they would keep asking me questions
Questions i couldn't answer
That's when I simply smile and walk away
The question that's always asked, but never answered
Are you all right?
That's for you to decide
(2-21-05)
poem by Brandi Young
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Answer Me That
There
just so,
just beyond
the shadow.
I saw it-
a single sprite-
dashing,
hiding
effervescent.
Running quickly
I can just glimpse
it rounding
the enclosement
threatening
to break out
and be gone
to Futurement
escaping
from me here Now-
gone away
from my pursuit
abandoning
Me to Me
and my meager light
in this Now..
Always the chase
always the escape
always the Sprite
hauls away to the Future
never being captured
in this,
the Now.
How my nourishment-
will
my Future be
if I am starved of it
in my current Now?
How born
is Dread
in this Now
because of this?
I cannot be
or become the Future Tense
if I have no Now.
Also, I can have no Future
if I had not been born.
My past then
is essential
obviously,
to both my Future and
my Now-
all these
seem to be in the Mix.
Somebody tell me this:
If I am
or feel like nobody Now
how can there be a Future me?
Answer me that.
If I am severed from my past
how can there be my Now
or my Future state?
More pointedly
it becomes clear,
at least to me,
I have to borrow from my Future
to sooth my Now's despair
and to placate
my Past
which harbors sorrows there.
And if I can borrow from my future
then it must too be there.
So said Einstein.
Ok.
I have answered me that.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0005 'what Is There To Live For?
and you asked this question
half-privately, half publicly, (so there's some hope then?)
but we, knowing alas your high intelligence,
must pause, reflect, before we answer you...
we could just say, in our severest tones -
that question comes from a nowhere, no-time place
where ignorance is loved, and knowledge is denied..
I'd say, off the cuff, damn you, do just what you like...
you'll do that anyway..
but if you want some words from me..
(who knows the power of words, despite
all evidence to the contrary?) -
some words about what you already know...
I'd say, the answer's in the shortest word
inside your question - 'is':
that tiny window in our life
between the past - that which has shaped your 'is' -
and future - which your 'is' will make for you;
that tiny window, which the gift of life
(and what else do we know of this?)
offers you through all your lived-in life -
gift, to be free; of past and future; simply be,
live in a world of free unselfishness,
be anything and everything, be what you wish -
or better still, be what unsullied life
continually offers you out of the blue...
Or you could count your blessings -
think as Mark has written, just so beautifully, to you...
you'll do just what you do, when all things have been said
and all things written down in words - damn you -
though I for one believe you far from damned..
I knocked upon your door - you didn't answer me;
so now I'm running round the back,
calling through that tiny window
of your very present life; and just to say,
you know yourself; know all the questions, all the answers; but
I'm here for you...and by the way, that ' I ' means we...
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves ... Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point it, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps, then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.
quote by Rainer Maria Rilke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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S.P.S.
Album : Silencer (2001)
The fields have no shame
See with eyes that cannot see
Know the difference just the same
And this I know
Feel the fear of being crushed
When the sky falls on our heads
All the truth is being hushed
And this I know
Love whole love, Love whole love
Love whole love, Love whole love
Love whole love, Love whole love...
I want to hear an answer
I want to hear an answer
Knocked the bullet on the head
Cut myself don't mind in pain
Feel the colour stain me red
And this I know
I want to hear an answer
I want to hear an answer
When you find out everything you've lived is a lie
When you find out everything you've lived is a lie (yeah..)
Love whole love, Love whole love
Love whole love, Love whole love
Love whole love, Love whole love...
I want to hear an answer
I want to hear an answer
When you find out everything you've lived is a lie
When you find out everything you've lived is a lie
song performed by by Zed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man has made some machines that can answer questions provided the facts are profusely stored in them, but we will never be able to make a machine that will ask questions. The ability to ask the right question is more than half the battle of finding the answer.
quote by Thomas J. Watson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Facebook Chatter
so many questions
and so many answers to choose from
can't decide yet
which one
but there is an answer hidden in your hair
your eyes speak them for me
i am restless
i need it now to calm me down
to dispel the questions
with only one answer from you
tell it to me gently
and then touch
me with your lips
my silence is always unfilled.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Question
Why do we never get an answer
When were knocking at the door?
With a thousand million questions
About hate and death and war.
Its where we stop and look around us
There is nothing that we need.
In a world of persecution
That is burning in its greed.
Why do we never get an answer
When were knocking at the door?
Because the truth is hard to swallow
Thats what the wall of love is for.
Its not the way that you say it
When you do those things to me.
Its more the way that you mean it
When you tell me what will be.
And when you stop and think about it
You wont believe its true.
That all the love youve been giving
Has all been meant for you.
Im looking for someone to change my life.
Im looking for a miracle in my life.
And if you could see what its done to me
To lose the the love I knew
Could safely lead me through.
Between the silence of the mountains
And the crashing of the sea
There lies a land I once lived in
And shes waiting there for me.
But in the grey of the morning
My mind becomes confused
Between the dead and the sleeping
And the road that I must choose.
Im looking for someone to change my life.
Im looking for a miracle in my life.
And if you could see what its done to me
To lose the the love I knew
Could safely lead me to
The land that I once knew.
To learn as we grow old
The secrets of our souls.
Its not the way that you say it
When you do those things to me.
Its more the way you really mean it
When you tell me what will be.
Why do we never get an answer
When were knocking at the door?
With a thousand million questions
About hate and death and war.
Its where we stop and look around us
There is nothing that we need.
In a world of persecution
That is burning in its greed.
Why do we never get an answer
When were knocking at the door?
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Evasive
the answers are shy
they have not matured
they always are not
confronting the questions
which keep on roaming like
Nazi soldiers looking
for the kill of the innocent
ones
the answers are arrows
with blunt tips
the questions are the black holes
of our universe
who dares to answer all of them
not me
i see all the questions
and i am but a little boy stupid on the street
looking for mother
and afraid of what a father can do
to defend the senselessness of
my posture
the questions are alive
the answers need a redemption
i take the side step
write a poem and then sleep
who know?
the answer is nothing but a dream
yes, a dream
something ephemeral
yes, an illusion
something like a mirror
yes, a moment,
something that must pass like the shadow of the moon.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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evasive (EDITED FOR one letter only)
the answers are shy
they have not matured
they always are not
confronting the questions
which keep on roaming like
Nazi soldiers looking
for the kill of the innocent
ones
the answers are arrows
with blunt tips
the questions are the black holes
of our universe
who dares to answer all of them
not me
i see all the questions
and i am but a little boy stupid on the street
looking for mother
and afraid of what a father can do
to defend the senselessness of
my posture
the questions are alive
the answers need a redemption
i take the side step
write a poem and then sleep
who knows?
the answer is nothing but a dream
yes, a dream
something ephemeral
yes, an illusion
something like a mirror
yes, a moment,
something that must pass like the shadow of the moon.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For Mel (villanelle)
The one who should have lived has gone so fast.
The old ones, in their dotage, linger on –
they, with no future, live only in the past.
And we who can but sit, dumb and aghast,
scarcely believe that while the sun still shone
the one who should have lived has gone so fast.
Six decades older, surviving to their last
few days or years, together but alone,
they, with no future, live only in the past.
At least she kept on living to the last,
but should have had a future. She has none.
The one who should have lived has gone so fast,
and they, for whom so many years have passed,
are unaware that one they loved is gone.
They, with no future, live only in the past,
mark time until the final trumpet blast,
and never know the respite they have won.
The one who should have lived has gone so fast.
They, with no future, live only in the past.
poem by Paul Hansford
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No one knows toward what center human things are going to gravitate in the near future, and hence the life of the world has become scandalously provisional. Everything that today is done in public and in private — even in one's inner conscience — is provisional, the only exception being certain portions of certain sciences. He will be a wise man who puts no trust in all that is proclaimed, upheld, essayed, and lauded at the present day. All that will disappear as quickly as it came. All of it, from the mania for physical sports (the mania, not the sports themselves) to political violence; from "new art" to sun-baths at idiotic fashionable watering-places. Nothing of all that has any roots; it is all pure invention, in the bad sense of the word, which makes it equivalent to fickle caprice. It is not a creation based on the solid substratum of life; it is not a genuine impulse or need. In a word, from the point of view of life it is false. We are in presence of the contradiction of a style of living which cultivates sincerity and is at the same time a fraud. There is truth only in an existence which feels its acts as irrevocably necessary.
quote by Jose Ortega y Gasset
Submitted by anonym
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Features of the Future
I'm closer to the future
Than I was yesterday.
The highway of the future
Is in each break of day.
I frame my future
By the decisions I make.
I encounter the future
If diligent steps I take.
Plans for the future
I made in the past.
Today I face the future
Yet it won't last.
Depending on the future
Is so inefficient.
Because the so-called future
Is vague and transcient!
'you'll live well in the future
if the present is well lived! ! '
poem by Robert Reuben
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