The Garden of Questions
Begetting burdensome outcomes,
Remember quiet qualms clad in benumbed bandage.
Let the clandestine rejoinders boil on a heyday of blossoms;
Let them rise in a fiery fury in thunder of rage.
And then,
While the silky lens of molten music
Refracts the colours of life in trance,
The muses distil the soul; remove the chains of heart,
Empower and lead the dance.
Now your memory renders the train of events.
Look:
A poet is strolling slowly
Through the garden of questions that are hidden
Under the viscous veil of answers.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Related quotes
Strolling down memory lane
Strolling down memory lane
Where the colors begin to fade.
Strolling down memory lane
Is where I want you to come along.
Strolling down memory lane
is a test of time and mind.
Strolling down memory lane
I won’t be afraid.
Strolling down memory lane
Is not lacking in color.
Strolling down memory lane
Is not a big bummer.
Strolling down memory lane
Not a storm in sight
Strolling down memory lane
is joy without bite.
A memory that I have created in my mind,
Stands the test of time.
Memories are like dream, a reflection of the past.
My memories can kiss my…
Ask me no questions I will tell you no lies.
poem by Taran Burke
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Why Do I
why do I think of him all day long
why cant I get him off my mind
why do I wait all day for a five minute call
why do I count the days since I have seen him
why when I close my eyes I see him
why do I dream of his incredible kiss
why do I still feel his fiery touch
why dose my heart stop every time he takes his shirt off
why do butterfly's invade my stomach every time he smiles at me
why dose his laughter shoot a lightening bolt into my soul
why dose his voice sound like magical music to my ears
how dose he make me feel like I'm the most beautiful women in the world
why do I feel free like wild mistletoe making a bridge over a rushing river to a meadow of roses when I'm with him
why do I take him back even after I said I wouldn’t
how dose he still my heart away
how did he still my heart away
why do I question if I'm worth him
why do I down my self if he doesn’t call
why do I doubt if he likes me or not
how dose he make me feel pretty when I'm with him
why do I feel content when I'm with him
why did I not feel guilty for kissing him
why do I like him
why do I trust him
why do I wont to do things with him so badly that it feels like someone is playing hot potato with fire balls in my stomach
why is it that every time he touches me I feel like where he touches me is on fire
why dose his kiss make me feel like I’m floating on the clouds and sliding on rainbows
why do I dream of him when I sleep
why do I wake up and feel him
why do I want to spend all my time with him
why do I want to give him all I can
why would I sacrifice my life for his happiness
why would I give almost anything to see him to touch his unbelievably sexy body to kiss his fiery more experienced lips and to be one with him
whatever the answers are to the questions I have
I’ll find them one day
everyone one day will find out all the answers
to all the questions
they have in there life
the answers I find will lead to more questions
and more answers
but one day I will have no more questions
so I will not have to ask
why do I...
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Remembering the future
The Greeks said, those great Muses
who civilise us, grace our dance of life,
were once, before they were nine,
just three; and before that,
only one was named: and she was, Memory.
Does that make poets just regurgitators
of what’s already been oft said -
and better, too, some would aver…?
No, it’s more subtle than that; ask a poet:
a poem that comes warm, hot, from the human heart
demands a summary birth; won’t hang around
while you go out to buy more toys and frills
to hang around the cot…
it is indeed, more like remembering:
as if you step into a timeless place
where all that’s needful is to remember
what the future poem shall, will, have said..
write it down; and maybe sleep on it;
when you wake, you may remember
two lines somewhere which you’d forgotten,
but know exactly where that is…
That Muse of memory will then decide
whether a poem that has a timeless birth,
may have a timeless life... or not...
How can a poet claim a poem as his, or hers,
when such a Muse? and yet, so close at hand?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Search Out Answers
woe to those with questions
in their souls who do not
soul search out their answers
because they do not
will not read the word
reason distil wisdom out
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Poetic Emotion.
The heart's throb makes the music: words are air,
A mortal breath, if no emotion thrills
The subtle syllables; and all men own
The poesy, the passion, and the power
When that the Poet's fiery fingers touch
The lyre immortal. 'Tis from him alone
The accents of life's mystery are heard,
As the harmonious numbers take the soul
And the unearthy in us answers him.
poem by Robert Crawford
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Music of the heart
Sometimes people events simply take their toil
We tire, get angry, and our blood can boil
The world tries hard to knock it out of you
But we need to keep faith and stay true
Listen to your heart soul, feel the music within
Feel share the music and its song it does sing
When others try to drag you in that bottomless hole
Stay true to your inner music and remain whole
Follow your heart soul’s tune to keep to the path
Don’t silence your music with anger and wrath
The earths music of life constantly us surrounds
Its rhythm beat is there, stop, listen to its sounds
Listen to your souls heart’s song its always near
Drink in the earth’s music, there’s nothing to fear
Don’t let others drown your music though they try
Stay true to your song, keep your music in the sky
Quiet Man
Quiet man of the Moors
Against the bricks of revocation
Invasion
When the mind is disturbed
When quiet is torn
Burning man of the soul
We die slowly when sold
Color is grand life
Shut your door
Keep the world out
Open your window
Let the garden in
Regain the deep serene joy
Quiet man of the heart
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Music 1
to me music is a chance
to escape every-day trance
to me music is a blanket
something to shelter me when
times are tough
to me music is an endless row
of doors the chance to escape
common life bores
but most of all music is a bandage
to help heal every day sores
poem by Daniel Madden
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The DanCe
Sitting on a shady hill, a trunk that kissed the ground,
Leaves in glimmery green, wild flowers scents mixes air in profound,
Clouds smoothly moving, the sky turning blue
And trace of the moon is still on cue...
Birds chirping, echoes of water falls is drifting
The DANCE echoed from the hidden speakers, soothing,
Sudden navigation of thoughts flashes back
As rhythm of the DANCe leaves a trance of the past...
A place like this away from the busy commotion of the streets
The first time I laid my feet, felt the happiness, I danced with grace.
As the man turned the stereo on, the DANCe filled the air,
Lifted my spirit to unexplainable joy, I flipped and swayed....
The DANCe of life I had for four years now
Tiring but rewarding of the fulfillment it brings,
Though hurtful events tattood in my heart and mind,
Looking back, it made me a better person and I'm greatful with that.
Now, I still have the DANCe laid on air
Still working out to learn from it and prepare,
My future, I may not know what lies ahead
Yet I am sure, I will DANCe, follow it's rhythm as it flows thru the air....
And as I close my eyes, I see the sun slowly sets
A bonfire slowly lit the place, the DANCe still has it's trace,
I stood, feeling the beat...opening my arms, wrapping on mine
Dancing in it's beat...waiting for the DANCe to cease...
Many dances I have shared with
Even dances with wolves, I have made,
Slow-fast, sensual-rock, salsa-tango-samba, name it I can
But one DANCe is missing which my heart screams....
The DANCe in solemn peace...soul that scream and weep...
Inner peace, inner DANCe of hope and faith...
And from HIS place, one day,
I would have the DANCe I long to have...
poem by InNer WhisPers
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I Believe in Muses
Nine to the Universe, the Nine Divine
I believe in Muses, Inspire me to dream sublime
Empress Omega, Betty Shabazz, Nzinga all of the Queens
I believe in Muses, Inspire me to achieve impossible dreams
Your sepia back, so strong and beautiful as obsidian
I believe in Muses, Inspire me to search where truth is hidden
Thighs, eyes, hips and lips, I desire you body and soul
I believe in Muses, Inspire me to an orgasmic loss of self control
Your beauty has inspired men to create, to build, to rise
I believe in Muses, Inspire me to be a King in your eyes
poem by Vince Rogers
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Poem about Poetry - what is not poetry
writing lines
not like a child
writing lines
robotlike
hitting at keys
rather than own heart
writing lines
throwing words
which are yet
our friends
words picked
from thesaurus
dictionaries
for word's sake
an alley of prostitutes
we treat as our wives
godless
writing as if
the world
possesses
no soul and
god, the real poet
who spares symbols
for his creation
trees, lightning,
thunder
for poets
to colour their world
to see the other side
of the world
how the trees, lightning
thunder
are a part of men
themselves
described,
the trees - spring of youth
lightning - rage
thunder - warning
the warming effect
god's verse to men's uncaring verse
misinterpretation of his symbols
god the leading poet
the world a repository of symbols
for his masterpiece
a masterpiece
we could only admire
the real poet leaves us
something to ponder about
and to add a verse or two
to his work
like the almighty poet
who when he likes
answers us back
in riddles
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Man In Chains
Ive only myself to blame,
Now that Im tangled up in chains,
So you say, ooh, so you say
Caught in this human cage,
Trapped, and Im fired up with rage
And somebodys got to pay
I can never talk about it,
I can never say what I want to say
So Ill take your tip and Ill bite my lip
And hope it goes away
You say Im a man of straw
Well, baby, Im gonna break your law
Then its war, ooh, yes its war
Love on a thin white line,
Love that was just a waste of time,
Oh, not anymore
I can feel it coming at me,
I can feel it coming like the wind
But, Im locked away and Im bound to stay,
So no one can get in
Im a man in chains, Im a man in chains
Oh, Im a man in chains, Im a man in chains
I only pray that before I die,
Just like a phoenix I will rise and fly
Tell me whos to blame,
Oh, Im a man, now Im a man in chains
There must be a reason why
Youre pulling the wool down on my eyes
Its a lie, its a lie
Dragging this ball and chain,
Oh, how long can I take this pain?
But somebody has to try, yeah
Oh, I can feel the pressure on me,
I can feel it taking me from the start
Sticks and stones will smash my bones,
But never break my heart
Im a man in chains, Im a man in chains
Oh, Im a man in chains, Im a man in chains
I only pray that before I die,
Just like a phoenix I will rise and fly
Tell me whos to blame,
Oh, Im a man, now Im a man in chains
I can never talk about it,
Oh, I can never say what I want to say
So Ill take your tip and Ill bite my lip
And hope it goes away
Im a man in chains, Im a man in chains
Oh, Im a man in chains, Im a man in chains
I only pray that before I die,
Just like a phoenix I will rise and fly
Tell me whos to blame,
Oh, Im a man, now Im a man in chains
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Devotional
Well I'm blowing smoke out of your window
And you're slipping back into your dress
You know you were always such a lady
I've always been impressed
But gentlemen
They don't ask questions
Just keep quiet
She'll pay attention
Gentlemen don't ask questions
We could pay attention
I said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Well I pictured you in blue
But I have to say I'm more partial to the red
Deep, dark, and devastating
Leaving no question as to where you've been
I calm the crowd by keeping quiet
Move like a shadow up to your matress
Gentlemen don't ask questions
We could pay attention
Do you think he'd be better ('Cause we're down for competition)
Doing what I do best?
Do you think he'd be better (This could all be on purpose)
Doing what I do best?
I said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Do you think he'd be better
Doing what I do best?
Do you think he'd be better
Doing what I do best?
Do you think he'd be better ('Cause we're down for competition)
Doing what I do best?
Do you think he'd be better (This could all be on purpose)
Doing what I do best?
I said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers."
Said, "I'm gonna have myself in shambles
Before your folks are up and looking for some answers.
song performed by by Taking Back Sunday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Music
Music is an art
Music is presided over by the Muses
Music combines sounds in a pleasing way
Music has common elements.
Music has pitch and melody
Music has harmony and rhythm
Music has tempo and meter
Music has sonic qualities of timbre.
Music is euphony or sweet sound
Music has harmonious qualities
Music is inspirational
Music opens the soul.
Music is energizing
Music is enriching
Music makes one happy
Music is relaxing.
Music is soothing
Music is entertainment
Music is lovable
Music is stirring.
Music moves one to tears
Music gives a spark
Music tunes a special memory
Music is a form of therapy.
Music fills with spiritual attunement
Music is a personal experience
Music takes us along the road of life
Music is the corner stone of every society.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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She sleeps
She sleeps
~
She sleeps
her heart, soul at peace
she is as beautiful
as any painting by any artist
no brush has born such beauty
silence fills the walls
and the day is calm
my thoughts like trees
take deep roots
into the earth of my soul
unmoveable
mountains, stars and the sky
rise into an endless expanse
I wonder on her dreams
what places she sees
the weather and colours
the faces and events
unfolding
she sleeps
and I
I am moved
by her quiet beauty
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Dance with Me in The Key of Life
Holding the strings of vibes
We move to dance of life
When I look I see your essence
In space now empty
Quiet where the shout of whisper
Voice unheard in heart beats
Come here and dance
Hear the song of my mind
Dance to my beat in life
Let me hold you close to me
I feel my song is you
I want to sing you play to you
My beautiful song you be
Let me turn you
In step with my life
Move with me to music of life
Dance to pain of life
To joy of reality
The song for us to dance
Your moans of pleasure
Move me to love you
I now want to dance with you
Our finger touch our lip meet
Kissing to beats of jazz before
The blue come down on my soul
On I am coming to be true
To need what you be for me
Let just dance to our song
What the matter I’m the same as
Before your beats is my beat
Come dance with me come need me
I wait for you to know
I am for you only
Dance come dance your story with me
Move to life up and down
Dance with me I need you to dance
The dance of life in song of love
poem by George Jerone Jefferson
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I Will Walk With You
Cover your heart, put on your mask
Dance with me slowly, is all that I ask
What is the hardest, falling or not
Knowing just where to begin or start
I will walk, I will walk, with you
I will walk with you
Lay down beside me, tell me your dreams
The view from inside is not what it seems
But no one will hurt you, not like before
Your last thread of forgiveness wont reach the door, noooo
I will walk, I will walk, with you
I will walk with you
I will walk, I will walk, with you
I will walk with you
I will walk, I walk with you
Pull up the curtains
Watch the night fall
Who has the answers when nobody calls
Now rely on fury, blame the sun rise last
Cause I was in love with you, but I cant change the past
I will walk, I will walk with you
I will walk with you (with you)
I will walk, I will walk with you
I will walk with you
song performed by by Sheryl Crow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walls Upon Love
Hidden by walls
Hidden from fear, quiet beats quiet yells!
Beats like betrayal, beats like confusion! Back and forth inside my head.
It wonders and wonders and finally opens.
You laugh and say no words no thoughts no kindness comes out! Questions and questions no answers at all. Lie after lie bring the walls up! Water fluids burns like acid rain! Beats slower and slower hoping to die! Three words that can kill a soul in sight. Words that are wishes that are in beats of time. Three words that are words with no emotion at all. You swear and swear those words arE all mine, for in a second you turn and yell and swear to the men whom my beats wish to be at times. Hoping and hoping to kill every beat that beats your name a thousand times.
poem by Kimberly Picazo
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A Few Last Questions
Dancing alone is an art
perfected in a dim lit room.
The bottled air inoculates against
intimacy and intoxicated memory
confuses the day before and after.
Lovesick in the bathroom
the women go home without
tears or complaints.
Except the last one who
burns inside, red and molten
as you plunge headlong
into one last chance, one last dance.
The machine sucks at your blood.
Keeps you alive and does not cry
or lean over to caress your face.
While you sleep I light a cigarette
and try to take your place.
There are questions to ask,
a few last questions
-are there signs?
Can you hear the hammer click?
Is it bright, lonely, slow, quick?
Are there spirits dancing in the room
or do you dance alone?
poem by Ronald Shields
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Polka Dots And Moon Beams
(BurkeVan Heusen)
A country dance was being held in a garden. I felt a bump and heard an "Oh, beg you pardon."
Suddenly I saw polka dots and moonbeams all around a pug-nosed dream.
The music started and was I the perplexed one.
I held my breath and said "May I have the next one?"
In my frightened arms, polka dots and moonbeams sparkled on a pug-nosed dream.
There were questions in the eyes of other dancers as we floated over the floor.
There were questions but my heart knew all the answers and perhaps a few things more.
Now in a cottage made of lilacs and laughter, I know the meaning of the words "ever after."
And I'll always see polka dots and moonbeams when I kiss my pug-nosed dream.
There were questions in the eyes of other dancers as we floated over the floor.
There were questions but my heart knew all the answers and perhaps a few things more.
Now in a cottage made of lilacs and laughter, I know the meaning of the words "ever after."
And I'll always see polka dots and moonbeams when I kiss my pug-nosed dream,
when I kiss my pug-nosed dream.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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