#existence poems on Hello Poetry

Jeff Bresee Feb 16

How vast is the reach of the universe wide?
How great be the distance between mind and eyes?
How far in both ways does the length of time go?
What distance exists between God and each soul?

Illusive the answer to each of these be.
Perspective controls how we think, what we see,
how we judge and interpret the concepts at hand,
the things we consider and just where we stand.

We all live in bubbles of what we believe.
We think we see what everybody else sees.
But that which we see at the end of the day
is through a glass, darkly, yeah just like they say,
and someday we’re all in for quite a surprise…
when we learn the distance between mind and eyes.

1 Corinthians 13: 10-12

#truth #existence #god

JohnDuffyASY Feb 11

Are we all mysteriously Sinful?

(A lone voice whispers)

In the beginning

Did you secretly
Walk like a curious
Enigmatic Charles Darwin

Looking
Whilst
Lost in Youth

Seeking The Meaning of Sin

To clandestine dark places where

Angels
Without harps

Profusely lambast and
Sing

Searching
Through concealed ancient manuscript and treatises

Seduced by Mistresses and Masters

Of Seductions

By their ever-changing winds
And rhymes

And now
Are you still covertly
Only understood

By a select few

Riding your Pale Horse
Tempestuously

Through lost
Biographies of Old Beliefs

Always on the lookout for engagements

A means to sometimes
Circumvent dark
Carnal release

Or are you still drinking Cool-Aid

From the Matrix’s ever spinning
Propaganda's machine

As the Cosmic Serpent
Of your own Apocalypse

Approaches with such devious guile

Heralding a new divine invasion

Of your own United Nations

So you still dwell in
A new vision of Gilgamesh

Wallowing in previous dark memories of
Sins

Of old encounters and embraces

Of its sensuous
Flesh

Or are you a new lost Nikola Tesla

Lost in the folds of deep personal histories

Overwhelmed
With impropriety and greed

Still seemingly held in check

By fingerprints of
Memories Old Gods

But still always courageously

Praying silently to the skies

Trying to save
Your soul

Always praying someone
Hears you and your deeds and comes down

To intercede

Copyright John Duffy

#existence

James Ronald Moon III Feb 11

The voyage

"Existence is an ocean."

The body is a vessel, this life is a sea.

God brings the winds that fill its sails,

But it's captain is only me.

Other ships may come and fire against us

My crew may plot a mutiny,

If succeed they do, and if I lose

My ship goes down with me.

No one else will tell me how,

Or why, or what, or when.

Till the sea swallows us up,

And it's waters birth us anew.

Till I say good bye, the final time,

And sail those seas again.

I wrote this in 2015, it is one of my first poems. Here is the foreword.

We as human beings are in control of our minds and especially our destination on the voyage of existence. They can fire cannons against you, strip away your flesh, break you down, but nobody can take away who you are(your souls identity, your consciousness) because that is beyond the physical world and their reach. You cannot measure or catalog someones thoughts, you can measure the electrical activity of the brain itself, but you cant measure the content of what the electrical activity is producing. So I believe when we are swallowed up by the end of what we think is existing, the universe(ocean) absorbs our conscious existence back into itself and recycles that energy(our souls) back out again

#existence #ocean #voyage #life

Red Vigor Feb 7

On existing

In my collared shirt of yore
stripes of ordinary time
I sip the fish of lack of malice aforethought of others
With every stride I lay siege on the darkness
A dulce de leche, a smile, a chat
To believe in something again
Some say that's brave

On a bad day I wrote this

#purpose #existence

Antonia Feb 6

Untitled

I think therefore I’m tired all the time…

#thinking #tired #people #life #existence

Mina Feb 4

Me

Who are you?
I shout to her from distance.
only to hear my echoes back.
maybe you're nonexistent.
Or is it me who can't see?
The noise never fades.
And I cannot set myself free.

I march through the marsh.
with the mire clinging between my feet.
The voice calls like a ripple.
Vibrating through the trees.
and the more I try to silence it.
The louder it screams at me.

I see her again - far away.
"Who are you?"
I shout from my place.
she responds back "Who are you?" just to fade again

the noise won't seem to stop.
and my feet ache from running.
I'll get myself together to turn off the yelling.
but we just meet again.
is my faith sealed around this i mumble to myself.

Who are you?
she shouts from a distance.
"Who are you" i question her back.

I don't like this place nor do i understand her.
should I just stand here and the noise will make me move again?
or should I move fearing the dark?

I sit with myself mumbling these thoughts making an annoying noise.
Then i see her one more time running through the trees.
Coming to me.
with a face annoyed and not pleased.
she shouts with her voice diseased.
"Who are you?"
do i even know the answer to the question?
perhaps, do I know me?
I just hate her, and don't wanna hear her.
she mumbles annoying noise while thinking to herself.
she's mad and doesn't wanna forgive herself.
she is just hearing her echoes!
do i give up on the noise?

Who are you?
I scream through the thick air with doubt.
“Who are you?” she question back,
But this time, the response shakes in my mouth.
She’s no stranger i know her face,
She’s the noise I’ve been trying to chase.
I run in disbelief
yet she stays in place
I remember, she’s me.
The noise never leaves, but neither will she.

I'm just trying to understand myself.

#voices #noise #existence

Kate Feb 3

To Have Been Born A Woman

My only crime was to have been born a woman.
a crime with no trial, no verdict, just sentence.
The world does not break us all at once;
it whittles, peels, pares us down
until we fit the hollow it has carved.

They say we are too much.
Too loud, too soft, too sharp, too small.
A contradiction they built,
then condemned for its shape.

We fold ourselves into corners,
tuck our rage beneath our tongues,
wrap our worth in apologies
and call it survival.
That is not living— it is simply existing.

But we are not ghosts.
Not echoes of something lesser.
We are steel spun fine,
fire woven into silk—
soft does not mean breakable.

We are here.
We have always been here.

And we are not leaving quietly.

#women #femininity #change #existence

owls at dawn Feb 2

three penises

I woke from a dream this morning
with three penises
and three sets of testicles
sprouting from my groin

I was astonished
wondering about the implications
could they all perform?
could I have *** with three women?
or three men?
which gender did these penises prefer?
and how would that work?

or would I be too embarrassed by this mutation to ever have *** again?
I imagined a hand touching down there and felt
extreme embarrassment
no, this was definitely the end of my *** life
I would never have *** again

then something shifted
in my mind
and I woke
from THAT dream
original factory settings restored (I checked)

relieved (so relieved)

this was one problem the universe had not thrown in my lap (haha)
I can still see those tiny peckers though
like a bouquet of newborn masculinity

what high jinks
are going on
at the bottom of the ocean in my brain?

#camus #absurdity #gender #dream #reality #existence

ceilingswirlslikestars Feb 2

tumblr poetry 2

"i don't suppose anyone here knows how to exist" i say, calling into the endless void full of voices, where the loud is so real and intertwined with my own heartbeat it sounds like silence.

#existence