Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"inquisitiveness" poems
my younger sister never allowed fun to limit her imagination. at a mere five years old, she decided she wanted to become an ice cream truck driver at six, she wanted to save the world. seven, she wanted world peace. eight, world peace. nine, world peace. ten, love. eleven, a boyfriend. twelve years, nine months and three days, lighter skin. i remember her questioning days in pre-school what color am i? she’d ask. and her inquisitiveness never allowed black to be accepted as a proper answer. Ruthie, we share the same color but not the same complexion. too much melanin, not enough skin. the people in your pigment are waiting for a prayer to be prayed back to the hands that once found power in praying. let not the lashes of historical context blind judgment. they oppressed our kind. feared the golden in your flesh so they bore a color wheel of acceptable shades and suggested brown be bad. she laughs at black jokes, but don't be one. and somewhere between spanish sailboats and slave ships you lost the strength in stride. you let them white-wash your worries and bury your woes in waste. they beat her blue until she bled acceptability, not blackness. But pale isn’t perfect and black isn’t bad. embrace the dirt in your darkness for what could explain the foundation that fertilized your fancy better than you? your people stomped on grounds they called home and sprouted seeds of brown black beautiful babies, you. she questioned God’s existence today. she questioned why her skin tone was the color of disease, but she knows not the shade of ailment. our culture brought freedom to a situation where we could only see ******* I want to tell her to not hate God, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all. that our black is not rooted in shame. that she should not feel ashamed, or silenced, or transparent. I want to tell her to enjoy the diaspora in her Africa. she's thirteen today. Nourish your plateau sister. Find the strength in your coffee, and never ever let the brown in your *** stop dancing.
0
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 5:32 PM UTC
color.
my younger sister never allowed fun to limit her imagination. at a mere five years old, she decided she wanted to become an ice cream truck driver at six, she wanted to save the world. seven, she wanted world peace. eight, world peace. nine, world peace. ten, love. eleven, a boyfriend. twelve years, nine months and three days, lighter skin. i remember her questioning days in pre-school what color am i? she’d ask. and her inquisitiveness never allowed black to be accepted as a proper answer. Ruthie, we share the same color but not the same complexion. too much melanin, not enough skin. the people in your pigment are waiting for a prayer to be prayed back to the hands that once found power in praying. let not the lashes of historical context blind judgment. they oppressed our kind. feared the golden in your flesh so they bore a color wheel of acceptable shades and suggested brown be bad. she laughs at black jokes, but don't be one. and somewhere between spanish sailboats and slave ships you lost the strength in stride. you let them white-wash your worries and bury your woes in waste. they beat her blue until she bled acceptability, not blackness. But pale isn’t perfect and black isn’t bad. embrace the dirt in your darkness for what could explain the foundation that fertilized your fancy better than you? your people stomped on grounds they called home and sprouted seeds of brown black beautiful babies, you. she questioned God’s existence today. she questioned why her skin tone was the color of disease, but she knows not the shade of ailment. our culture brought freedom to a situation where we could only see ******* I want to tell her to not hate God, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all. that our black is not rooted in shame. that she should not feel ashamed, or silenced, or transparent. I want to tell her to enjoy the diaspora in her Africa. she's thirteen today. Nourish your plateau sister. Find the strength in your coffee, and never ever let the brown in your *** stop dancing.
Continue reading...
80
Clogging real life, lost in the Great Barrier Mind. It's attacking, Again. Never seen, Never touched. Yet this affection, Grows stronger. Everyday. Inquisitiveness Of his whereabouts, Appearance, Temperament and His love of religion. Who is he? Descendant? Age? Every detail, Unknown and Unseen. Yet I profusely yearn. Yearning for his bejewelled devotion. Yearning for his inimitable self. Yearning for his yearns for me. That is If it subsists.
0
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 1:49 PM UTC
Yearn
Bring on the media bombardment of personality based self-help groups and get connected to the electricity, eye meditating, colorful journey. A ****** cliche and innuendo   to repress your inquisitiveness. Responsible figures on the Black show; White ***** on the other. © S. Wesley Mcgranor
0
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 5:02 PM UTC
Your Democratic Tradition
And why then, should I not? I am not below most and if nothing else am equal to many here with relevancy to being philosophical while writing poetry. The two may be related and maybe it's just personal preference that I try to separate these but it's not without reason or logic. To write philosophically shouldn't there be few guidelines? Shouldn't thought and inquisitiveness be themselves and without metaphor and emotion? To write poetically, isn't it more about feeling, grace, and beauty without questioning these? I understand things change and definitions separate, disperse, die, and are born which is why I'm going to say that the two ideas of contemplation and beauty are inextricable to a certain extent and I'm open their junction. In the end maybe I'm split on this. Maybe it's contradictory. Maybe I'm wrong and it's due to past circumstances that're relatable only to myself.
0
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 2:10 PM UTC
Sophia En Poetry
*my my, ain't it June?! Juno, why have you given these poor people snowballs?! it's June and my central heating is on, it's close to 10 degrees Celsius, Bavaria is flooded, people embraced Einstein's relativity of the collapse of the = sign using a parabola, forgetting the basic Newtonian: cause & effect - the moment i coupled Socratic abhorrence of moral relativism, i took to dislike relativism kindred of: claustrophobia and agoraphobia... at some point Einstein's relativity equates space as time, rather than what Newton would suggest trans linear: algebraic squared, Newton still resides in cause & effect, space = ~space, given: 1 = millimetre, kilometre, and any other division... likewise with time... 20th century fashion being the perfect crop of quantum plagiarism, although in the 21st century the dance loop jumping between decades, back in the 20th century a linear expression, an evolution; quantum physics doesn't deal with linear excavations necessarily repeated, it's just repeats what is unnecessary. global warming and the mini ice age, June's here, Einstein too, Newton too, relatively speaking we're aether imprints... speaking via causality we're leaving a carbon footprint - well, **** me, two plus two... it's still scientific negativism, dietary requirements of modern man overshadowed all the scientific progresses in the field... never mind the cure for cancer! never mind that! as long as we can dress a diabetic in Lycra for bariatric surgery - never had i had i heard of such gastronomy, should it have been a pork chop smoked using zyklon B.* we are living in the age of scientific negativism, atheism a third limb and our existential concerns reduced to hamsters, calories and treadmills: the basis of all modern inquisitiveness / Aristotelian awe reduced to rubrics of dieticians rather than theologians: at least with the latter we could see the simple mind, hunched in prayer... with the former we are experiencing robots repeating the daily 2000 Kcal intake requirement for a flat stomach... honestly, i prefer the praying type, than the type regurgitating facts concerning their diet - at least the former state of affairs kept them shut up and mumbling, gesticulating a type of shadow boxing while befriending Jacob wrestling with an angel - at least that!
0
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 7:49 PM UTC
modern scientific negativism
*my my, ain't it June?! Juno, why have you given these poor people snowballs?! it's June and my central heating is on, it's close to 10 degrees Celsius, Bavaria is flooded, people embraced Einstein's relativity of the collapse of the = sign using a parabola, forgetting the basic Newtonian: cause & effect - the moment i coupled Socratic abhorrence of moral relativism, i took to dislike relativism kindred of: claustrophobia and agoraphobia... at some point Einstein's relativity equates space as time, rather than what Newton would suggest trans linear: algebraic squared, Newton still resides in cause & effect, space = ~space, given: 1 = millimetre, kilometre, and any other division... likewise with time... 20th century fashion being the perfect crop of quantum plagiarism, although in the 21st century the dance loop jumping between decades, back in the 20th century a linear expression, an evolution; quantum physics doesn't deal with linear excavations necessarily repeated, it's just repeats what is unnecessary. global warming and the mini ice age, June's here, Einstein too, Newton too, relatively speaking we're aether imprints... speaking via causality we're leaving a carbon footprint - well, **** me, two plus two... it's still scientific negativism, dietary requirements of modern man overshadowed all the scientific progresses in the field... never mind the cure for cancer! never mind that! as long as we can dress a diabetic in Lycra for bariatric surgery - never had i had i heard of such gastronomy, should it have been a pork chop smoked using zyklon B.* we are living in the age of scientific negativism, atheism a third limb and our existential concerns reduced to hamsters, calories and treadmills: the basis of all modern inquisitiveness / Aristotelian awe reduced to rubrics of dieticians rather than theologians: at least with the latter we could see the simple mind, hunched in prayer... with the former we are experiencing robots repeating the daily 2000 Kcal intake requirement for a flat stomach... honestly, i prefer the praying type, than the type regurgitating facts concerning their diet - at least the former state of affairs kept them shut up and mumbling, gesticulating a type of shadow boxing while befriending Jacob wrestling with an angel - at least that!
Continue reading...
17
Where does man, where does woman, where does beast go When slumber dawns upon their fleshly vessel? When the twilit sky bleeds into a stygian veil? When the musicality within begins to take psychosomatic form? I reminisce over the eventuality that stirred my burgeoning. It quaked my lucubrations, my excogitations, intellectualizations; Ye, The Incendiary Phoenix Flame billows within. Rebirth awaits every anima forged by The Apotheosis of The Astral Flame. The doughty firebrand in me shalt nought surrender, The Gaian Warrior within shall ne'er be forgotten, And my reverenc'd doubts  shall be undone. O, whence all incredulities have been uttered The Leadings of Lovelight shall prevail. The Vestige that once ravaged my remembrance shall vanish into The Magisterial Tides of Oblivion, We are all one with the Blood-Tinged Oath, The Fulgent Daystar; He, exhaled eternity into the souls vexed by mortality. Underneath the Sun: There breathes an azure vista. What lieth above our aethereal aegis has incited inquisitiveness aeons aforetime Open your hearts to the cosmic currents, the transcendent torrent, The Communal Oneness of The Primal Phantasmagoric; By that One, For all time we were summoned. Question what lie before to be spirited away.   Listen to the arcadian zephyr whisper               Through in, through out your every breath. Trust, the Sanctity of intuition. Coloring the Changing of The Seasons. The aqueous dew throngs upon virescent leaflets, A fulgurant surge fulminates Upon The Celestial’s bedarkened sky. Red- Shift Existence: evidence, upon which a system of belief expands, under examination Therefore, it is our duty to ponder the Legacy of the Sages That we might unravel the esoteric secrets That function as a key In gainsaying, in overturning The Lock of Fallacy. Finally we gain understanding, we acquire wisdom Altering our cognitive trajectory. What is Life, What is Love, What is Divinity, Without creativity? Without imagination? Without vision? We must all surrender to The Sacral Expressions of Omnibenevolence.
0
Jun 27, 2020
Jun 27, 2020 at 6:50 PM UTC
The Gordian Knot (Originally Written on Saturday, June 27th, 2020)
Where does man, where does woman, where does beast go When slumber dawns upon their fleshly vessel? When the twilit sky bleeds into a stygian veil? When the musicality within begins to take psychosomatic form? I reminisce over the eventuality that stirred my burgeoning. It quaked my lucubrations, my excogitations, intellectualizations; Ye, The Incendiary Phoenix Flame billows within. Rebirth awaits every anima forged by The Apotheosis of The Astral Flame. The doughty firebrand in me shalt nought surrender, The Gaian Warrior within shall ne'er be forgotten, And my reverenc'd doubts  shall be undone. O, whence all incredulities have been uttered The Leadings of Lovelight shall prevail. The Vestige that once ravaged my remembrance shall vanish into The Magisterial Tides of Oblivion, We are all one with the Blood-Tinged Oath, The Fulgent Daystar; He, exhaled eternity into the souls vexed by mortality. Underneath the Sun: There breathes an azure vista. What lieth above our aethereal aegis has incited inquisitiveness aeons aforetime Open your hearts to the cosmic currents, the transcendent torrent, The Communal Oneness of The Primal Phantasmagoric; By that One, For all time we were summoned. Question what lie before to be spirited away.   Listen to the arcadian zephyr whisper               Through in, through out your every breath. Trust, the Sanctity of intuition. Coloring the Changing of The Seasons. The aqueous dew throngs upon virescent leaflets, A fulgurant surge fulminates Upon The Celestial’s bedarkened sky. Red- Shift Existence: evidence, upon which a system of belief expands, under examination Therefore, it is our duty to ponder the Legacy of the Sages That we might unravel the esoteric secrets That function as a key In gainsaying, in overturning The Lock of Fallacy. Finally we gain understanding, we acquire wisdom Altering our cognitive trajectory. What is Life, What is Love, What is Divinity, Without creativity? Without imagination? Without vision? We must all surrender to The Sacral Expressions of Omnibenevolence.
Continue reading...
43
Never had I seen such beauty like yours, Such a worthwhile smile that shapes me like a file. Never had I seen such wit as yours, Such a rightful judge to the cruel misrule. Never had I seen such persona, with playfulness, reasonableness, uprightness, and inquisitiveness. Never had I seen perfection, the quintessential condensation of all great characterization, in balance with my imperfection. Yet it is only wise to appreciate you with my eyes, as my body is apprehended by the past, the future, the time, and the agony. The life I've experienced has taught me that love is futile, served with sadness and unhappiness and dolefulness with a side of temporary blissfulness. The idea of success impedes me from obtaining happiness, from settling for ‘less’ and portray a smile nevertheless. Warped by expectation, limitation, and exploitation, time isn't sufficient to provide you with my fixation, affectation, and ministration. Sustainability I cannot devise for when I witness your brown eyes, brown like earth, which with the kiss of rain and the seed of love can allow the flourish of life and euphoria never dreamed of. My heart accelerates uncontrollably, approaching me to a heart attack of which I'm never coming back. I suffocate as you leave me breathless, yet you suppress my stress and hopelessness. I so wish to warm your hand while wrapping around your arm. I so wish to embrace you in my arms and promise you safety for eternity. I so wish to feel your lips and your hips, never letting go until the last grasp of my fingertips. I so wish to stare at the stars to your side, while I admire your eyes, hoping that our love never dies. But being with you is an impossibility, in addition to an atrocity. Separated by time, a history, and personalities, war would form and never end in peace, For my peasantry doesn't deserve your royalty, For my filthiness shan't nudge your pureness, For my darkness can't cohere with your brightness. I'd be put to trial for the exile of your smile, the most intact of the wonders of the world that would now be purled. I wish I could love you but never will I deserve you, Never will we be together, for we would be an incompatible tether. I wish I could be with you but it is true that we are through, Never shall our past be repeated, for it won't be greeted, but rather maltreated. I wish I could but I've understood from our childhood where I stood and where I stand, Never will I know, if I were… with you, know where it would lead to.
0
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 9:52 PM UTC
Never
Never had I seen such beauty like yours, Such a worthwhile smile that shapes me like a file. Never had I seen such wit as yours, Such a rightful judge to the cruel misrule. Never had I seen such persona, with playfulness, reasonableness, uprightness, and inquisitiveness. Never had I seen perfection, the quintessential condensation of all great characterization, in balance with my imperfection. Yet it is only wise to appreciate you with my eyes, as my body is apprehended by the past, the future, the time, and the agony. The life I've experienced has taught me that love is futile, served with sadness and unhappiness and dolefulness with a side of temporary blissfulness. The idea of success impedes me from obtaining happiness, from settling for ‘less’ and portray a smile nevertheless. Warped by expectation, limitation, and exploitation, time isn't sufficient to provide you with my fixation, affectation, and ministration. Sustainability I cannot devise for when I witness your brown eyes, brown like earth, which with the kiss of rain and the seed of love can allow the flourish of life and euphoria never dreamed of. My heart accelerates uncontrollably, approaching me to a heart attack of which I'm never coming back. I suffocate as you leave me breathless, yet you suppress my stress and hopelessness. I so wish to warm your hand while wrapping around your arm. I so wish to embrace you in my arms and promise you safety for eternity. I so wish to feel your lips and your hips, never letting go until the last grasp of my fingertips. I so wish to stare at the stars to your side, while I admire your eyes, hoping that our love never dies. But being with you is an impossibility, in addition to an atrocity. Separated by time, a history, and personalities, war would form and never end in peace, For my peasantry doesn't deserve your royalty, For my filthiness shan't nudge your pureness, For my darkness can't cohere with your brightness. I'd be put to trial for the exile of your smile, the most intact of the wonders of the world that would now be purled. I wish I could love you but never will I deserve you, Never will we be together, for we would be an incompatible tether. I wish I could be with you but it is true that we are through, Never shall our past be repeated, for it won't be greeted, but rather maltreated. I wish I could but I've understood from our childhood where I stood and where I stand, Never will I know, if I were… with you, know where it would lead to.
Continue reading...
29
childhood is a patchwork of innocence and inquisitiveness meticulously sewn over the burning of an oil lamp filled with the warmth of happiness.
0
Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 11:17 AM UTC
Untitled
I feel that spark. That shared inquisitiveness. That desire to see what might be together. It wasn't always this way. I felt what you did not. You were ready for me, but I wasn't even there. Now is the time. It has to be. It feels right. We are finally mutual. Our hearts are in the right place. Our minds can't stop flowing. Except... We can't. We shouldn't. We won't. That's easy to say. But the heart doesn't just want to yield. The time wasn't right then. It's not right now. Which ***** but that is the reality of time. We don't get to choose. How time passes is not up to us. But some days, I wish it were.
0
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 8:29 PM UTC
The Wrong Time
THE BEAUTY OF A WOMAN The beauty of a woman lies IN HER SILENCE rather than her speech.. The beauty of a woman lies IN HER VEIL rather than her face.. The beauty of a woman lies IN HER SUBMISSION rather that her leadership.. The beauty of a woman lies IN HER SMILE rather than her laughter.. The beauty of a woman lies IN HER PATIENCE rather than her inquisitiveness .. The beauty of a woman lies IN HER ABODE rather than her adventure.. The beauty of a woman lies IN HER OFFSPRING rather than herself..
0
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 10:06 AM UTC
The Beauty of a Woman
Surrender Harden yourself Say "I am priceless" and mean it Because nothing could be truer We all wish to be beautiful in the eyes of the beholder On a **** beach Unbiased and open minded Immerse yourself in your own aspects, your assets Understand that in the grand scheme of things you are your own worst critic Being spoon -fed and stigmatized Immeasurable passive-aggressiveness Assert yourself when you're among the persecuting prosecutors in this co-ed world we live in Capitalize on your inquisitiveness and wit Ask more questions You know you haven't got all the answers Use your pheromones to your advantage Trick questions coincide with equivocal answers Are you a runaway train of person hood? Going off the tracks? Going out of your way to be the change you want to see in the world?
0
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 1:43 PM UTC
Breakfast For Dinner
"they" always remember starting early, reading aged 4, writing aged 5, transcripts of encoded spy messages aged 6, but not one of them remembers being aged 4, or turning into a mozart; odd to vainly boast about such early inquisitiveness perfected to a profession, without actually engaging in one; i don't remember when anything happened, i remember that it did happen, and was like a perfect mathematics dressed casual in almost anything equation, like π, extending to fit a circle's geometry with an infinite decimal shopping-list (3.14159... fidgety when approaching the ~∞ encircling like a strapped to a dying-battery clock hand of seconds twitching between some second, 8 or 9)... with an infinite decimal stress of coercion, giving the 2-dimensional representation of communication was always doomed to be strained... strained for paradoxes... man's entire paragraph of excavated knowledge was recorded in two dimensions, not one, not three... the kings of experience levitate in knowledge not being encoded in two dimensions, with silence the vehicle of a loss of conscience, the perfect science, all a matter of α, rather than μ (the mediator), in consecration of relinquished gifts via ω (the realist) of the awaited grave, from erectile phallus to an equally erectile crux.
0
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 8:25 PM UTC
"they"
She wakes up before time And counts her fingers Ready to go Exists through all doors, Joy is what she earns. Her colleague's comfort As they play and associate. Late evening's My ears set to her stories says more than she knows little heart of inquisitiveness She annoys and makes you smile In my hands she slumbers Keeps no memory of the past Bright and beautiful young with courage I dream to see her grow each day My own in separate liking a champion for tomorrow
0
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
little scholar
Railway station waiting room sitting anticipating inspiration Breathing slows as calm descends with a black lace shroud Mystery light and honesty filter through the spaces in between Thoughts float up then disperse on the wind searching for a patch of fresh earth The platform rises up and beckons me to trust instinctively Soon I will be taken from here to find my bodies position in a different place My absence of presence will be noted in the subtle shift A whisper of inquisitiveness will leave it's mark on those who pass by my shadow ghost The past will greet the present like a familiar friend before walking into the future.
0
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 10:21 AM UTC
Gone
I guess you're feeling curious As if it isn't obvious Now I give you a chance to guess What we need to confess I'm guessing you already know who wrote this It isn't something you'll miss But if you don't know, Please think harder, I'm not a foe Firstly, what we want from you isn't just trust It is friendship that won't easily rust For if you knew the truth better, We'll all need this together Colors are essential to the eyes From light, you see the truth that lies Though in a person's heart, If you'll look closely, you'll see a color that defines their art There has been a problem in this generation Something people try to fix through action An impossible mission we can't get through Or could this be really true? Something's coming really soon That's why we should reflect like the moon For even in the dark, Through our source, will we spark Now I don't know how you'll react Once you know everything about the fact Will you know the worth of all this? Or will you just let it miss? Maybe you'll give an effort, maybe not But I know you will, coz you sought So if your curiosity led you to something, Approach me and tell me what you're thinking Now I'm gonna ask you something: Will you accept the challenge even though you know nothing? Your inquisitiveness amazes me, I give you that But remember, curiosity killed the cat. Signed by: The color of courage 14/09/13
0
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 11:15 AM UTC
Clue
incessant selflessness manifested is ignorance opposite its notorious nemesis, selfish, insidious let the latter mask the masses, they are us and we, its masters yes, i was them till i was casted i will not master nor be mastered for voicing inquisitiveness similar to the kin of the sin rumored to have killed the cat let them castigate and excommunicate my mask will decay in the casket till, that is, they let the former; its toxic gasses end times nine lives like mine shunned and inhabitants who slumber under overpasses and would unwaveringly pass on being passive on not going under long before playing roles active in a world so colorfully composed of paint strokes dipped in tin cans consisting of the blood and innocence of shunned masses, the victims of ignorance and its subsequent massacres. asleep in peace at rest with my dignity my pride and all the answers. as are the circumstances of those who will not master nor be mastered. disaster - end
0
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 8:39 PM UTC
desired disaster
A little bit of something I haven't kissed, A little bit of a line I inch closer to Help me chain myself Anchor my soul and body A gradual slow crawl to a halt Rolling eyes at the visual premonition Surely this must be in jest, old feelings emerge and though not mine Niche tastes flap on my tongue Inquisitiveness turns to desire Clamping down on the Beast Time is a cruel mistress, is she not? Yesterday bought stability Now today bought sins to light. eu sunt dracul chuckle
0
Feb 21, 2020
Feb 21, 2020 at 10:32 AM UTC
Temptation - Z
The morning comes at me in sideways, frenzied swirls; urging the heart to beat faster and the pace to quicken. It’s energy dissipates into crystallized coatings of sugar and ice cream, covering a path that is the same yet treacherously deceiving; beckoning to run and frolic like a setter after a leaf. The stride is low and measured with a bounce of flowing possibilities, somehow dismissing the bald, slick mountain orb that holds no one; that holds our existence like glue. Patterns emerge under a delightful artist notion, layers upon layers, textures melding with form, colors yearning to find their own personality; creating itself from a falling idea. Tendrils of fluid, wispy inquisitiveness seek to insert their purpose onto the canvas; like rivers of rolling acrylic from the oversaturated master brush. White and grayish drips making their way to an authentic resting place with delving curiosity and untethered adventure. Cracks, shrieks of cold anguish across the water; or is it chortles of delight at the incessant rage of an unsatisfied bluster? The force is at my back, not to push and mold me but to buffet the noise from the useless chatter; to comfort and warm like a soothing bundle of goose down without a floor.
0
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 10:05 AM UTC
Snow Day
**** journalists < **** truth-seeking avidity, inquisitiveness, open-mindedness, awareness > **** children.
0
Aug 20, 2025
Aug 20, 2025 at 7:44 PM UTC
**** Journalists
I look, yet I'm blind, I hear, but I'm deafened. The radio static in my head is ever so lasting, unfailing. I can rely on my instability, my inquisitiveness turned to doubt. I'm in love, but I can't love. Have I ever learned to love? I've always been loved, adored. When did love become uncomfortable? I'm the happiest I could've been, but I'm blind to everything. My strength is fragile, I can't live like this. I can't live when it's me who turns every drop of golden sunshine, into tar. Why can't I be happy? Where are my screws loose? Have I always been like this? It can't be love that brought this out. Something so pure, could not bring this out. What is it like? To not lead life with fear, paranoia and panic. What is it like? To wake up without sweat, a pounding heart, with a crowded head. What is it like? To love another, and oneself at the same time. What is it like? To not be me, to not live in constant torment.
0
Jul 21, 2020
Jul 21, 2020 at 6:00 AM UTC
I can look, but I can't see
“Cognition” “My imagination comes from Curiosity A curiosity of life and its meaning, An inquisitiveness of sustenance, That of the definition of a subject, As we look in the eyes of another, And adhere to that one’s soul, That special one that will be in your life, The window of their eyes will tell all, That one that is the dearest of treasures, And that the sweetest of pleasures, Euphoria that over run all measures, Felicity sweetness of pursuing curiosity, Happiness lies in the subduing of hearts, Whispered its vows as a tender pawn, To those that are strangers to ardor, Virtue is imaginations strongest defender, Homage and honors in the end fits like a glove, When ones imagination leaps with splendor, Makes my Curiosity barnstorm and leap, To satisfy my imagination with such provender, To that of my Cognition of comprehension” By Andrew Guzaldo 2021 ©
0
Nov 6, 2021
Nov 6, 2021 at 3:38 PM UTC
“COGNITION”