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Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
As wide open as the sea
as resonant as the waves
splashing on the beach.
For a moment or so I was
pondering so full as the sea
what has it left to tally
with as empty as the the beach?
julia rose Aug 2018
oh, rose addicted lips,
cruel and beautiful,
whisper your gentle lies
and ponder;
what do you despise more,
the ache or the release?
.
Shofi Ahmed Aug 2018
Truth is big
it's imminent.
Little is in the know.

I wonder though
what if we knew it a lot
will we not die no more?

Pondering me
ended up on the water.
There was land no more.
Or the colossal ocean
at the end of the earth
is its backdrop who knows?

If this little soil earth
can stand in the midst
of the giant ocean
why can't a life's
bottomless backdrop
billow up when the
momentary death swoop?
(Thus propelling it into its
deathless eternal portion.)
Dawn of Lighten Feb 2017
Dimension beginning of vile ****** exposed,
And the Emperor has no clothes,
While helplessly strut a mighty walk without a shame.

Course of history repeating itself,
Like the flow of water meeting in the river of streams,
But recycle through the clouds and back to the ground it flows.

Are we so blinded by the glimmer of the mirage of oasis in the desert,
We toast with sands of dune to quench our thirst of our plight,
And all is but a fickling light ducktaped by words of unintelligible muddled murmur?

This is truly the flawed design of our time,
When we no longer promote arts and crafts of philosophies,
And religious cults of zealots condemned the science and Academia by berating it's achievement.

Likes of ancient times of Agora and the height of it's human enlightenment,
There are forces of deconstruction of society of choas ensued by hateful fear mongers,
And systematic inward of national fevor of berserkers leveling progress.

Maybe another dark age is inevitable,
But little seed of hope I feel tangible,
And sometimes event maybe a phoenix.
Religion is all sense of purpose is a illumination of hope in human plights,
But those who seek absolute power by controlling devotees, then it is no longer a religions but a cult of designed by vanity.
Josh Nov 2017
Neatly coating the floor in thin white trails, woven into floorboards like cotton twine, sunbeams snake their way across hardwood.

Books scream to be read & my yellowed pages ache to detail my experience as a widowed reader of time.

Magazines pile, while my simple hands grow a day older.

Heat on my neck.

The driver of time exhales grandiose,
tells me to travel while I'm young,
visit regions on this globe that grow green with age,
listen to honest trumpets before I gray,
wade in pools of clear urgency.

He said:

"Find a walking stick out beyond the ether
laugh with veracity, poking fun at Saturn & the Stars."
What will the future hold? Only Time will tell.
Our nights are seldom
sound
More restless  and
unsettled
Our Mind begins to ask
The bigger questions
of life

As a child
carefree
A day lasted
forever

As a youth
so anxious
To grow up

As a young adult
Restless
To be free of
Our parents
Control
to taste life
Through our own
eyes

Middle age
a bit of
fear
Enters our mind
Of what lies
ahead

Reminiscent Of dreams
Unrealized

We ponder
How old age Will
unfold

As our sprit grows
Meek and mild

Restless and wild
Looking through the eyes
Of a child
Walking slower now
Life means more

We prepare for
The next chapter
Of life old age
Life lessons as our gage
How will that play out

Will we live in pain
Lose our mind
Dementia,
slightly off our rocker
insane

How will our life end
In the arms of a loved ,a friend
Will we be ready
Or will we fear

Did we learn  our lessons
To grown in spirit
I know they say
the journey is
As important
as the destination

However will we ever truly
know our purpose
There are no random accidents
Every action has a reaction
And life’s movements
Ever changing
Emotions rearranging

We are not messured
by our good deeds
But by those who remember us
Relationships cultivated with
God greatest gift of
Love
The older I get the deeper my questions of life evolve
ThePoet Nov 2015
There are no limits within a dream
Insanity at its most extreme
Imagination aged the child
It made me strong, it made me wild

I have ocean secrets growing deep
They're mine to ponder, mine to keep
Creativity taught and raised the kid
It gave me hopes in the places I hid
Isaac Sep 2018
The more I ponder my death,
The more attractive it seems.
Trading my last breath,
To enter the world of my dreams.
Waving goodbye to my burdens,
Blowing a kiss to my pains.
Closing shut life's curtains,
To be with my God who reigns.
But looking around, I think
This planet will do me just fine.
There are plenty of things I'd love to do
Before I grow old and resign.
With people and places to explore and know,
So much of me is happy to stay.
But just as much of me is happy to go,
That I know I'll be good either way.
Written 7 August 2018
Najwa Kareem Jan 3
We fed ourselves on New Year's well

Gifts were exchanged over the song The First Noel

The evening before Christmas drinks were had

Many fooling themselves that they are glad

Throughout the cheer, men, women, and children in Yemen forgotten

Leftover turkeys and roasts would be hurriedly eaten even if found rotten

Starvation has Yemeni bodies eating themselves

Have you seen photos of their emaciated figures on newspapers' shelves

Pregnant women and newborn babies with dead husbands and dead fathers

How do they care for themselves when in the grand scheme of things no one bothers

Saudi military should go **** on themselves

Murderous cowards that they are playing with Santa's elves

Women in Yemen being ***** and domestic violence bring me to tears

Would they get away with their satanic work if the U.S. wasn't kissing their filthy rears

Seriously dangerous diseases running rampant

Yemenis beautiful skin no longer so lambent

So few of us care enough to choke up for our Ahmeds and for our Imans

I ask infuriatingly will it take a whole country's destruction to rise for Yemen's Marwans
Ethan Jan 2
The flames come up, engulfing everything in sight.
Eating, feasting even, everything now with blight.
It’s hard to watch, yet too entrancing to me, I can’t put up a fight.
For the fire causes many to experience true plight.
It’s interesting to watch videos or look at wildfires, but then you get to thinking... How many people have suffered from this catastrophe while I just sit here and watch from a phone? Where do these people go? Who helps them? They experience true trauma, while you are in comfort. Quite peculiar in my mind...
Keiya Tasire Jul 9
May you find
peace, harmony
love and joy.
Stay close with pondering
meditation and prayer.
Remain teachable.

Let go of pride
seeking riches
fame, power and control.
Let go of negativity.

With wisdom
Grow through failings
That you be not ensnared.

Choose the higher path.
Love. Forgive.  
Be Forgiveness.

Remain strong
Never give up
Never loose hope.

Seek a full life
In service
of the highest good
For all.

Share Love.
Receive Love.
Give of yourself freely
in service to others.
If you do
You will find great joy.

Stay connected
To the Spirit.

Stay true
To your Heart's Song.

So in Life, as in Death
You will be always preserved.

Fulfill  
The measure
Of your creation
With Joy.
A poem prayer I wrote to myself during a difficult time in my life.  May peace and joy always be with you.
sara Jun 2018
Oh, to be a poet
one must be so emotional.
Well, no. Not necessarily.
We're only really capable
of understanding feeling,
investigating our emotions.
It doesn't mean we cry all day,
or pass nights in dark rooms moping.

We have lives; come home from work
or get in on a night bus back;
it's from all this experience
that we can draw out fact.
From mundane to extraordinary
we will become inspired.
Our strength is versatility
and life ignights our fires.

So, we do not all have to be
constricted to intensity
-to ponder oh-so seriously
on what it simply means 'to be'.
We can be strong, flirty, or mean
or to the brim with confidence.
For, what does 'to be a poet' mean,
if you cannot explore yourself?
'Our strength is versatility' is something I feel is very important and sometimes forgotten among stereotypes of what poetry should be about
Bryan Lunsford Apr 2018
My brain bleeds and the ceiling drips,
As you couldn't believe how much fun doing acid actually is,
With the walls that breathe–I see things that don't even exist,
Where I'm pondering deeply over and over, I ponder this,
Is this reality that I see real or is it all a complete myth,
And what else will I see if I take just a couple more hits?
First day,
I wept,
For I didn’t understand what was wrong

Second day,
I wept again,
For not understanding my own self.

Third day,
I was numb,
And it didn’t matter if I was wrong anymore.

Fourth day,
I stopped,
My thoughts for it was not worth it to ponder.

Fifth day,
I got up,
With courage I did not realise that I even had.

Sixth day,
I walked out,
Of the cage that i built in my mind.
Daniel Quigley Nov 2017
By the sill sit still;
Listen to water wash the roof
in specks and sheets, a symphony
so complete to hush you quiet,
Even still.

An inundation.
This libation to parched earth has
been a meditation since birth;
to ponder under the pitter-patter
hiss and swish of exponential scales
At the wrongness of raindrops in a sunbeam.

Sit still, brood like the clouds that came
to darken a June day, so silent they gathered
over a land hard with memory,
With fear for passing years and
worries that grew like weeds in summer showers.

Brief as thought these drops like jewels
are set ablaze then strike the dirt; done.
They flash for an instant in time,
with no way back to an azure sky.

There is no telling the distance,
How high these clouds climb.
Just the sound of falling rain,
Listen.
Cné Apr 2017
the club is not the place to be
so the bar is where you'll find me
with my girlfriend doing shots
scanning the room and catching nods

your eyes hang in the smoky air
come on over, if you dare
trust me, I'll give you a chance
surely you see that, in my glance

my friend and I are laughing like girls do
my magnetic eyes push and pull at you
starring, you haven't looked away
I can see the interest, you convey

another shot the bartender places
confused, he gestures and your glass raises
I smile as my girlfriend whispers, he's cute
toasting you, we lift our shots and shoot

I won't beg you to on come over
but it's only wasting time until you come closer
the possibilities, I foresee
I'm already in love with your body

in confidence, over you saunder
in my mind the question, I ponder
obviously I see, you're in to me
but what about my friend... are you into three?
Just thinking out loud. Lol
I was born with joy and tears,
Then grow with hardship
and live with soreness
I’ve seen things
A lot of things
Good stuff
Bad stuff
All of them concurrently with reality

There’s this silk-stocking kid in her marvelous chamber
Not knowing what to do next in life
There’s this low-lived kid in the street
Soaking deeply in his thoughts

I don’t know what I want
After seeing things
The meaning of being happy
The meaning of being ill
What I know is I don’t really know
Many times, I sit and ponder
Thinking about the useless youth
And how filthy this world have been
To those of no talents and powers
It is no secrecy that we’re all in grief

I am in grief
But I also lucky for something
Perhaps I have a chance and
I believe i’m blessed for something.
PoserPersona Sep 2018
A confident man feels not a need to speak
on all things with which he does not agree
Though in the proper time and place
he is not afraid to assert his way

And though his words at times cause spurn,
he will admit when they are out of turn
Fearing not the inevitable mistake,
but rather owning it too late

Caring and feeling without hesitation
and not for reciprocal adulation
Emotions are expressed appropriately;
either subtlety or rationally

As honest with others as with himself;
recognizing what he does and doesn’t do well
Claiming to know what he does know
and asks when he don’t

Pursuing tasks for their benefit and or joy
rather than status or fleeting ploys
Those latter things are often great fun,
but worry of them yields none

While in his mind there is good thinking,
he is more occupied with good acting
In order to have concerns of the ideological,
requires labors that are practical

On his confidence, he does not ponder,
as neither he or anyone wonders
of whether he truly possesses it.
We know it.
In creature comforts of the West; I ponder.
     As my heart strays eastward.
           My star in the East?

"If there be a God..."
       He must be capable of entering men's hearts,
             they in turn bear witness to human suffering.

If this is so.
    How can our brothers in Syria be suffering?
             Why have they been forsaken?

"If there be a God?"
       If there be a God.
           If there be a God.
                              Allah?
Could it be possible to be like Joseph? Could a man's mind from the West inspire those disenfranchised in the East to stop the struggle and join in the solution that ends all suffering for all brothers? Is that possible?
Traveler Oct 2013
So familiar these roads I travel
But where does reason lead
Now concrete which once was gravel
That's all that remains of my beliefs...

The mysterious remains as is
A ghost of a chance I may be right
There's more to ponder obsessively
Upon my bed late at night...
Use more then once

Traveler Tim
re to 03-19
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Sitting in Circular Quay in a bistro on a warm winters day
dreaming while watching the tourists and ships sail by.
As I eat oysters and drink the day in with my wine,
past memories wash over me.

Morning teas, chats, and paper bark trees,
hikes through the bush and walks along the beach.
Watching dolphins play at dawn
and fishing the waters on New South Wales shores.

The Harbor Bridge alight with Bicentennial Fireworks;
a surreal beginning to this adventure.
Wringing every drop from days spent,
finding a new world with each step.

Discovering myself through the wisdom and eyes of you,
maturing, becoming my own.
Like family, you’ve been both mentor and friend,
carrying me through fire and back.

My life was undone as I first saw your shore.
Feeling my heart would break
with our first goodbyes,
unknowing that an permanent bond had been forged.

Tracing back over the years since we met,
I’ve been given more than my share.
Making me ponder how I have been blessed,
to count you as a true friend.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Bel B Apr 2018
It was effortlessly beautiful that night,
shining the brightest amongst all.
I've never seen it glowing radiantly,
such exquisite sight is rarely seen.
I ponder upon the beauty,
unlike any other day
where it was just a crescent
and sometimes faded.


It reminded me of someone,
someone whom I've lost
while i was busy searching for the star.
elaine Jul 2018
It feels as if I’m drowning. I can’t see up out of the water, and I’m to frightened to see what this place holds below. I can hear nothing but mumbled shouts and prayers. But no one listens in a place like this.

It is not peaceful being trapped underwater. You are left with the choice of letting go, and floating all the way up into the never-ending abyss. But you stay still, holding your breath while the demons in your head decide to come out and play. You often ponder whether or not you should have just ended it before it all went downhill.

The world would still be the same disfigured mess, but the only difference would be one less drowning soul trapped in a cage. Unable to escape. Unable to dream of a place outside this  hell.

We are trapped. Afraid and damaged. All sitting still holding our breath, waiting for a sweet release into open airs. Waiting for a thing never to come.
UA Mar 16
Into the jungle
Out of the fire
Running in dungeons
No wonder I'm tired
Lacking a motive
Is breathing a value
My gloom's implosive
A contagious vacuum.
Is that a chest
Should I give it stress
I just want to rest
But looting is best
Now I've gotten out
And I even shout
Abruptly, I doubt
When was this a route?
A dream in a dream
Nothing's what it seems
I've fallen in a line
A circle, I mean
Maybe I've been trapped,
No, forward or back
Forever in time
I can't find the cracks
I guess it's the end
I'm lost in the wind
Well, isn't this sad
Guess I'll try again.
M Solav Sep 2018
We were mixed up when it built;
One another forced to coexist.
As it drew us high and higher still,
Below us grew the abyss.

Overflowing with ecstasy,
We left our hearts astray.
The obnubilating and obsolete
Had gotten our way.

Obstacles vanished one by one,
Increasingly slaying the beast.
Moments we thought we'd won
Are when we'd won the least.

We stretched out our hands towards the sky
Like wretched ghosts wrapped in disguise,
As though we had just found a new paradise
With the devil ahead leading as our guide.

We followed him all through the land:
"This way leads to the great fountain",
And now we're stuck in desert of sand
Wondering when oases shall be attained.

We've taken a bet against our nature.
Was it anyone-in-particular's fault?
"For every curse there'll be a cure,
For every flood a drought."

Once more, again, we shall repeat,
To morrow, for ever more.
When the sunshine now seems to greet
And when the darkness falls,

Comes the night time of our lives;
We ponder what we've been,
But what we're we supposed to be
When this pact was always sealed.

So we wait in such anxiety,
The impatience growing itchy;
And we amass, tall in piles,
To crash on the shores like the sea.
Written in August 2016.
Vicki Kralapp Jun 2013
Once I woke to find my knight,
  at first sign of morning light,
  lying softly in the sun's first rays.

Quietly I lie in wonder,
  watching as my thoughts did ponder
  as the light against his face did play

While my mind repeated lowly,
  I began to listen slowly,
  to its crisp and clear refrain;

Take this one and let him know
  how it is your love has grown
  and let him wipe away your years of pain.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
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