"pondering" poems
My little friend is now gone
My tragic life must go on; despite that
His evil eyes and his cheeky smile still burn in my mind
He no longer exists except
For my memory of him
And I rejoiced
When I heard the news
Still I can recall how I sobbed
When he gave me his evil eye for the first time
When he hurled glass and other projectiles at me when he was hungry
When he spent hours upon hours pondering the fabric of society
I hated him
I wished
For his death
I was depressed
It was like paint peeling off a wall
It was like finding a dead leprechaun at the end of a rainbow
I was expecting some sort of remorse when he left
Funny how heartbreak works
Now read this in reverse
Because sometimes all you need
Is a little change of perspective
To truly understand someone
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 12:28 PM UTC
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?
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 11:42 PM UTC
"DEAR BLANK CHALLENGE" PLEASE PLEASE READ THIS AND REPOST TRY TO KEEP IT GOING: HELLOPOETRY "DEAR BLANK" CHALLENGE SECRET SANTA POEMS EXCEPT NOT SECRET AND NOT SANTA RANDOM ACT/POEM OF KINDNESS STRANGER POETRY APPRECIATION
I thought it might be nice to do like a secret santa thingy on hellopoetry only not secret and not santa… what I mean is, find a random stranger you literally have never met and do NOT know at all whose poetry you like and spend actual time genuinely reading their work, picking out your favorite lines and responding to them, pondering them, etc. Write something positive to them and post it as a poem with their name in the title. The “DEAR BLANK” challenge only you put their name instead of “blank”. I think we could all use a little recognition that we exist and are worth something since everyone seems a little depressed on here (including myself) which is fine, it’s a great outlet but it would be nice for people to just spontaneously find that a random stranger spent time in their life just to recognize you and care about your poetry. To write a kind poem/letter to them responding to lines in their poetry. If you need an example I just posted DEAR IMALRIGHT which was exactly what I meant. Check out imalright's poetry btw it is amazing.
I plan on doing for more than one person and I'd love for you to do the same. Spread a little kindness, we could all use a little.
Also message me if you are going to do the challenge and message the stranger you do the DEAR BLANK challenge for so they know to look for and read your poem.
I just thought that Imalright who was a perfect stranger to me seemed like a wonderful poet and a wonderful person based on her poetry so I chose her.
You do that too if you accept the DEAR BLANK challenge.
INCLUDE DEARBLANKCHALLENGE AS A HASHTAG IF YOU DO THE CHALLENGE SO EVERYONE CAN FIND THEM
please repost this over and over so we can get as many people involved as possible and try and make a difference in a couple people's lives because I just want to make everyone feel loved but I'm just one girl, I can't do it alone. Please help me with this and join me in the DEAR BLANK challenge. Take time out of your day to properly appreciate someone's poetry who you do not know.
PLEASE REPOST LET'S GET EVERYONE INVOLVED!!! ;D
THANKS!
-EMBER EVANESCENT
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 1:41 AM UTC
Every blue patch on the sky keeps an eye,
cherishing clouds dancing, hovering over.
The songs of deep blue ride the heady air,
only to be stunned, all of a sudden,
at the first sight—
sung down on a perfectly placed mural.
The Queen of Sheba tiptoes this way;
King Solomon leans to the ground,
only to find seas of silent blooms
musing, dipping in sun-kissed dews—
on gently tilted roses that will not fall,
not from this picture-perfect, navel-high!
Velvety, the rose rises from the ground;
the forever-green Earth hangs low,
in the dew on the rose that will not fall.
Blossoming, eyeing an acute high,
evermore hopeful to scale upward,
toward the faraway, awaiting heaven's pool.
There, the spotlight does not move—
neither north nor south, nor up nor down—
until Queen Fathima, the Queen of Heaven,
steps on the "as above, so below" slope.
There, the newly resurrected Earth will be primed,
its minted atoms vibrating beyond bounds,
rising, for the first time, atop the navel-high.
Perfectly wrapped, the atom's circle finally turns on—
the stepping stone that holds no pi-decimal hole.
Pure Scientia hangs on the door of Paradise,
awaiting the numerically perfect Queen Fathima to step.
God willing, she will work in beauty:
the most sought-after, perfect works of art—
the lost masterpiece, not in translation,
but hidden within the pi-decimal abyss of Earth's depth.
Lo, the gleaning Sleeping Beauty peeps,
trailing the role model Queen.
Fathima—the first woman to enter Paradise—
walks the walk: perfect, straight, numerically precise.
As if she always knew, back from the Earth,
of the murals ahead, hanging on Paradise’s wall,
mathematically exact!
Mirrors of imagination, new wonders on Heaven’s way,
etched in the murals at the golden section, navel-high.
She zooms past the ever-spinning atom’s perfect span,
cemented at the entrance of Paradise.
Yet leaves no footprint—
for she never did, even on the sublunary Earth.
A new wonder blooms in the classic old eyes:
oh, Pi, still irrational, still pondering,
at the measured, eternal navel-high!
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 5:02 PM UTC
*in the midst of an emerald slumbering forest
laced with pungent scents of jaded wood
a burgundy blushed tail
of a chestnut hued fox
scurries as copper sunbeams part the day
a hospital lumes starkly nearby
its aura exudes hints of melancholy
commingled with faint impressions
of halcyon futures
not yet lived
at neighboring dartmouth
a student sprinting to class
drops his crimson colored backpack
the prospect of cancer
far from his budding consciousness
my beloved sits patiently
pondering pensively
his last chemo treatment
elusion of death
not far from his mind
i feign to fend off future catastrophes
watching letters scramble across my screen
earnestly writing
in a desperate attempt
to be with him forevermore
an aquamarine hummingbird drenched in tranquility
senses the inverse
its amber tipped wings stand seemingly stationary
while it steals a quick glance through the window
curious at chemical infusions meant to heal
my beloved walks out
of the austere building
with rose colored glasses i feel
that we’ll whirl on the tips of gilded stardust
dancing with another chance to fly
©2016janetaylor
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 1:19 AM UTC
I was listening to a poet
reciting his poem “Times”.
He was pondering, could
it be like this and that?
Suddenly my cup of tea
happened to taste so sweet,
made me wonder why
wasn’t it such an edgy,
a while ago any time
before now just as tasty.
Where on a stony thorn
was it stuck this long?
It had to bloom just now,
so sweet a rose!
No one predicted whether it
will rain or not, it just drops.
The sun, shedding clouds,
suddenly swims so low!
Pondering me, I could
then only digest it
accepting a truth:
It doesn’t matter when
the bees love to come out,
sit on the rose and fly.
For the time, its best bard
only sings on time!
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 7:48 PM UTC
quandering, pondering
and whiskey has become
first and only desk liquor. now
digressing to the Blue Eyed
beauty writ of this the final
page of notebook. and now,
reflecting on this early hour.
an hour when the goat's
head stares thru to soul
with always lifeless eyes. stares
thru this soul with lack of
energy, with entire days'
lack of consumption. and with
ease this one has been long
and gone in falsified attraction
of angelfaced Blue Eyed
matriarch; this one patriarch.
thought entirely conceived. contrac-
epted by reality of situation. by
reality in general sense, yet words
spew unfiltered with lingering hope
behind slanted smile. shying stares,
all the while watching from eyes'
corners. voices of all but her's
fall deaf; vessels otherwise mute to
concerns not of the Blue Eye's. and
here this one finds self lost to rom-
anticized thoughts knowing they can
be found sterilized via logic.
contradicting always, yet
no brass holding finger locked to
joint. and realizations of actual
place spears forehead; spears fore-
brain. disrupting what is preconceived
concerning entangled souls. hair falling
aside temples. point of restraint, this
one must end before depression catches
hold; this one calling abrupt ending.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 11:22 PM UTC
Sweetly does the rain
Sing against my window,
As it stirs the lavender
That caresses my nose,
Growing beneath my window as
My mother planted it there to do.
Wary do I grow of counting the
Lines,
Groves,
And cracks in my ever changing ceiling.
I try making out images instead of counting, Lacking creativity all I can see is
White,
Frooved
Clouds.
Dusk is capturing the world now and
The rain has finished it’s melody,
The insects and frogs
Take the stage and
Somewhere in the distance
Is the cry of a lone hawk,
Maybe feeling left out of the insects and frogs Choirs as,
He cries
His sad
Song.
Pondering as to what the
Hawk’s story is
And as I ponder
I begin to hum
A soft melody keeping time
With the frogs and insects,
Maybe I am feeling left
Out like the hawk?
A breeze joins in,
String up the glories
Smell of lavender again
And cooling my face as it
Comes through the open window
I slowly drift
Off
To
Sleep...
...zzz
May 1, 2012
May 1, 2012 at 2:08 AM UTC
On Monday we met, our eyes fixated on one another, eager to know more
On Tuesday we talked, twiddling our thumbs, fidgeting in our seats, pondering on the right things to say
On Wednesday we hugged, your arms held me close, heartbeats in sync, I felt myself floating
On Thursday we kissed, our lips gravitated towards each other, like the moon and the sea, the connection was natural
On Friday we confessed, three little words wrapped around our ears,
forever tattooed in our minds
On Saturday you disappeared, no note, no call, no text
not a trace of you left that I could still hold on to
On Sunday I cried, my heart still beats, but never the same way,
would you ever give me a reason if I ever asked "Why?"
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 3:28 PM UTC
dear chemistry,
you are a detective
you hold scientists
in an enchantment
of protons and neutrons
you dissect me
identifying the components
that allow me to waltz
across light and holy ground
while you are bound
to seek solace
in what my atoms
cannot give you
i cannot give you motion
or allow you speed past me
that is my task
my task is to entrance
philosophers in the "whys"
and "hows" of my force and energy
and i'm sorry that
you are bound to be prose
when you seek to be poetry
i'm sorry that if you were a musician
you'd have all the words
and i'd be the melody
we'd be the song
that could never meet
i'll meet you in between the horizons
when my masters
speak to yours
pondering on what allows
the why to occur and
how does the event happen
i'll meet you in between
question marks and white coats
i'll meet you in the next life
when maybe the future
will allow us to be trees
instead of branches
my arms will spread
to reach out to your matter
past the artifices
and your atoms will
race towards me
all force, energy and velocity
and i will ask the "whats" and "hows"
and maybe you will answer the why
and maybe the answer
will be a discovery
a phenomena of sentences
all questions already answered
always yours, physics
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 8:12 AM UTC
please don't fall in public
don't let them see
tears are just a reminder
of the pain inside of me
I never had a friend
who saw when my tears rained down
I never had a friend,
who cared if I was around
I used to try and hold them in,
late nights where spent pondering if death was the way
it seemed I was drunk off my pain, and my tears helped numb that
it seems to me that tears are just another way of numbing myself.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
I just want to write a poem no one ever thought of writing
It must have the same effects as walking on the moon
It must trend faster than a meteor as it hurdles through cyber space
I refused to love any man, who dislikes my poetry,
My man must support my passion ..
not only the warmth of my body
but the passion within this poetess, my secretive mind he must be able to balance:
Without wondering why a woman like me is so naturally secretive
I am always embracing the dark side of my creativity
Dropping little hints here and there throughout the years,
Sidney J. Harris once said something that left pondering thoughts
He said “When he hears somebody sighs,
'Life is hard,' he’s always tempted to ask them, 'Compared to what?'
I would simply say dog-gone it: Compared to struggling poets whose tries to make a living as a writer
While an upcoming rapper like Chief Keef
signed a several-million dollar deal
with offending lyrics in today music industries:
I just want to write a poem no one ever thought of writing,
With lots of intense emotion bursting through each line:
Because a poem can’t exist without a poet's multiple voices
and most of all his divine missions
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 5:01 PM UTC
Standing at my window with an aching in my chest
Looking out the window as the rain poured down
Pondering hard if I could withstand this test
Fixed in a lost gaze; in tearful helplessness I drown.
The raindrops burst as they fall and hit the ground
Into a million droplets merging back into a puddle
Like muffled drumming, chaotic yet calming is the sound
Spellbound by it's sight, so beautiful...so subtle.
My eyes grow weary but still I wish to witness
These glassy beads falling enchantingly from the sky
Hoping it'll wash away the miss and all of it's madness
Felt the moist in the wind as it kissed my cheeks dry.
This magic before me, I can stare upon all night
For I love it so, it brings the solace I so have craved
Much like my love, I'd gaze upon her till the break of light
Wishing I could tell her of the love I've saved...
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 6:17 AM UTC
Why do you love the one you do?
Arrogant as he lives
Intriguing minds have not a clue.
He cheats, he lies and receives your endless forgives
Security he cannot propose
Financially, spiritually, emotional or otherwise.
Love unfaithfully he bestows
Disguised as Christian he justifies.
Smothered in the cocoon of his limited sphere,
Hinders flight for the beautiful butterfly,
Egotistically the coward oozes insincere.
Sadly pondering, inquiring minds ask Why?
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 12:55 AM UTC
Not much inquiry
is necessary
delineating candlelight
Not much pondering,
only the flickering
whispers which permeate
time-space
And transfix time
temporarily
are the tools
for description...
...something about
the periphery
that lies beyond
its heated source
is the mystical shimmering glow
and its soothing embrace
that hugs
cradled-souls
And most matter about...
...energy not yet exhausted
heated translucent secretions
gush down
from the hot-tip likened phallus...
...the heated beads reflect the candlelight
Watching the warm trickles,
human feelings are warm
Lightly light
and light headiness
soon embrace...
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 7:15 AM UTC
*The Dolphins came to heal me
They didn’t know it wasn’t meant to be
They circled me & brushed pass my legs
I felt their healing but I could not receive it
Wounded hearts do not heal
Broken dreams do not soar
Crushed spirits do not forgive
The dolphins came again
This time with a heart to replace mine
They put it in place of the old
They swam away with the old
The new heart felt good inside
I could heal
I could soar
And I could forgive
Some years later the dolphins came again
They came with another heart yet again
I was to take care of it
I was thrilled
I was happy looking after it, for a while
The dolphins came again some years later
To check how I was doing with the extra heart
It was too much work and so I gave it back to them
They were sad as they swam away
I looked out at sea one day after many a lonely years
Longing for the healing of the dolphins
One dolphin came up to me and said
“My heart is all I have to give”
I did not know if I should take it
Just as I was pondering, another dolphin swam by and said
“Try again”
I took it and tried to love again
It was better this time
I did not deceive myself and I let it be
Two hearts were better I thought
Then, what about another two, the dolphin asked
I took them and cared and shared
And today I have six hearts to behold….
The dolphins smiled and waved goodbye….*
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 3:49 AM UTC
The night swiftly wafts through the window,
the darkness, opaque, though everything is there,
the soft glow of moonbeams from the heavens,
the clock ticking it's undying sound,
me in my bed pondering life's wonders,
the moon drifting each and every night.
Soon I am gone, everything is gone,
The Moon moves steadily on
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 11:24 PM UTC
We start from nothing
And spring from dreams
Reaching through dimensions
And time.
I stand like a rock
Rooted to the earth beneath my feet
Know this place
Own this space
Whilst possessing nothing at all
Still I fly
Pondering reality
Dreaming with clarity
Knowing only
Love survives all.
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 12:14 PM UTC
In a dark corner, pondering the state of the world
as I write this, I take another drink
drowning in this thing, the drink I mean
opening my mind allowing me to see
everything much more clearly
for is this not what it does
heals wounds, numbs the pain
whilst killing you
how ironic
but I can't stop and I hate it
such a dependence, thoughts much more attuned
when intoxicated and alone
and God how I love it, how I hate it
I know I am weak
I say with cigarette and drink in hand
but it dulls the agony so why not
why not
there are those sober, suffering, judging
at least I can admit it
yes I admit it, I am weak
I love music, drink, loneliness, drugs, misery
I am most alive when I look out
and see those in denial of the horror
I know the truth, I know it is real
I accept it
my friend, this is what it is to be human
inspiration
I love the idea of peace, love, happiness
but the entire world won't accept it
so I drink
I smoke
I sit alone in a dark corner
and ponder
what if
what would I be if humanity coexisted
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 12:45 AM UTC
She also underwent breast reduction surgery in 1992, and has said on the subject:
"I really love my body and the way it is right now. There's something very awkward about women and their ******* because men look at them so much. When they're huge, you become very self-conscious. Your back hurts. You find that whatever you wear, you look heavy in. It's uncomfortable. I've learned something, though, about ******* through my years of pondering and pontificating, and that is:
Men love them, and I love that."
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 7:44 PM UTC
__Body__
Let me love and care for the art piece
of your body- every pulsating touch of your
spasms. Jumping wildly; while washing
me in your spring water on top a mountain
of passions. I’ll spurt within you, from its tip.
And in kind; let the wetness of your lips
sooth my skin. Kissed by your sensual soul, as
it echoes every word of thirst, running down your
throat; chasing after every breath we lose in
a moment.
_Still, let us not love in haste._
__Amazon Queen__
I gaze at you, as my sprouting rose in
bloom. But not something so delicate; she is
tall, shapely, and sturdy— my Amazon Queen
that keeps me in the centre of her rainforest.
As she lets my words water her floret by
their tip- its warmth and gentleness spoke of
a love so deep and fulfilling.
__Foot fetish__
Oh, how she stimulates my eyes,
as I make out with her eye’s persuasion;
my mind often rehearses how I’ll love her
in it’s imaginations- my mind’s perfect
simulation;
For our desires are much sweeter,
by every bite of her smooth chocolate skin
I adore her more than I would have
yesterday- to quietly bless each step
she’ll take tomorrow. And a reason for me
to kiss her feet.
__Moist__
Surely as the night is washed by the gentle rains-
I have these saturated thoughts, pondering how
she’ll drown me over another night’
As she could never
have the most without I in the middle;
her underwear feels so moist.
__Climactic Prelude & Conclusion__
Would you love to experience a climactic
prelude; a middle so sweet in its time;
While my eyes ripen at the sight of your
ripening fruit,
Oh, so sweet in its time, let me capture
and savour that juicy fruit,
For yes indeed we had fallen in love-
but let not that fruit eventually fall;
From its tree, to rot off its vine; let me bite
you as mine- to taste your heaven’s ecstasy;
In this climactic prelude; I promise the middle
is filling, and its conclusion won’t be short lived.
Jul 1, 2024
Jul 1, 2024 at 8:22 AM UTC