"ponding" poems
I feel like crying sometimes but
the liquid aroma of alcohol hazes
these emotions, but then I awaken
to those feeling ponding upon my
cerebral cortex and I grief in anger.
Do you know how much the flames
Ignite upon my form, as I fall I am
consumed within the emotions like
a stove I am taken high and then fall.
I feel like tears but drink them into
submission and once they linger in
a haze I ponder upon them on a
more sombre date and then forget.
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 3:52 PM UTC
“train tracks claim Christian.”
starting with statement from
a dozen past lives’ back,
ruminating on his comment:
“you speak as if your
life is already over.”
and yes, my words conveyed
ring contempt of future seen
through these old-soul eyes.
seen – vision inters experience –
with a soul blooded by existential
understanding. and staring at
fixed point of cell’s wall,
questioning myself aloud:
“what happened to
this monastic wanderer?”
simply responded in thought,
response of breathless word:
that is not your purpose
in this rebirthing. and,
“IT WILL NOT BE NEAT. POP”
that once barefooted vagrancy
in time of an innocent ideal-
ism, carried through years,
brought honest acceptance
that self-destruction is all we
can ever be certain of. and
if any rule governs the lives i run
footloose through, that is most
hopeful of all, for reconstruction
can and always follows in short
step. coming from vagrant bare feet to
hoping sight not being blinded like
the many listless eaters. and i sit
out, waiting for tracks to build
themselves in directions that in
end only led away from a pure
dawn’s rising sun. awaiting the
meticulous ponding where the
universe might provide haven for
this lotus eater. and once again,
in time of innocent idealism – again,
having learned falsifies – i choose
self-destruction so that i might
come to a reconstruction whose
foundation is not sole reverie.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
She said she can't love me back,
She was already broken,
She said she likes me
But, her heart has already be taken.
Hearing this my heart crys a bit,
And a tear roals down my cheek,
My heart was ponding rapidly,
It felt like a Boulder in my chest.
I was thinking why would he do that,
Cause I have never seen a girl like that,
Such a beauty inside and outside,
Holding her hand is not less then pride.
Some part of me was happy to know this,
And some part of me didn't want to know this.
Somewhere I was thinking this shouldn't have happened to her,
And I was praying to god to give her what's best for her.
Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 12:07 AM UTC
It seems like I had just woke up from a yond
Then remembering walking on a spring day captivated by a pond
Yet time was steadily moving on
Several events took place during 2014
Let’s see and explore
Several Black youth that had been killed
The world is reacting still
GOP now have the house and the Senate
I hate to say but we are in it
The White House was invaded in several situations with intruder’s who had guns on the White House yard
Yet Secret Service didn’t do their job right, and however they did get far
Winter paid an early visit
Weather conditions apply
Now comes the oh my
2014 which is coming to an end
2015 will soon begin
A world is thinking perhaps and possible suppose
While others are ponding on those
Prosperous engraved like a mount
The years past that we can count
Thanks for the experience
2015 will endure endurance
But rest assured
We continued to have life in applause
We must think on new challenges in achieve
Looking to God’s mercy in receive
We must conquer our own redemptions
We must see the right and expel the wrong
Yet we must all remain strong
God’s grace is where we all belong
Let there be peace within our troubled hearts
Let the image be more than reflection in the mark
I pray for a world that will come together in unity
This means around world into every community
Races upon Races uniting as one
End of story and I am done.
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 8:02 PM UTC
The wind is howling like the wolves in the forest, the wonderful wind that comes afar, a breeze when your hot on a summer day, a life safer when you cannot breath, beatiful mother nature how I love the winds that howl and healing powers it can give.
The trees are shaking back and forth the doors keep on slamming the windows keep on ponding you are so powerful it knocks me off my feet.
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 3:25 PM UTC
it's 3am
rain
is ponding
against
the window
darkness
swallows
even
the moon
and stars
and my soul
feels weirdly
vulnerable
May 13, 2020
May 13, 2020 at 6:21 AM UTC
Bottom line mind
Drip
Drip
Plop. Liquifacts
to think sleep fallingly
as annoying as
insomnia,
without
inspiration, then
You know, lowest realm,
fundus mundus real as ever.
Your most certain puddle
of all we knew, splashed
into and rippling
base line condensation, drips
seeping
desleeping po et
al ment potentcy
dropping,
ponding, deep below,
still, blackest black
to look into
using your
own curious wish
to follow
preinvested
mental funds first bet
on tomorrow being
worth rising
to find plain truth
as simple as pi and phi
in basic spirit satisfaction
-never failing perfectly
round and round and up to down
vision apparently evaluable
listened to as we spin
weighed
worth thinking through
wrong ways down
discerning bits useful
valuated trues exchanging
good guesses graces
for missed chances
to catch time lines
confluencing right
at terminal velocity, feeling still
as slowly as ifery falling
drips forming
meandering streamlets
infilling
curiousness wise
cerebral-itiosity's thought sea
of accumulated blessings and cursings
needed most assuredly to get through tonight.
Jun 11, 2025
Jun 11, 2025 at 1:57 PM UTC