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William Eberlein Mar 2013
If I keep running,
will I reach my destination?

If I sit here and wait,
will it come to me?

If I stop all-together,
will it bounce back like a boomerang?

And what if I ignore it...

Will it finally let me sleep?
Marco Buschini Dec 2016
Into the wonderment of your autumnal mind.
Where the skin of your grief sheds its leaves.
Is the song of your sea bound into colourful light?
The Shepherd breaches the flock of your dreams,
And the pastures breathe a sigh of relief,
As your tears of morning dew
Glisten the parched landscape.
Does your bouquet of *****
Lay wistfully in the wilderness?
The skies of blue that reside in your eyes
Serenades the coming of the tide,
Harvesting the fruit of our labour of love.
Is this a wind of smile that turns into a voyage of valiancy?
A flock of thoughts liberated with a cry of exclamation
As your fears of autumn blue
Are exiled into the rapacious wind.
Cindra Carr Jun 2011
The blood loses its grip as the dreams of fire flow closer.
Alain’s face fills the gap my heart created with her dying breath.
I’ve lost hope more often than I’ve kept count.
Each moment slipped her away.
Every stranger’s touch faded the fresh memory of her breath upon my cheek.

Her heart was mine to the last moment.
Her blood pumped away wetting the field of battle.
I dreaded each day I woke knowing she was gone.
Time would not heal my wound.
It scarred and built numb spots of deadness.
It made it harder to feel.

I will see her.
I will touch her face in wonderment.
I will kiss the corners of her smile.
May the Mother help me.
Alain is waiting.
And I am looking for her.

ryn Mar 2015
Blue is the boulder overlooking the bay
Loosely pocked by weather-worn stains
Unwavering guardian of all that lay
Enigmatic yet silently screaming its pains

Blue is the reflection dancing playfully
Laid generously by the twilight moon
Upon the vast canvas of the darkened sea
Elated ripples readily accepting such a boon

Blue is the halo encircling the moon
Lavish circlet gifted by the sun
Unnoticed by eyes that slumbered too soon
Evading the sands of time that run

Blue is the silhouette of a lone sailboat
Lurching and bobbing by will of the waves
Unknowingly catching the zephyrs that float
Eluding the fingers from watery graves

Blue is the man; perched upon the boulder
Lapping up the stars mirrored upon the sea
Usurped heart of his had never sung drearier
Ensnared by woeful wonderment...
*that man is me...
RK Sep 2018
I watched him sharpen his pencils
fully involved in the fact.
The paringss fell to the ground
fascinated by his own creative act.

And in a daze I gazed,
there was no him or me.
Until I heard a voice,
saying - what an awful mess!

The spell now cut in two
I heard a voice come through
Mummy, I'll clean it up
Back again to me and you.

Imagination is a gift.

Thy joy of wonderment!

A moment of bliss watching a child sharpen  his colouring pencils.
King Panda Aug 2017
I am unsure of the geology
of where you’re from.

I expect there exists
shelves and sheaths

pale grey-yellow
like serum in the blood

and rocks resembling
sun-weathered lobster

all of this enclosed by

a festoon of green pine—
its regalia cut sonic

and naked
wrung and wrung again

by august.
on the edge

a cabin is hemmed on
the skirt of ocean—

spikes of molding logs
propped and resting

a wave comes in.

a wave goes out.
a wave stays to shake

your hand.
introduces itself as

sensate verge
and wonderment.


I can only imagine what
it is for you.
Michael Angelo Aug 2018
The day will come
When taking a ****
Will Seem a task greater
Than storming the beaches of Normandy.

On that day,
My bones,
Like wind chimes
Singing in the wind,
Will burn
A dull but ever-lasting flame.
A dying star
Taking its last breaths
And all will stand in wonderment
Asking themselves
"What now"
But only I will know.

From ash
A Phoenix rises
Only to fall again-
But I'm just  
A raven
My way to escape.
Harriet Shea Sep 2018
Sitting on a mountain high
gazing across the wondrous
art, so magnificent, with clouds
that will never appear again, they
shall vanish into vapor and another
will appear to bring forth

Wonder if life brings all this beauty
for us to become aware, finding
it in our own hearts to except
what we cannot change!

Calming effect flows through us
while we wipe away the stress
of another day.

Upon a star we make a wish to
have better understanding to
know answers to questions we
must learn through research
or living.

Sweet air we breathe to live
proud, realizing each breath
we take is another second chance
to live a better life, knowing we
are in charge, of all we do with
deep love and respect.

Their will never be another us
it is in our own hearts to climb
each mountain collecting each
thought, storing it away in our
memory bank.

How lovely to appear amongst the
stars, making wishes and praying
for happiness we carry deep
within our golden legacy
of whom we have been

By Derena
© 2018 Derena (All rights reserved)
Nat Lipstadt Jun 25
“I am a warrior, so that my son may be a merchant, so that his son may be a poet.”

John Quincy Adams, 6th President of the United States
a bad weakness, mine, mess with the perfect of others,
unsure what to add that will addictive illuminate further,
but as homage, a tribute, a salute
got to
got too,
no middle class delayed gratification for me, none, whatsoever,
read the words and my own hands choke me
as if to pull out, to free
the upsurging words in my chest-forming,
to uplift me up, from the floor where I am roiling in
wonderful wonderment at a prophecy come true

my recent family history,
about 400 years worth, got it written down someplace,
escapees from a Spanish Inquisition,
a Roman one before that,
meandering Jews who found a respite, a small welcome
in a small village in Germany

(the irony does not go unnoticed)

from villager to merchant, from tiny town to big city folk,
we went, warriors if any, kept secret, best unheard,
attract no attention, but do what survival doesn’t
always politely request

here I am child of the proverbial wandering jew,
fancy me a poet with, at best, a very small p,
one of three children, historians, book writers, scholars and even
and so a President’s words, hammer my cells
upon an anvil for human skins,
the future shape of me foreseen
and I think to myself,
alone and out loud:

This, This!

is what makes America great, 
welcoming the stranger,
even predicting their
possible pathway to a peaceful existence,
giving their descendant’s generations liberty,
liberty to become poets,
free, who can stand upright
It was a day of brilliant sunshine,
one that rarely lasts;
And with a sky of deepest blue,
a wonderment was cast.

Just beside the woodshed,
a garden glowed of Spring;
An awesome sight of color,
urging the birds to sing.

Open air and fields of gold,
that graced our tiny town;
Daisies, lilies, and tulips reigned,
as queens of great renown.

Our eyes would delight in early light,
of sheer delicacy and sustenance;
Fanciful thoughts swirled in our heads,
of pixie dust and angels' dance.

And in a childlike vision formed,
a bright clearing upon the land;
Of cherished moments still calling us,
like the sea always meets the sand.
Joseph Lochki Oct 2018
I hope you don't lie
When you say you have talent
And can create the images that play
In and out
of the words
That curve
And wind this page.
Can you write
me my deepest anguish
and upset
my trauma
All from this lucid wonderment of
Kara Jean May 2016
The women conspiring
She meant no pain
Her life is shadowy
She grew in beauty
Naturally she put on a show
Well noticable
In depths where her gut meets her heart
high voltage force, igniting
She was privileged, leaving hell
She could've freed the flocks in captivity
She closed her eyelids
Casual steps in vein
A void, cutting her insides
A wonderment why her point of view remains
Pure apology exchanged
Sight darkened when her eyes are opened
Unexpected she prays
How do I change
All expectations she never needed
Opinion unraveling, she pleaded
"Where is forwards deliverance"
Kewayne Wadley Jul 2018
It is possible.
To leap beyond where fear takes us.
Surely so many things happen.
By contrast
We stand still.
Wound up in total curiosity.
To dream in wonderment.
With each twirl we captivate the essence of someone else.
A sort of inspiration that convinces us that we are more than what we believe.
Beginning to walk,
Our other functioning parts come to life.
Embraced in true courage.
Spun around and round.
This huge metal behind it's back.
Suddenly this obstacle isn't what it seems.
First finding what is important.
The touch of someone else
Through encouragement.
The wind-up doll begins to move
No longer incapable by what we define as fear,
But enormous faith.
To place all of it's self in another
Without fear of adding another chip to it's face.
It waddles along.
Moments later,
Pride interferes.
It's movements stop.
To be spun up again and again
Falling to the floor
Seconds at a time
Justin G Diaz Sep 2018
i cannot put into words what you have done for me but i will try
i was lost in the numbness of nothingness
the silence around it all was getting way too loud
and i hadn’t felt the excitement of another for way too long

you’ve been around for a while
in the back of my mind as a matter of fact.

it may have taken a while to get you to notice me
but i was willing to take the time, because you felt different
and as far as ‘felt’
it’s too early to tell but you make me feel
and it’s not just a spurt of feel, its a feel thats real

i almost gave up in all honesty
i didn’t want to put myself out there again
to then just be torn limb from limb, again
but you felt, right

you’re quiet… to others
but to me you’re you
and i can’t get enough of you

your voice is distinct-
your voice is yours, it levels me and i could listen to it all day
your eyes are deep-
your eyes are specific, they look at me not through me
your walk is confident-
your walk is purposeful, you don’t wander
your presence is home, its way too early but at the same time idc
your essence is irrational, idk why you’re here at this time
but i can’t second guess it cause nothing has ever felt so right

i look at you and i am in wonderment
your beauty is indescribable
and your being makes your beauty seem intolerable

you make me want to become a better me
you make me reevaluate my purpose
you make me pay attention

i cannot put into words what you have done for me but i will try
i was lost in the numbness of nothingness
the silence around it all was getting way too loud
and i hadn’t felt the excitement of another for way too long

idk why God has placed you in my life
but i hope that you are here to stay
no one has affected me the way you do
i have been so afraid of it all
to stay put
to move
to be happy
to love
to give myself up
but you make me anxious to do all of those things
you make me want to be happy
you make me want to try
you make me want to take risks
you make me want to move
but most importantly-
you make me want to
Justin G. Diaz ®
wolfie1501 May 2018
along time ago
i found my self on my own
cold and afraid
i needed some where to call home
then u opened your heart to me
i found a friend
someone who could share
joys and woas
growing up by my side
u were my world
u were the one who held my heart
my dear cadence

i cherished every day we were togtether
and we knew no matter what we had each other
it was u and me
i wish that it could always be

remembering all of the fun we had
it brings me a smile
all of the mischief and the
of watch u light my world
i was so proud
y did theat moment have to end
my dear cadence

i cherished every day we were togtether
and we knew no matter what we had each other
it was u and me
i wish that it could always be
i wish that i could take us back to those moments
where theres no pain and betrayal
just love and laughter
it was u and me i wish that it could always be
my dear cadence

i wish it could always be
my dear cadence

i cherished every day we were togtether
and we knew no matter what we had each other
it was u and me
i wish that it could always be
i wish that i could take it back and never leave u
time apart was killing me
cause i still loved u
even when you'd gone
my love for u kept going strong

u said ud never leave me cadence
i i cant do this with out u
Greetings, it is merely I,
   He who breathes despite the lack of air,
   Gasping at a tenuous breeze.

I'd call this breath of redundant utterings,
   A practice of utter futility.

The breadth of my wonderment at the crushing silence graced upon my deafened ears,
   I stand fast as the verbal stone is cast upon my fragile being,
   Your callousness resounds within my vacancy,
   Occupied by none other,
   Confined within my ceaseless selflessness,
   Even if it is imperfect.

I am merely a soul.
   Cast 'pon the mercifully unforgiving earth.
   Borne brazenly to those who are willing to listen,
   At the risk of those who won't.

******'d herein I lye,
   Gazing 'pon the relentless monochrome.
   Searching for any guiding light.

I am merely a man,
   Searching for a home.
   I am merely the mind within which I reside,
   I am,
   Who I am.

~Robert van Lingen
Paul Butters Feb 18
In my late teens I would wonder
What is The Purpose of Life?
What should I Value?
What is truly Good?

But now at sixty six it seems so clear:
Life per se is what matters.
The wonderment
Of selves
That know they are selves.
Of sentience married with intelligence.
The miracle we call Life.

At nineteen I said
That the First Priority
Was Survival.
I wrote a thing called “The Bedrock”
To grow this theme.
And what was it that had to survive?
It was living beings
Nurtured by Mother Nature.

I am a “Lifist”
If you will:
Cherishing all that lives.
Humanist Plus
And more than Conservation.
Health and Wellbeing
For The Common Good.
A touch of Socialism
And Equal “Opps”.
I coined the word “Positivism”
To sum it all up.

Is this all poetry?
Maybe not.
But the greatest poem lies all around us:
The very world and universe
In which we live.

Paul Butters

© PB 18\2\2019.
What it's all about... What I personally call "Positivism".
Travis Green Dec 2018
Above the grassland the sun
shines upon the landscape,
a colorful wonderment of
creations, a twinkling beam,
a shimmering brushstroke of
infinite heartbeats.  

I watch the body of trees sway
in seamless motions, an arm
of astonishing bridges, incandescent
leaves, the brilliant face of the sky
an illumination of escape taking me
towards towering flights.  

I can breathe in the wings of love
hovering in the air, the hands of the
whipping breeze beating my chests, as
I stare at the sparkling red birds soaring
across the horizon.  

There was an iridescence of tranquility
in this place, a beautiful sound of
pure melodies touching my cheeks,
brightening my brown eyes, while
I simply smile and hold my head
up to the sky.
What hath I done to earn such disdain?
   Thust'ly I'd treated thee with an utmost courtesy,
   And yet,

I'd call this breath of redundant utterances,
   A practice of utter futility.

The breadth of my wonderment at the crushing silence graced upon my disbelieving ears,
   I stand fast as the imperceptible stones are cast upon my fragile soundings,
   Your callousness resounds and rebounds within my vacant battleground.
   Occupied by none other,
   Confined within my ceaseless, if imperfect, selflessness,

I am merely a soul.
   Cast upon, or down'pon the mercifully unforgiving earth.
   Borne brazenly to those who are willing to listen,
   At the risk of those who won't.

******'d herein I lye,
   Gazing 'pon the relentless, endless skies.

I am merely a man,
   Searching for a home.
   I am merely the mind within which I reside,
   I am,
   Who I am.
I have posted an edited version.
Normally I would just edit the original poem, or if the changes are significant enough, delete and re-post.

I've decided to keep this older version up as a demonstration of the changing in my thought processes day to day.

I often go to read back poems I'd written and I just, don't like them at all.
The way they flow, sound, etc.
Usually I can change the wording to improve the flow and sound without losing the original meaning.

Feel free to compare the original and the edit side by side.
Which do you like better?
Leighanna Aug 2018
I am like an astronaut floating in the sea
I know where I’m supposed to be
and I know it’s not here
Yet despite the creeping sense of my vindicated isolation
I still manage to revel in the wonderment that surrounds me
I may not be where I belong
But I am here none the less
So instead of trying so hard to find my place
I will accept where I have landed
For while I may not be here for a long time
I am here
And here is beautiful
I’m not really sure what to say about this one, it came to me quite quickly so I apologize that it may not be as good as some of my formers. To be simple I guess it’s just how I feel.
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