Sometimes in my humble writings I find myself asking : "Where am I going with all this?"
I simply might need a time-out in what I think and do. Some refer to this as a writer's block while others say it is a time to just step away.
I have found comfort during these times to ask myself questions about life...without having answers to the questions I may indeed ask.
Ephemeral is an adjective I have chose to express this present state. The definition is simply "to last a very short time, like a popular fashion."
The other word I chose "loquacious," also an adjective that means "to be quite talkative to the point of of being excessive in doing so."
I think I just may be a mood when I need to slow life down "a tad."
The following is a writing that I do not know whether to categorize it as a poem or a series of random thoughts, so I guess I will refer to this as a "Random Poem." I hope you enjoy!
"Perhaps Ephemeral, Certainly Loquacious"
If songs and notes do not play in our minds,
How do geese fly south with such grace and rhyme?
What does a song have to do with a person's soul?
If the song is real, then is your soul?
If it is true the Prince takes our sad songs we sing,
Is it the words He changes or the chords on the strings?
If we seek music that is uplifting and sweet,
Is it best to have an ear trained to listen, or a voice that sings?
If life is a game that is extremely hard to play,
When the game is over, don't we lose anyway?
If my dreams are exotic, unique, and not always about me,
How did I end up on this empty parking lot with one barren tree?
If being lucky and strong are pillars in life,
Are faith and hope on the sidelines, cheering us on?
If I do not seek revenge in my dealings in life,
Is there a Day of Reckoning to quench the thirst and strife?
When despair makes its presence in those dark alleys and pubs,
Does he choose favorites, or befriends the foolish, the wise, the old, and the young?
Why does Darkness hide
When one offers a warm and genuine embrace?
Why do we plant a seed a seed to watch a beautiful flower come from the earth,
Only to see it die and leave one's soul to bleed?
The various paths our shoes have traveled,
Are they not covered in duct tape from tragedy or wear?
Is it best to end a vigil when you hear the drums of defeat,
Or join the ranks of the silent with violins of peace?
If fear simply wants you to die,
Is death the lost key that opens our hearts to come alive?
Are you sure you really want your dreams awakened?
Is it really worth that kind of chance?
If love covers a multitude of sins,
What happens to the rest of them?
In order to be famous and have poets write of you,
don't the gods have to show interest in what you do?
Have you ever stopped to think what exactly brought the pain,
Only to forget to start life again?
What if I climb every mountain, ford every stream, and follow every rainbow,
Only to find I am now lost?
If you are asked "Are you a good person?", and you say "Yes,"
Then you are asked "Are you corrupt?", and again you say "Yes."
What are you?
Kipling once wrote"Words are mankind's greatest drug."
Is silence a word or is it a drug?
If strength is to be found in a most unlikely place,
Did Anne Frank's diary give strength a face?
If the life in our years is what is important to Lincoln,
Can one be dead yet still living?
If who I am demands a boundary,
Is it right for another to get angry?
A spectacular waterfall is beautiful to view,
Does a gentle stream bring any virtues?
One more question and my thoughts for now will need rest...Wait!, make that two questions:
1. How can one speak of a home they have never been?
2. If our lives would never change, be it better or sometimes worse,
Would the words yesterday, today, or tomorrow be found or understood?
Listen, "Tis some visitor" I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door. Only this and nothing more."
I simply might need a time-out in what I think and do. Some refer to this as a writer's block while others say it is a time to just step away.
I have found comfort during these times to ask myself questions about life...without having answers to the questions I may indeed ask.
Ephemeral is an adjective I have chose to express this present state. The definition is simply "to last a very short time, like a popular fashion."
The other word I chose "loquacious," also an adjective that means "to be quite talkative to the point of of being excessive in doing so."
I think I just may be a mood when I need to slow life down "a tad."
The following is a writing that I do not know whether to categorize it as a poem or a series of random thoughts, so I guess I will refer to this as a "Random Poem." I hope you enjoy!
"Perhaps Ephemeral, Certainly Loquacious"
If songs and notes do not play in our minds,
How do geese fly south with such grace and rhyme?
What does a song have to do with a person's soul?
If the song is real, then is your soul?
If it is true the Prince takes our sad songs we sing,
Is it the words He changes or the chords on the strings?
If we seek music that is uplifting and sweet,
Is it best to have an ear trained to listen, or a voice that sings?
If life is a game that is extremely hard to play,
When the game is over, don't we lose anyway?
If my dreams are exotic, unique, and not always about me,
How did I end up on this empty parking lot with one barren tree?
If being lucky and strong are pillars in life,
Are faith and hope on the sidelines, cheering us on?
If I do not seek revenge in my dealings in life,
Is there a Day of Reckoning to quench the thirst and strife?
When despair makes its presence in those dark alleys and pubs,
Does he choose favorites, or befriends the foolish, the wise, the old, and the young?
Why does Darkness hide
When one offers a warm and genuine embrace?
Why do we plant a seed a seed to watch a beautiful flower come from the earth,
Only to see it die and leave one's soul to bleed?
The various paths our shoes have traveled,
Are they not covered in duct tape from tragedy or wear?
Is it best to end a vigil when you hear the drums of defeat,
Or join the ranks of the silent with violins of peace?
If fear simply wants you to die,
Is death the lost key that opens our hearts to come alive?
Are you sure you really want your dreams awakened?
Is it really worth that kind of chance?
If love covers a multitude of sins,
What happens to the rest of them?
In order to be famous and have poets write of you,
don't the gods have to show interest in what you do?
Have you ever stopped to think what exactly brought the pain,
Only to forget to start life again?
What if I climb every mountain, ford every stream, and follow every rainbow,
Only to find I am now lost?
If you are asked "Are you a good person?", and you say "Yes,"
Then you are asked "Are you corrupt?", and again you say "Yes."
What are you?
Kipling once wrote"Words are mankind's greatest drug."
Is silence a word or is it a drug?
If strength is to be found in a most unlikely place,
Did Anne Frank's diary give strength a face?
If the life in our years is what is important to Lincoln,
Can one be dead yet still living?
If who I am demands a boundary,
Is it right for another to get angry?
A spectacular waterfall is beautiful to view,
Does a gentle stream bring any virtues?
One more question and my thoughts for now will need rest...Wait!, make that two questions:
1. How can one speak of a home they have never been?
2. If our lives would never change, be it better or sometimes worse,
Would the words yesterday, today, or tomorrow be found or understood?
Listen, "Tis some visitor" I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door. Only this and nothing more."
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