Questions poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of questions poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on questions are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
What is the very reason for our existence? What makes us the dominating race on Earth? Remember no life can be bought through cents. Whether it’s an adult or a child’s birth Why do we work day and night? Just
Walking downhill, I couldn’t control my speed. Suddenly I limped and there was blackout. I tried to open my eyes but failed. With difficulty I lifted my hand and felt my eyes wrapped. I could feel the jerks of a
Why? What? How? Where? Questions at every toss, questions at every turn, Find me a land devoid of these queries… Where none exists but only the fact series, That can’t be questioned, need not be answered. Take me to the
I am left dangling between Conformity and Freedom So… What do I choose from? The Damocles sword or the Carrot? Cognition or Intuition? Accordance or Independence? What do I chose from? Existence or Living? Submission or Expression? Precision or Exaggeration?
A little childhood collecting Waste papers on a garbage dump Asked me, “Am I borne to do this job?” I had no answer A childhood begging on roadside Asked me, “Is my childhood borne for begging?” I had no answer
What is it that is missing? What is it that is changing? What is and is not worth saying? What prices are worth paying? Who will be here tomorrow? Who won’t be here tomorrow? Who out there is faking pity
A little childhood collecting Waste papers on a garbage dump Asked me, “Am I born to do this job?” I had no answer A childhood begging on roadside Asked me, “Is my childhood born for begging?” I had no answer
Who closes the curtain? Sometimes a crazy wind. Who is paths washes? Rain is often. Sometimes tears,my darling. Why extended the night? Why want to sleep? Tired hearts. Sometimes dreams brings our desire Questions ends when? Who knows? You don’t
On wrong side of truth a prophecy burns. A conflict of your own choosing when more was less. Do you need some divine intervention in resolving human questions? The innocence of a sunflower will not blame the moon for dark
A gush of wind entered Through the open window. My shielded wings wandered all over The unanswered question which I hide in my unconscious mind, echoed in my conscious mind. Who am I ? I have a heart that forgives
Now that my mother, father and siblings have passed. Yes passed, a dainty word saying, dead, gone, either up in the sky, or down in the ground. At last I have said the words, dead, died, death, leaving me bereft.
Is it all worth it? The question asked through the ages. Even sages had no answer for me. “You have the answer within your head” They said. I delved deep into my mind, my life, finding strife thus far. Had
Is there only black and white? Who knows? Is there only darkness or light? Who knows! Who knows! Where are the shades of grey? Who knows? Where are the words I wanted to say? Who knows! Who knows! Is there
Time ticks away, Questions pour in Answers flow as crashing waves Against solid rocks The mute sky looks indifferent Is the era of clues over? Smilingly I pretend ease Watching, listening, chatting animatedly One eye on the clock Rhyming with
“Why don’t we go to the park, father,” Asked the little boy, slipping his little palm into his father’s, “Like we used to every day Till a month back?” “Why don’t we walk around the park, father,” He asked, tugging
Can you imagine, six bunnies sitting in a row all tapping one toe. Six birds in branches above all singing songs of love. Six frogs croaking in a pond waiting to turn into princes? Six M.P all shouting for space,
Tablets Of Stone Have you walked among the tombstones Have you seen what’s there Words chiselled in the stone Résumés of the departed, gone to seek redemption Transformed into tablets made of stone. Have you walked among the tombstones Have
I asked “what about the idea of togetherness”. Beloved replied “its vision’ I asked “what is progress of beauty”. Reply was “bashfulness” I urged “unveil thy face and expose thee to me” Refused beloved saying “Do not insist upon”. “Do
I tossed back the hot questions before searching the answer. Flaming torso of a limbless man was seeking a place to rest his soul. I inhale the death’s pungent odour so opiating and so brutal. Burning train chokes the windows
What is timelessness but the kindness from gods’ eyes wrapping the world at sunset’s time? And eternity, doesn’t it stay hung from of each day’s last moment balance’s pan? Is not perpetuity smiling disguised in the bridal body of the
Unhappy man I am! I can’t tell Why I dread the gods of heaven, The purgatorial demons of hell, The truths I need but haven’t; Happy pig in a philosopher wig! Apprentice me earnest and true – Which to embrace,
The clown is in the rocket ship and he’s crying just for you He’s been smoking something strange now he’s going up to the moon It’s alright because he’ll be back for you…………… real soon I might have; could have;
“There’s magic in the Coolroe-stream, or pucks weave herb into the browse to make me dream… In Killorglin town I bowed before a virgin-queen, who gave a crown to make me king with vision over everything. Our match remained unconsumate.
She screamed at the edge “Fate cannot be changed”, she fell I reached my hand, like many times This time I catch thin air I screamed, shouted, begged She never came She was tired of the game That she was
If my face was 4.95 inches, and in each of these inches, instead of blemishes and pores, were five-thirty-eight pixels, would you look at me? if my voice was polyphonic, and instead of whispering, interrupted meetings, funerals, and family picnics,
It was the Walking Time again The time on which to ponder Wonder, wander Across the wild heather and heath Coals, greys, hints of blue are above Looking down as if there is nothing beyond A blanket, envelope Surrounding and
Are angelic neurons fleshing inside a trans-Inquisition tavern? Another kind of speaking, pontificating globe? Can we feel the burning and sexing of the four seasons with the four elements, recycling earth, water, air, fire, to produce the quintessence of your