Quotes about riddle, page 15
Free From Society
Running as fast as I can. I can feel them breathing down my neck. My demons, my dark side. Running? Running for hope, for expectations, for a better me, for a better future. Still running...I trip but pull myself back up and surpress the pain. I run, I'm almost there! I feel my weight drop. I look back and see that its my fears, and devilish thoughts that fall to the ground. And my anguished heart is made pure, as prue as it can be at the moment. No more running, No! Now I fly high, high and free. And the riddle that is my my life is starting to make sense... Because I have a great teacher.
poem by Jessica Elizondo
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To Alex. Smith, The 'Glasgow Poet,' On His Sonnet To 'Fame
Not vainly doth the earnest voice of man
Call for the thing that is his pure desire!
Fame is the birthright of the living lyre!
To noble impulse Nature puts no ban.
Nor vainly to the Sphinx thy voice was raised!
Tho' all thy great emotions like a sea,
Against her stony immortality,
Shatter themselves unheeded and amazed.
Time moves behind her in a blind eclipse:
Yet if in her cold eyes the end of all
Be visible, as on her large closed lips
Hangs dumb the awful riddle of the earth; -
She sees, and she might speak, since that wild call,
The mighty warning of a Poet's birth.
poem by George Meredith
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The Onslaughts
Of the few banned on this site sending me messages, this one well deserved it.
Playing riddle me not little head games.
And making fun of my name.
But I do not care.
I don't waver.
With every moment I savor.
All because of someone I associated myself with.
I'm not guilty I say.
But to my dismay that will not be the way of it I feel.
Hate is the air.
Let the onslaughts begin.
In the end I'm not going anywhere.
Stand firm my ground.
Stand firm my voice as it echos my sound.
You can not claim to be me.
No matter how hard you try.
The simplistic view of an outcry.
But I can not be reached.
Not by those means.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Sense And Spirit
The senses loving Earth or well or ill
Ravel yet more the riddle of our lot.
The mind is in their trammels, and lights not
By trimming fear-bred tales; nor does the will
To find in nature things which less may chill
An ardour that desires, unknowing what.
Till we conceive her living we go distraught,
At best but circle-windsails of a mill.
Seeing she lives, and of her joy of life
Creatively has given us blood and breath
For endless war and never wound unhealed,
The gloomy Wherefore of our battle-field
Solves in the Spirit, wrought of her through strife
To read her own and trust her down to death.
poem by George Meredith
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One Day The Tables Will Turn
In this senseless game you play
How you lead him so to believe
Love is just a mere toy for you
Watch them cry as you leave
Your heart is cold and cruel
How you want to be first in place
You speak words without feeling
Smile without remorse on your face
One Day The Tables Will Turn
Love you laugh is but a riddle you say
Kiss them and watch them all go
[...] Read more
poem by Suelynn Walters
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Here a riddle has drawn a strange nailmark
Here a riddle has drawn a strange nailmark. To sleep now!
I'll reread, understand with the light of the sun,
But until I am wakened, to touch the beloved
As I do has been given to none.
How I touched you! So touched were you even by the copper
Of my lips, as an audience is touched by a play,
And the kiss was like summer; it lingered and lingered,
Only later the thunderstorm came.
And I drank in long draughts, like the birds, half-unconscious.
The stars trickle slowly through the throat to the crop,
While the nightingales roll up their eyes in a shudder
From the firmament draining the night drop by drop.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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Tears Of The Sun
What eternal emptiness
Dances on the stage of time?
This shadow
Hanging over the one
Whose emerging breast
I gracefully kissed
Oh dearest Africa!
For you
The flapping fan of war
Lay on my forehead
Sorrow occupy my eyes
Driving out tears
These chameleon faces
Tear me to tears
All for Mother Earth’s relativity
Quest to subdue
The fire wood of this world
[...] Read more
poem by Happy Oyamenda Friday
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The Unwanted Time
the sweet sour pain rebirth the destiny of today
hand-capped with make-up and toiletries, making
face-off to all ages
limbo in any invention, puzzle in any form the
aspiration becomes the corner stone of tomorrows
search and riddle, find always the key and the
door remain to be closed
oh! hold on droplets of rain for the water is wit;
the wave stand still and the river is dry, the
guided cart venture every load to reach the ideal
of every minutes
somewhere in time, the clown will cry and the
circus will be the rostrum of misery, for what is
not cleanse the water purify the dirt
be the ingredients of hope...
poem by Antonio Liao
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Africa
The sun sought thy dim bed and brought forth light,
The sciences were sucklings at thy breast;
When all the world was young in pregnant night
Thy slaves toiled at thy monumental best.
Thou ancient treasure-land, thou modern prize,
New peoples marvel at thy pyramids!
The years roll on, thy sphinx of riddle eyes
Watches the mad world with immobile lids.
The Hebrews humbled them at Pharaoh's name.
Cradle of Power! Yet all things were in vain!
Honor and Glory, Arrogance and Fame!
They went. The darkness swallowed thee again.
Thou art the harlot, now thy time is done,
Of all the mighty nations of the sun.
poem by Claude McKay
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Touches of the Night
Brought by a mischievous wind, a sound –
Like a long whisper ringing in to my ear,
Seducing my naked form as it now rested,
From the cruelty of my fiendish mind;
As the clouds erased the face of the moon,
A prism of light crept into my misty room,
Upon which I saw the shadow of my soul,
Forbidding my idled-body to sleep no more;
By torrid touches of the night awakened I,
In a tug of war between evil and good,
A crucial race of life and death did I see?
The eclipse of my body and soul or shall I say,
Am I lucky or luckily I breathed again -?
For whom I’ve given the riddle if death became mine.
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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