Quotes about puzzle, page 28
Days I enjoy
Days I enjoy are days when nothing happens,
When I have no engagements written on my block,
When no one comes to disturb my inward peace,
When no one comes to take me away from myself
And turn me into a patchwork, a jig-saw puzzle,
A broken mirror that once gave a whole reflection,
Being so contrived that it takes too long a time
To get myself back to myself when they have gone.
The years are too strickly measured, and life too short
For me to afford such bits of myself to my friends.
And what have I to give my friends in the last resort?
An awkwardness, a shyness, and a scrap,
No thing that's truly me, a bootless waste,
A waste of myself and them, for my life is mine
And theirs presumably theirs, and cannot touch.
poem by Victoria Sackville-West
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Reality Check
Falling from the vacuum
Away from the blinking stars
Away from the careless clouds
The gravity engulfs
The dust rose in welcome and settled
Faces rose in concern and settled
Nothing new for them
The brightness took a leap beyond clarity
The pain moans in silence grabbing its mouth
The courage stood naked in the middle of everything
Trapped inside this kaleidoscope of reality
It takes effort to breathe in this omnipresent air
Gathering the countless pieces
Another zigzag puzzle ready to be solved in time
The time which is already a million miles ahead
Winking back and laughing with a face so flat and cold
[...] Read more
poem by Falky Flakes
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Regrets of the Past.
Do you know what happens when you regret the past?
Your body system goes haywire and eats up your inside fast.
The choice is, you can end up with alzheimer's or cancer,
Do you think it is worth to entertain the past any longer?
Live for the today & be grateful for everything, I mean EVERYTHING,
Because you have only the now for your entertaining.
The past is gone, the future is not here yet, hope you learned from it,
If not, it will repeat again until you learn it's benefit.
However, when you learned a lot in life and see the result,
By putting the puzzle together becoming humble & really an adult.
Life will be light, happy, peaceful & with respect to all,
Going through time in contentment, solving your lessons & you'll never fall.
poem by LaSoaphia QuXazs
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Pardon my call Lord
Oh! open the gate of heaven, and
Listen to my call my heart has
whisper the silent of the night of my
soul as the key unlock the voice of
surrender of my trusted soul bereaved
in the grave of fading home
dawn come no more, in the shadow
of my grave; loaded with flowers in the
head smell like nobody holds the candid
picture in the window of yesterday and
the silence bold, to come in the light to
admonish my limit
oh! my Dear Creator, patiently wait
you'll come to thy living soul; cleanse
my body and humble my lonely heart;
show me the emptiness of your hatred,
tangle my longing and puzzle in the
wilderness of suffering burning my
[...] Read more
poem by Antonio Liao
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I just don't know
Oft times it seems to me, a maze
A puzzle of a life deploying
I’m not yet lost in life’s hindering haze
I just don’t know where I’m going
Chimeric choices, perplexing places
Devisive devices, puzzlingly annoying
I’m not yet lost in life’s repetitive races
I just don’t know yet, where I’m going
Seems an arcane game, with no obvious answer
checkmate and stalemate keeps hope from bouying
I’m not lost in life’s ballroom, I’m simply a dancer
And I just don’t know yet…where I’m going
If you've figured it out
you could save me much toiling
I'm not really lost, yet could you just give me a shout
and tell me where it is that I'm going
[...] Read more
poem by David Whalen
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Whose Boot Is It Anyway?
Alone & footless,
Sideswiped on the highway,
South of Grand Canyon,
The boot weathers the rain.
Whose feet had felt its pain?
The absent man hurdled from a car,
Dead, now a ghost among the juniper flat.
Gone now, but a pariah to his own left boot's wall.
A bum, a hectic gambler, a heretic,
Or just some dozing motorist;
Another question remains;
Was the little white cross sticking out of the pavement
His? Or was that happenstance,
Laced up to the top, some unlikely chance?
No man is here.
Yet a man was there.
A man who lost his life & line,
Leaving one boot as a puzzle to find.
[...] Read more
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Life
Life – a Puzzle!
More – a Riddle! !
A hard nut to crack!
An Ocean Deep with swirls and twists! !
Has anyone seen it in length and breadth?
Has it ever taken the course we designed?
Like the travellers within a Phantom ship,
We sail past to far unknown lands.
Through rugged waves, we drift along,
Either to perish or to be cast ashore.
So elusive, Life remains,
Like the mirage over the stretch of sands.
Often it seems so easily within reach
But far, it recedes out of grip.
Like a juggler, performing tricks,
It holds people to watch and wonder.
[...] Read more
poem by Valsa George
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The Daughter Yet Met
sits he a pondering
the years fate has dealt
knowing in his heart there be
a daughter
yet met
mother’s have their plans
bound in unvoiced intentions
reasons in her eyes
he did not see,
needs,
till a future was to be conceived
sits he a pondering
the few words she had spoken,
a puzzle solved after
their last kiss
still, it was her test
[...] Read more
poem by Steven S. Walsky
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Notes To An Amnesiac
memories are made of these
Your keys
Odd socks left on the washing line
names on a list in a book
You cannot find
That lost glove
Pushed under the carpet
Or the note you wrote about your lover
Before you ever met or even touched
And the television is turned to neutral
As you listen
And unlisten
To the radio in your head
Your dinner is left congealed
Your books dusty and unread
The puzzle
Full of words you no longer understand
The alien has landed in a foreign land
Memories are made of these
[...] Read more
poem by Yvette Smith
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On The Early English Poem The Ruin
Mile-wide ruin of a city,
ruin of a town,
told tales fragmented,
your lost poet foiled,
his ruined poem
once whole on vellum, torn,
blackened to earth,
shrunk into microfilm.
Bath was the city
that bred bright balladry,
a rumoured recital,
rare fresh-inked flower.
Rime in the mortar,
rime on the broken tiles,
gold on flashing water,
fragment of a world.
[...] Read more
poem by Sally Evans
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