Thoughts Bombard My Mind

Thoughts bombard my mind like many chirping birds
Talking among themselves hiding in dense full leaves of trees.

Non stop they pluse my mind with never-ending words
Of what I should do;
Or say next.

Only consolation sometimes is when I go to sleep
They stop for few hours to breathe before they start anew.

How can one manage all these fighting thoughts
That fling themselves upon me in constant stream?

There is not much time in a day
To get to each and every thought
That passes through my mind.


Thoughts Arise

The thoughts that arise in me.
Like currents journeying through the windless deep.
And everything but sleep.
They are quiet, as under the sea.
Dreamers, mark the honey bee;
Full of sweet dreams, and health and quiet breathing
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Yet it well might be that never be for me.

John Clare: “Song’s Eternity”
George Meredith: “Dirge in Woods”
Alfred, Lord Tennyson: “Break, Break, Break”
Willam Cullen Bryant: “The Poet”
Algernon Charles Swinburne “The Garden of Proserpine”
Margaret E. Sangster: “Our Own”
John Keats: “A Thing of Beauty”
Henry Wandsworth Longfellow: “The Village Blacksmith”

April 5th Prompt: A cento is a poem composed of lines from various sources, pieced together like a quilt – as its name in Latin, “patchwork,” suggests. If you’ve been keeping a notebook, you can mine it to write a cento. If not, go on the lookout for many disparate lines and then stitch them up into a poem.

Your Mirror

What do you look at in your mirror?
What thoughts embed your mind?
To look upon yourself with doubt
Someone you see reflecting back at you
To look like a stranger you have never seen.
What do you think is what you thought you knew?
Now whittles and chips at your soul
Will your thoughts include what you know?
To move on in the coming years.

Empty Thoughts

My mind is empty of thoughts
Like looking in an empty glass of water
Where there is no drop left to drink.
I seem to stare at the world
Not knowing if my mind is alive or dead.
Trying to call upon some voice
That seems distance and far away
Wanting to close in on it and have it brighten my mind
Like lighting a candle in a darken room with no windows.
How to fill thoughts that struggle through the dense
Network of nerves to reach the mind
That sometimes seem like it has gone on a vacation
Or too busy to organize the thoughts
In some coherent way to understand
My mind feels empty and lost
In trying to find its way.