Treasure Island

ary bolanos

(april 18,1970 / houston, tx)

That There's God


Parallel Lines is a theory
Man will never truly make Parallel Lines

That sort of Perfection

Something we can't obtain
But, still desire
That place we'll never get to
But, keep searching for
The thing we'll never hold
Yet, we're still grasping for it
The thing we know exist
But, cannot find

That there's God

That light in the darkness
But, it's still dark
Your mind of all minds
And, you're nothing but heart
A feeling of company
With no friends to find
Always looking for something
And, only seeing signs

That there's God

Submitted: Monday, May 16, 2011
Edited: Tuesday, November 05, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poet's Notes about The Poem

This was inspired by a scene in the movie Leaves of Grass with Edward Norton.

Comments about this poem (That There's God by ary bolanos )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. KEEP AWAY FROM MY BRIMMING BOWL, Om Chawla
  2. I Seen, Jose Torres Junior
  3. I Seen..., Jose Torres Junior
  4. Duet, John deVries
  5. Chuh, John deVries
  6. Blurry, Jose Armando Guzman
  7. Salome (Rubiyat sonnet), Gert Strydom
  8. See everything pure, gajanan mishra
  9. When I hold you tightly against me, Gert Strydom
  10. the gramophone record, Somanathan Iyer

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]