Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


Free Verse Introspection Poems | Free Verse Poems About Introspection

These Free Verse Introspection poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Introspection. These are the best examples of Free Verse Introspection poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Free verse | |

A Long Loud Sigh

genius?
sometimes you are in its minimal spotted light...sometimes!
other times you just know you've been touched and you freeze,
moved but frozen...like a stranger it moves in, does its work and leaves.

...maybe it's been a while since you two spoke...
when the dead sea still hosted life,
the hanging gardens of babylon grew in sinc with the breath of the planet,
before the tower of pisa started to lean or mayan buildings were in ruin.

so you write words...any words...they might at least soothe your hurt
hold your heart in a protective shield.
you know how crippling unrequited love can be.
do you still dream of its hug...genius?

life and love share more than a first letter
(like the first letter you wrote under the veil of inspiration).
they also share good and evil...it's a flip of the coin.
either way is fine with you. you'd bathe in holy water or sell your soul.
life, love...passion...somewhere in there...it lives, genius.

all of nature a reflection through its transparent figure glows dark 
like the shadows live in the radiant illumination of evening rays.

so let me speak of us!
recently when i tried to hold you...
you were like a ghost in the bright of day,
a phantom out of its element...
there was nothing of you...i could embrace.
when i tried to enter you a freezing cold ran through me like a winter brook.
you exhaled me 
as if i were fog on a deserted country road invisible to absent eyes.
still you were my drug of choice.
addicted, i chased the dragon...you...genius.

memories fill me...
days when we would paint words,
stitch in a metaphor or two,
weave in music, 
write instruments to fill in the spaces,
ordain a voice.

i remember...

you wanted to taste me
i was overwhelmed 
how you put your fingers on my lips 
how you licked them...you...genius.

you were that giant pine i would climb in the dead of winter
(why do they say that "the dead of winter"? winter will die 
when hell freezes over. winter isn't death it's purgatory.)
the one with the needles that punctures human skin.

come to me again and touch me...
like the butterfly does the wind...barely but thoroughly.
(is it true that just a tiny flutter of their wings could be 
the start of a hurricane? are the icebergs melting?)
i didn't just write that out loud...did i...with you I'm shy...genius.

GENIUS?

fine!
hide.
don't show yourself.
don't speak to me.
fine!

don't bother with rising the sun today.
forget those showers you create your magic arc with,
vacuum away all the plants.
lower your wall of blue.
i'm not interested anymore in those pillowy shapes i use to love so.

i've always known it is fire that cleanses, water that burns,
it is the moon that breaks the heart,
the stars that slaps the face...with...i don't know...reality.
i've always known by the time we see a star...
in real time...it's already extinguished...already dead.

it is our friends that will use us...our heroes that will lie to our face...
our blood will betray our trust...our teachers will fail us...
our leaders treat us like just another job...
the devout that will exhibit hatred.

still i believe. no matter what else...the rose will always survive.
the petals deceiving. they will repel all that is unholy.
grab it by the neck and squeeze out its black ooze,
leaving a gentle soul there to admire its adversary.
don't even get me started on the orchid
or even the flowers all...alphabetically.

i dare confront the beauty of nature's art unframed...
canvas loose to admire...genius!

i miss you but i am out of tears.
do drop in though. 
i can offer you a cup of dry warmth...
soothing like burning logs that crackle with laughter.

or 

take you to my secret place.
behind the camouflage of forests dense,
where vines grow through spiral staircases 
made of turtle shells and dressed in discarded snake skins.
green is the theme there. it is everywhere,
unabridged, unabated, unaffected, undisturbed 
with a fuming, burning, yearning to be touched.
so let's...let's grab...hold...squeeze..
feel free from the cheap paradigm offered.

i don't think you know, even while you sleep, i hold your hand, genius.

dream a full rainbow on a fingernail moon night,
feel february twenty ninth its absolute might,
taste fully the slight of a pheasant in flight,
yearn eternal life, wish a vampire's bite,
concoct rhymes nicely fluffed with built in sight.

genius?
on this sombre morning the sun is blinding.
damn my eyes.
there is a negative entity drapes our children's world.
shame on us...shame on you...i need you.
i am reduced to an objective observer.
life glides on the little wings of its carrier,
its final resting point in the hands of the wind.
another life carried away on a worker bee,
busy stealing nectar from a succulent bud.
a stowaway hangs on for dear life to the flyers leg.
gets off at the next flower.
meets up with a companion to create a new life.

genius?,
everything changed when I met you.
was the sun rising or the mountain sinking.
was that an orange globe against a blue sky
or a lit round hole in a sad wisp of air.

i'll play a keyless piano if you'll paint me a horizon I can reach.
i'll sing you a ballad with a single note...

i walked into my life without consideration.
maybe crawled.
all the same...
when do I get a choice.
when will they stop holding death over my head.

if i could direct a few more plays with you as my guide...
my art, my life! genius i long for your influence...
even one last time to see your face, 
unite and give you one last kiss...goodnight.




April 1 2015
Maurice Yvonne
Sponsor:Tyshawn Knight
Contest Name:Knight Writer's Club Grand Opening







Details | Free verse | |

I Think Of You - Where You Bloom - 4


A transparent melody paints the walls
in the coloured scent of fresh linen.

The changing of sheets in the morning air
can not erase our dance from evening last.

Outside a late spring asleep too long
with no blooms until June, awakens.

Fully opened September flowers 
perfume late night conversations.

Looking outside reveals
only one set of footsteps in both directions.

The days when I would watch you walk,
lagging behind with a smile.

The moss grows wild in the forest...
trees surrounded by families of mushrooms.

The word "family" 
so I...

An I for an I
and soon the whole world will be in love.

How I long your hug,
your body encompassing mine.

God exists
no greater proof...

With a single tear I
lay flowers where you bloom...and I

i think of you.




March 20 2015
Armand



Details | Free verse | |

I Think Of You - After The Fall - 5

I could have cried like a bride at a funeral
Bled out, dry. I could have but I was already
dehydrated...I

i think of you

I wish someone could turn the 
moon back on, turn the dimmer back up
on the stars. I can't stand these dark 
black nights void of even one tiny ray 
of light. I am tired of walking blind through
the evenings of my everyday life...I

i think of you

Yesterday I dreamt the night sky exploded.
Bright white pinholes of light appeared .
It was as if an invisible hand was holding a huge 
Fourth of July sparkler against a waterfall of black gold.
I watched the oil well blaze. The whole Earth was on fire.
The world was burning hot. Without fear I walked through 
the flames warm, comforted as if I was being held in his light...I

i think of you

Still in the grip of my sleep suddenly an ocean appears.
its water rises and shapes itself like the head of a dragon.
Its neck is shaped like a Chinese silk fan. At the same time 
it is just a huge wave. The kind surfers expect to find in heaven.
There is nothing threatening about this apparition.
Quite the opposite like the fire it feels as if it is a part of me...I

i think of you

Do I miss you? 
Miss you? I died with you! 
There's a knock at my door but I'm not here.
Life's going to have to wait. I'm in hiding.
I feel safe inside my walls. In reality my bedroom light
is all the outdoors I need. It is my Sun. I hate here without you. 
So I lie in my bed motionless starring into my nothingness and I...

i think of you

(Frozen!)

As time passes...introspective...I begin to understand.
The earth, the air, the fire, the water all the elementals are him. 

(I begin to thaw!)

He is with me even in my ignorance he has never left me. 
You can take the lord into your heart without a word by accepting his light.

(Slightly cold!)

A deeper, purer understanding. A trust that rejects the dark no 
matter how black. I am a part of all, a part of one as you are. A part of me. 

(Warm!)

I open my curtains...watch the dark exit
hurried as love rushes in. Firmly in his hold...I

I think of you...

Once again with you.
Fully! We...the power of one...I 

I think of us.

The Beginning!


March 25 2015
Armand





Details | Free verse | |

I Think Of You - Upon Reflection - 3


A reflection of the coloured pencil drawn sky
skates on the glass smooth surface below it.
While a rebellious group of shades take their positions 
on a glorious stage to express themselves artistically and
I...

i think of you

Wisps of clouds shaped like a palm leaf
fan the winds that stoke the fire
of a randomly sketched sunset.
I...

i think of you

The cool of an ocean breeze 
travels the shadows of this low lit evening.
Caresses my skin like the essence of romance.
Enthralled by the allure of a candle lit sky,
I...

i think of you...

Our French Bakery early mornings.
Café au lait and croissants.
Our freesia soaked baths.
Your mink soft body.
Its milk and honey scent.

As I fall off 
the edge of the world,
I...

i think of you.




March 19 2015
Armand





Details | Free verse | |

I Think Of You - Ground Zero - 1

I Think Of You - Ground Zero (Part 1)

Leaving under a blood moon
                in a jet plane rising
  los angeles falls behind me
and I...

You.
Two.

                              Clouds dance
            to the song of the spiders.
Latent sun rays fall on me like rain...I 

...They say third time's the charm.
On planes again.
A sky...endless... and then finally 
from the other end of the world to here.
A continent, an island,
an australian flower drunk on wine.
Her...uniqueness lends to her beauty.
...and I

A fourth night.
A church spire at sunset.
At a distance bats fill the sky,
resemble a smoke plume.
...I 

I plead the fifth.
It's all these moons.
Tonight a hunter's moon.
She's unable to hide 
even with her bowl of clouds.
It's no help.
She has no spoon.
                     Her luminous rays give her up.
Moonshine in the moonlight over the sea.
...I 

I count...five, 
six...on the beach.
A purple nightshade,
a sand flower,
Irish eyes speak uniquely to me.
....I 

I, you...
you can't roll a seven with one die.

Back on a plane.
A snow fog blinding.
From my window seat a one of a kind view.
Alone,
...I

 I eight...ate...need to eat.

Africa...a Safari.
A plant chloroform green
has holes like cheese.
A large swiss leaf.
I laugh and I...I distract myself.

A stitch in time beats nine.
 Back in North America.
A dilapidated fortress stares down 
an overwhelming thunderhead.
...I 

I camp out.
It requires a tenth...tent.
An Eagle never blinks.
No eye lids.
An unimpeded view.

...but I...I surrender.
There is no place in the world
I can escape.
...I 

i think of you.

You are living art.
Here.
Now.
What I perceive 
is what I live.
I perceive us.

I can picture you.
I am photography,
the camera, the lens.
I absorb your image,
process it.
A form of plagiarism

I didn't borrow.
I stole.
Inhaled you but 
...I
I dream
and I...

...i think of you.



Armand
March 11 2015





Details | Free verse | |

I Think Of You - But I - 2

The rain outside plays games with the webs that cloud my mind,
I think I hear a tune. A drum solo that heralds memories buried deep
and sealed in concrete. Even the locked safe with five feet deep of steel
can not resist the lightning strike of the Goddess of Thunderstorms...I

...i think of you.

A pain from yesteryears thought dead rises from the ashes...

I think...No! 
No! I will fight this.
Forget when I flew too close to the sun 
my feathered wings singed.

I fight...I do...I try...I do...but I...

i think of you...

You,
your fresh baked sugar cookie scent,
your China Doll moonlight white complexion.

I think of you...and I...I weep

I on the mountain, exposed
as vultures tear at my flesh.
Devour my organs like so much fodder 
and everyday whole again...
the creatures hover to start anew.

In my sorrow,
in my physical pain 
I attempt to resist...but I...

i think of you.

Iodine flows through my veins.
My screams echo.
My blood drenched tears 
flow like a mountain stream
and i pray
and i whisper the word "mercy"

and still...

still...I

i think of you.



March 16 2015
Armand



Details | Free verse | |

Hot And Cold Comes The Night


LIST POETRY - A FUTURISTIC INTERPRETATION You must know I cried yesterday and I think I broke the world so I braided some words into twine planted some sweet and sour coated seeds I grew free standing expressions and then I joined them with left over thread to present these interlocking pieces in their proper order regardless of the number they wear in an attempt to confuse and deceive. I offer this humble list for your reading enjoyment It is an honour to have you visit my page. The pleasure I assure you is all mine WORDS ON PAPER - THE LIST FIVE I loved you centuries before we were born. You lived in my dreams before I ever slept. When others wasted time picking flowers I waited for when it was time to pick you. Love calls you in the natural scent of your partner. You'd feel their touch in the vacuum of outer space. Your desire for them would melt away the ice age. I want to find a door in the brightest part of the sky I could open to erase what was, to shine a light so bright it, like a book of golden words, would write ideas so vital as to eradicate even a suggestion of our mournful past. I want to be that magician who does not bother with illusion but rather heals wounds and shatters burden. TWO We were at the fair, joviality in the air. A memory filed, I was a young child holding balloons floating round like full moons in vivid colours bright. Fixed on this joyous sight I was on Cloud Nine proud these were mine. If I had not let go of them. If I hadn't watched them as they flew higher and higher as my heart sunk lower and lower I might of never learnt what it felt like - hurt. Hope gloats, hope floats. either your way or just away. THREE sometimes the afternoon sun is.....too hot to walk barefoot........on the concrete path still even then.......I refuse to wear my hat I guess I'll never change, I'm just like that. sometimes when I jump in the lake in late summer... with all of my clothes on...I do it in the evening......as I go down...way down to the bottom...there's a gentle peace overtakes me..I want to stay down like a rock... revel in the ecstasy...not swim back up..........not ever SEVEN ours was a paper mâché love living in a cut out cardboard home with a macaroni art painted lawn and nothing real to call our own nothing solid that we could hold. we tried stacking lego bricks but you have to be able to pop your cheek to qualify as a kid - to get a license to build. the castle we assembled didn't pass the test. so much for fairy tales - hello reality check. we rolled the dice but our thimble went straight to jail and our mouse ended up trapped. can you hear that buzzing the operation failed. where are you going? your tricycle is still in the shop and I might as well tell you..............I have no eights................."go fish!" we fell through the bunny hole where i - jack fell ddddownnn nnnnnnn and broke my crown and you - jill came tumbling aaaaaaaaaaafterrrrrrrrrrrrrrr EIGHT it is a choreographed ballet our love stands strong legs at the base digging deep build roots delicate hands branched out reach high long slim fingers define twigs draw space the body of our trunk thick sweet filled music fills our human needs one sound wind pixies dance meticulously the air sunlight leaks effectively through dark spots lifts carries holds and shapes our smiles it is a choreographed ballet our love in sync our bodies their senses once immersed in I now us ONE I know the last thing I want to feel as I leave this world, it is your lips on mine. When I take my last breath I want to feel yours with its loving touch. NINE Always, no matter the roar or intensity of the storm how severe the attack even out of the norm Always, i offer my hand with sincerity aim to deal with it peacefully. Always! SIX then suddenly it hits like a swarm of locus. a deep dark manifestation that greases my mind my very existence in its unforgiving sense of doom. every bone stiffens, when I move, a sound of dead dried out forest twigs breaking against the boots of hikers echoes in the confined space of my skull. i reach for a pill slowly it dissolves under my tongue i wait and i wait and i wait ... my body is soaked in a sweat with its own cold and hot tap. i assume the position, lying on an unstable floor. the creature depression is now in full control of my faculties. this too i will survive ...that is what i do...what i do...this is what i do.......somehow i survive. FOUR there is a deafening hush... silently raging through the core of my existence...still...I am humbled by the light and the love I have witnessed in my brief appearance...........here on Earth there is a river...that walks at my side... walks with me........at the same stride... April 14 2015 Armand


Details | Free verse | |

Footprints

Frothy waves stretch to kiss toes
Hikers plodding sandy coasts
Leaving imprints on the shore

Who journeyed here, perhaps this morn
As the orange orb created dawn
Summoning sun worshipers

Footprints far too large to fill
Descended down the shell-strewn hill
Then hugged the waves’ low tide

The retirement community
Sends scouts here daily just to see
If the sands of time still wait

Alas, they do, imprints remain
Sacrificed to sea when evening tide returns again

Their legacies erased each day
Another scout, another age
Will surely cast its prints anew


Details | Free verse | |

AS FATHER IS TO HIS DAUGHTER


Passing through framed windows like ours, I recall your tales of reckless war and lost friends that burned your innocence at 21... and though you claimed flashes of courage, moist eyes poured vulnerability looking calm, undaunted. We both searched deeply into our souls as a father is to his young daughter, that I wanted to let you know, it was alright; but that mound of shoulders turned away. Down the years as officer and gentleman, Time stole long weeks, absent from your dining chair, leaving me resentful and bitter on hardened sills until you arrive under crawling dock of stars. But in free moments, how you cherished me so; waking my cheeks at 3 am to race the winds, to fly with a shooting neon, laughing with a blue moon. You spoke of faith and honor if life dared a shame, oh mild scent of your arms cuddling my girlish dreams... until off you rode suddenly on heaven’s wheel. I see you through all framed windows like ours, that even if my iced breaths needed you more as small flowers thirsted for rain, my anger was a cry for love’s company... “ I have adored you in moments of distance and nearness, if not always, then for all eternity.” Have I forgotten to open this, my soft, broken sigh? Dad, everything is all right. The Confessional Contest


Details | Free verse | |

Another Man's Clothes

I wonder
Who I might become
If I wore another man's clothes
If I thought his thoughts
Dreamed his dreams
Lived his heartache
Felt his insanity
Walked along his razor's edge

Would I
Understand
Empathize
Digest his pain
Rise above his circumstances
Would I realize how easy my own life has been

Perhaps
I could search through his pockets
Look for answers
Remove the tie from his neck that strangles
Rip off the clothes that make the man
Return his sanity
Free him from the labels sewn on yesterday's promises

Or I could walk
A bit longer
Search a bit deeper
Discard my own misconceptions
Feel his peace
Think different thoughts
For he is more and less than me
He has danced and loved in exceptional ways
And as I walk and wear his shoes
I hear the tapping of his soul
I become
Aware
It is not him
Not me
Not anyone
That can save us
From ourselves
Yet we are changed
In inexplicable ways
By wearing
Another man's clothes


I chose this one for your contest because I feel as 
a poet I put myself in other people's clothes all the time.
I like the premise of this contest and I hope this gives you
a glimpse of who I am. 

Richard Lamoureux
Submited December 20 2013
written in early December.


Details | Free verse | |

AS TWELVE MONTHS CLOSE


I count my walks through herbs and shells never knowing how old bones can be fleshed from a heart bound on scrolls of endings, and here I am among rows of an orchard… feet like dust sanded by twelve months of famine and feast ; somehow the maple boughs wither from the laundry of evenings’ regret. Often times, like the gypsy rose, I climb into the lattice of my family tree smelling its tar and citrus that knit arms glossed by twilight’s love, then raked by froths of autumn’s debris. Closing a fence as another year shuts off, I am between silence and scream… eyes groaning with the music of an anonymous breeze sheltering a collected beauty of tragedy and the comedy of drama: trials pinned by veiled nights when kinship endures the flood of weather's hands. It is so, I mean, the certainty of taming the last ride before new seeds from a new year twirl upon unborn fruits… I disrobe the old bones to greet the unknown. .......................... "“In times of test, family is best.” – Burmese Proverb Carol Eastman's Enter The Best of 2014 Contest by nette onclaud 7/14/2014


Details | Free verse | |

Intangible

There was change, a new pulse, cadence, rhythm and tone, where mother had been, the only place I had known Where two maples stretched out, to cradle my dreams, and shelter my life, in the house I called home On a make-shift bed, I was lying awake, Windows cracked open, a wind coming in, .... Intangible nights, in the familiar old room, alone with my thoughts, while sorting out things... There was a strange, jaundice glow, from the porch light, left on, and my pillow felt cold, where the moon used to go The sound of a moth, batting wings against glass, was begging for warmth, while seeking to ask, a place that made sense And a place to fit in My father was sleeping, with his newlywed bride in the same sacred bed, where my mother had died And a new child was dreaming in the soft yellow room where I spent all those nights, ... just me and the moon I was happy for him, and for the child that he gained. I was there at his side, when the changes became.. a part of his life, ...... a part of mine too But, I was lost in the amber, like a moth batting wings Somehow, it's alright, now, where shadows are new. As the sepia light, has changed and renewed I am older, and stronger, much older than then,... Although, still a moth seeking flame... batting my wings, resisting the change, ....again, and again
__________________________________ For Craig Cornish's Contest: "Chopped II" 11/3//14


Details | Free verse | |

Spaces

As my thoughts shrink my mind expands
Growing into the spaces between my words
The words of others
Refreshed within the pauses
Dancing inside possibilities
Filling in the blanks

Words suspended
Within time and space
Connecting the random with the infinite 
Skipping along
Flowing through in whispers

The spaces 
Reflecting eternal promises
Stepping stones along elastic highways
Breaths yet to be exhaled
Here I grasp for inked pleasure

My resting place
along inspiration's highway
My moments of calibration 
Synaptic revelations
Hallways leading to ancient corridors
The place where all artist meet

Each space, appears the same
To those unable to see
They can't feel the symphony
Yet, we who live, within the spaces
Rise together
Give applause
A world expanded from the small
An opening within word walls
Rising to float, upon the breeze
They lift our mind with subtle ease
Come and join me please
I have space 
I have room
Within my spaces
For you








Details | Free verse | |

A Mountain's Challenge

majestic he seems, staring down at me with provocative, charcoal cavern eyes challenging me to forge upward massive boulders, slippery streams and fallen trees arduous obstacles he puts before me shall I take his dare perhaps ascending a few steps closer to cerulean heaven reach out to touch the kaleidoscope rainbow an arc above this complex journey’s struggle or is communing with the universal consciousness beyond reach will I step, slip, stumble and fall if I climb, seeking to prove myself finding visions of self awareness as he urges me on only to wonder why I see nothing but myself in a shroud of misty grey loneliness at the peak far easier it would be to lay my head upon the verdant meadow’s grassy pillow content to admire him from afar rather than challenge myself to win his approval gratify my ambitious nature what satisfaction will come if I remain complacent in my life’s lackluster station never growing, never knowing what might have been if I’d listened to his provocative voice
*Written July 30, 2014


Details | Free verse | |

Around The Corner

around the corner...just! light brilliant...trees freshly brushed... a breeze meandering through the grass... a baby blue sky, an occasional cloud shaped and reshaped, ...a waterfall roars like a lion...its spray soft as a lamb. around the corner...Just a lovers breath against my neck...a lover's lies, an ego lift...a seat on that pedestal men dream of... a bold kiss...an us in a crowd...a lazy summer day outdoor chairs...an overhead fan, an open door around the corner...Just, rollerblades...a mountain bike, a jaunt in the park, a movie house...a why not...an invigorate, a swim in a freezing cold lake... a restaurant night...an evening walk, a club... dancing...karaoke...being a little wild... so many images paint my mind... bittersweet  ...my thoughts march one by one to want something so bad  to fear it at the same time Just around the corner  I get back my life, just... Around the corner  the loss of a life,  just around the corner... yes I need to do that now, yes I can wait longer yet... responsible for her... consumes the life I knew the actors, the stage, the lights, the set, the techs, a play, my life flow...directing stage. Just around the corner my life waits for me impatiently Just...! Around that same corner, death waits for her patiently Be careful what you wish for... Around the corner...just around the corner two tears wait for me one joyous...one mournful  Around the corner I want to be Around the corner wait for me  not yet, caring for my mother...still she lives, I can wait,  I can wait...
10~13~2014 Sponsor: Francine Roberts Contest Name: Around the Corner ...


Details | Free verse | |

The Words That flow Through My Pen

Sometimes, life has no reason unlike the seasons
It aimlessly drifts with the wind
We find ourselves in places of unfamiliar faces
Bathing in the shadows of sin
Our souls become lost up in the holocaust
That once was a beautiful life
Like a ship drifting upon the tide we bang and then we ride
The white horse straight into death
Into a giant black hole we dive in with our soul
Until we have nothing left
We then fall prey to our host who spreads butter on our toast
Our habits take over our lives
Everything we hold dear falls with one last tear
Into the darkness of night
Tired and defeated all our hope is depleted
Because we have nothing left to lose
Sometimes the storm passes as slow as molasses
Left frozen somewhere in the snow
Then our red eyes run dry with no tears left to cry
As we admit, I’d rather be dead
If you have a desire to live right, please take heed of my plight
And know that it’s never to late
Soon as you give it away find your knees and pray
You will find the comfort of home
And all of the disgrace will fall off of your face
Like the leaves that fall off the tree
And just like the bare tree soon you will see
Life is reborn in the spring
Like a warm days cool breeze, God fills us with his ease
And through him we find some peace
One day at time the trials all unwind
As the jigsaw falls into place
As everything gets better we become one with the weather
And the seasons suddenly become our friend
Our lives suddenly fly past, because we want to make them last
Like an ice-cream on a really hot day 
We are overcome with the obligation to tell of our salvation
Remembering all of those left behind
Some will find their way, others all we can say
Is Lord, we truly did our best
Dear Lord we write for your glory, telling our stories
That we would rather keep hid on the shelf
Our desire is to aspire so we can rise ever higher
With the words that flow though our pen
Giving of ourselves becomes our greatest wealth
As our souls become one with the Son
No high could be higher than faith and desire
Knowing we have been born again
One day we will stand before the gates that shall open to our fate
As heaven welcomes us in
We will look down on this earth, spirits of a new birth
Watching over the seeds that we spread
Knowing their lives were made better, because we were able to weather
The storm that raged through night 
Until the day I become shadows and dust I'll forever trust
The words that flow through my pen



Details | Free verse | |

She is, or maybe she is not

She found herself
In the shards of who I am
The broken bits
The shadows
The resurrection of yesterday's pauses

I wonder
Was it the happy bits
The quiet contemplations
Or does she exist 
Within the doubts
The abbreviated sentences
The opinions of her own imposters
Those who choose to see her with veiled perceptions
Is she who she wants to be
Or is she in a state of becoming
I try to see past my own limitations

I wade through my wheres
Trying to see where 
Where she has been
Where is she now
Why
Yes I wonder why
Why does she identify with me
I am left to ponder
Contemplate

Who is this woman
With sad happy eyes
Strong in a broken sorta way
Who visits me 
On glowing paper
Graces me with kindness
Chooses to ponder herself
Within my spaces
I will seek her out
For she too
Reveals
Her notes
Sings her spirit
On pure white
Glowing
Paper

Dedicated to Charmaine after she commented on my "I Am" poem.



Details | Free verse | |

Melded

Questions hang suspended like stalactites Time, circumstance and elements contributing to its formation (—then something else seeps in, pushing me to call it fate) Questions that know not whether they should be voiced out and see light ...or remain hidden in caves, destined to be only heard by the labyrinthine chambers of the heart But yes, it is inevitable that these questions d r i p They drip, bit by bit, oozing with curiosity, forming more queries, that turn into stalagmites— Grounded questions to the suspended ones, open-ended to the closed. Sometimes meeting, creating columns, melded complements of each other. And then this makes me wonder— When these questions meet, do they ever find answers within themselves? Will the truth ever be brave enough to come out of hiding? This then makes me think of the words within souls, how these souls are the questions, in search of answers. ...And of how your words, your thoughts, your feelings, can drip into mine, feeding that inner glow It then collects, forming this deluge, flooring me as it creates a bond so powerful, it seems to defy time and even reason. A fascinating influx, that makes me smile despite myself Where sometimes I don’t know the beginning from the end— where bliss swims freely there, immersed in waves of laughter and ripples of tears. This for me is the beauty of it all, the search, the mystery...the discovery That constant ebb and flow, the give and take, that push and pull the flooding and trickling, that hiding and seeking Where one listens as the other speaks, but ah, both feeding off each other— hungry, thirsty, full, satiated yet craving for more. It’s something akin to, but not quite to how sunlight makes way for moon’s glow, how thunder rolls after the lightning strikes, coming hand in hand...yet both so defined. -------------------------------------------------------------- Yes, the questions may still hang like stalactites, and sometimes I do wonder if they will fall— And if they do, will they shatter, piercing hearts as they do? Or will their fates let them stay there, melding with stalagmites, standing the test of time, and sparkling as they do? June 17, 2012


Details | Free verse | |

Thought Police

I'm afraid
So afraid
Of being arrested
By the thought police

Their rules are many
Think this
Think that
Don't diverge from the normal
Stop playing on the street corner of tomorrow
Let sleeping dogs rest
Do not question
Do not burn on passionate bonfires

I watch as they ready their weapons
They display arresting warrants through clouded glass
Fifty shades of bland
Cuffs dangling from bulging belts
Bound in self rightous blunder
They wait outside my door
Screaming bull horns command me to exit my paper freedom
I am blinded by search lights, forced to use my third eye
Fearful of their uniformed presence
How long will they be held at bay?

I hold their preconceptions hostage
They cannot see beyond their script
Trained in the warfare of ignorance 
They say "who are you, to question our authority?"

I answer
"I am the poet
The one who dreams beyond here and now
My words push through yesterday like a plow!
Yet I am gentle like the rain
Equal parts of pleasure and pain
A powerful detergent
I remove ancient stains
With my words I shake the ground
I will not be stopped by another's sound
Arrest me, yet you can't stop what I think
Within my mind I determine what I drink."

The thought police
Turn to another
The writings of our sisters and brothers
They wait, with cuffs in hand
Unable to understand
The few
The many
Who have joined hands
The poets
The thinkers
We take a stand



Inspired by Eileen Ghali's poem "The Hidden Woman"

Catie Lindsay's Heart of the matter contest.


Details | Free verse | |

I Think Of You - A Horrendous Night - 0

I Think Of You - A Horrendous Night (Part 0)

Two a.m....
I open my window 

...a crack,

the dark is blinding.

It is a severe cold outside 
a stream of freezing air seeps in.

Two fifteen a.m....
I open my window another crack,

struggling to sleep...!

Eyes closed, 
I count from one thousand to one
it might as well be ten thousand.

Still not use to a lonely bed
six of my senses explode like
a dandelion globe in a tornado...I 

i think of you.

Raise the white flag,
wait the sunrise.
Wasn't it an eon ago 
I drank the sunset?

It's never lost on me 
I always ingest miracles slowly.

It's freezing cold now in my room...I think!
I feel everything...I feel nothing.

My face buried in both my hands...I

i think of you...


Armand
March 11 2015






Details | Free verse | |

When the Sun Sets on Me


I wonder where I will be 
when the sun sets on me…
for if I were a flake of snow,
a dying breeze, or autumn leaf...
then I’d know.
I am but a blink of a father’s eye
desperate for answers to my words and rhymes
waiting for another world or God to intercede, 
in what may come or ever may be.

I wonder where I will be 
when the moon rises over me...
for if I were shadows in a cave,
a cricket, star, or ocean wave...
then I'd know.
I am but a drop of rain on a summer night
vaporizing where I fall and touch,
waiting for clouds and sky to again define me;
not knowing who I ever was or aimed to be.

If I am clay in my Maker’s hands…pliable, yielding, 
I wonder where my own will comes to end
and where His fingers start forming me
into the masterpiece He desires me to be.
All the answers dancing gracefully,
from omnipotence and my need to be free…

I wonder where I’ll be, when I start to 
speak, live, breathe, dance….fearlessly.
If I were air and sea, with all of Heaven shining on me,
then, I’d know…    


Details | Free verse | |

Things That Seemed Poetic

Things that seemed poetic were always sad,
though I yearned for sparkle
and my dad's guffaw, which never came.
Familiar things were always drear --
repeated motions in the same old game.
There were only distant glimpses
of budding spring, fleeting views
of daffodils. The strongest
poems dealt me death and dying.
Yet I always hoped, never went under
to gray despair, always dreaming
of a garden of love that we could share.
But those forbidden delights faded
quickly away; the only reality
I understand is the ever-looming
and final one. Nothing's changed.
The strongest poems deal death and dying.


Details | Free verse | |

Didn't Don't

.

Didn't Don't
Somebody keeps pulling on the rope to swing the bells
   didn't don't       
            didn't don't
Don't touch it. Don't say it. Don't do it. Don't doubt it. Don't think.

Somebody handcuffs my steps. Somebody determines my boundaries.
Before I fully understand free will, there is a slap on my head
      and phosphenes like stars that command my orbit.
Before I can recognize differences, there is a slap on my hand
      right hand, not left hand...never ambidextrous; 
      and time out is isolation without a trial...and I learn
                               the fear of wrongdoing
                               remote-controlling my existence,
conditional on demand, predesigned
      and easily
      and obviously
      frightened
An aborted freedom escaping into the sewer
trying not to get it on the seat

I'm the observer of other lives, not mine               
tied up and chained, in captivity 
attempting to prove an alibi 
                    for being alive.
No one cares
not even myself

Somebody pulls on the rope to swing the bells
   didn't don't       
           didn't don't
It's dirty. It's ugly. It's bad. It's poo. It's sin.

commitments, commandments... Commandments, Commitments
                               Salvation... Damnation
Sometimes deception makes them ring in a low tone. Sometimes
I do what they say, and not what they do, and not what I want, and not what I think.

                 Through   fragments   of   this   duplicity,
                                               and   this   duplicity, 
I would be able to rebuild myself,
                                and Myself, into another hypocritical being;
and the intentional perversion of the self proclaimed truth,
                                or the liar paradox,
                                will be sovereign
leading to the use of tricks and cotton swabs.

When the remorseless hours run counterclockwise,
I would be happy through imaginary experiences,
consistently depurated,
consistently believed to be true.
             
Would I dare to examine the society in which I've been educated and raised?
Would I dare rip my skin...my flesh off of my bones?
How could I blame them? How could I possibly judge them?
Order and obedience in confabulation...in conspiracy...in complicity

If somebody keeps pulling on the rope to swing the bells
If I'm the only one guarding my own cell
If I'm the jailer, and the convict, and the crime.


.



Details | Free verse | |

You and I and I and You

You, who are so perfect in my eyes, so beautiful- adorable, and I, so flawed, ugly, damaged and crawling with defects; why do you enjoy my company? 

You, who are so sleek and slender, humming with a quiet intellect and a serenity about you, and I, so grossly overweight and pretentiously boastful and nervous; how can you abide my company?

You, who are a paragon of patience, so understanding and self-assured, and I, so insanely impulsive, so myopic and brimming with self-doubt; how do you stand my company?

You, who are so sweet, so considerably kind, so thoughtful and generous, and I, so bitter, so selfish, so self-absorbed; why do you choose my company?

You, who are so self-composed, full of self-control, so sound and stable, and I, so very neurotic, so completely compulsive and verily volatile; how can you tolerate my company?

You, who are so diligent, so driven and ambitious, so achieving, and I, so lackadaisically lazy, so uninspired, so complacent; why do you settle for my company?

You, who are ethical, so moral, so very virtuous, and I, so corrupt, so unprincipled, so wholly wicked; how can you endure my company?

You, who are so normal, so well-adjusted, so conventional, and I, so maniacal, so unbalanced and irrational; why do you condone my company?

You, who are bubbling with charm, who loves unconditionally and is absolutely accepting, and I, boiling with rage, fueled by misanthropy and incredibly intolerant; how can you welcome my company?

That you love and accept me for who and what I am, is a treasure beyond measure. I cherish your company, but why you cherish mine is something I cannot fathom. All I know is that I love you, my dear, beloved friend.

**This was written for two very dear friends: Karen and Tommy :)
***I also love palindromes ;)

*****FREE VERSE OLD AND NEW ENTRY


Details | Free verse | |

Burn

What powers held me in this tortured love
Shame and excitement danced around me
Grasped by the cunning illusions, deceiving
My void self image, coercing my
Vanities until I believed the insideous lies

You robbed my soul, knowing
Your presence was sealed with death's kiss
Tossing and turning in the night
I let you back in no matter the cost

Oh, and this is good -
I pretended not to be hostage to your
Cunning facade of empty promises
Even letting you linger in the presence
Of my most cherished posessions
As they also became sick in your stench

Finally, enough denial and nearly destroyed
Still strong enough to rid myself of you
I see you for what you really are, a drag
Killer of desire, coaxing many
Also blinded by your evil

In the last hours of whatever life I have left
And the coffin is near, I'll wonder 
Why I let you hold me for so long










Details | Free verse | |

KARMA



Fluted hands angle on knees as glimpses 
sort the knitted threads of a late afternoon
where gathering of blooms abide.
Almost friendless, a man inhabits his space
ready to inhale the waft of new dusk, 
of how a world in his inner terrain mirrors
the ceremonials of a mindful passage
upon grasses and half-lit windows
outside the self. 

And through a prayerful instance,
he connects with a god hushing the tempo
of sighs mixed with incense blowing, as if 
to twirl in an air of breaths cleansing
the scabs of trespasses. Miles of babel words
turn into a different language: quite unknown
and understood only by him who finds
contentment in being unbound ,of gliding 
above a haloed sky that reflects the movement
inside his awakened essence.

For the atonement of all misgivings,
he releases his pride in layers 
of deep confession to pay for his karmic debt;
that in a warm communion with humility
he makes amends for life's consequences

as stillness becomes his friend.


Anthony Slausen's Karma


Details | Free verse | |

I am or maybe I am not

I am
Still I wonder
Who I am
Am I who
Am I what
Am I where
Am I here
I am
Yet I am not
My words travel beyond myself
I am made up of small and large
Sometimes broken discarded pieces

I am not
Who you think I am
I am one who lives between the spaces
Of those words you choose to describe me with
Perceptions gleaned
Through abbreviated sentences
Those moments I bored you with my existance
You were too busy being yourself
How could you ever know me

I am the one who can see
For I am a watcher
I am present in the silence
I am quiet
Do not confuse silence with weakness
I am who I choose to be
I am not a slave to the trivial
I am not one confined by convention
Those things I am supposed to strive for
They hold no allure for me

I am a free man
Free to think as I think
My thoughts remain my own
For your questions rarely greet my ears
When they do
I answer
I am willing
Yet you are unable to hear
For you think
You alone hold the answers
So I smile
For if nothing else
I am pleasant
I am polite
I am not thought of as bold
I am to you 
Who you think I am

I am
For a time
What I want to be
Other times
What is expected of me
Sometimes 
What confuses
What limits me
What shrinks
What trancends
What I hope is good for me
I am selfish for generous reasons
I am willing to give lavishly
I am what and who I need to be
Today I am different than yesterday 
Yet at my core
I am still me

I am where I've been placed
For the time I'm needed here
I am at the intersection of belonging and alone
I am temporary and eternal
I am living where angels fear to tread
For I am human
I am flawed
I am willfully questioning God
I am on the verge of disappearing
Only Jesus truly knows who I am
He knows where my thoughts travel
How I have used who I am
To coerece others
To see me 
As different than I am
More perfect
Less fearful 
Confident
Insightful
So I say
Here I am
Naked
Exposed to your elements
Willing to risk it all
Here and now

Will you look close
Ask me your questions
Reserve your judgement
I am meant to be
Here and now
For in knowing who I am
You can begin to discover 
Who you are!

For Frank Herrera's " I Am" contest.


Details | Free verse | |

POETRY READING

I cried the first time I listened to the words
whispered    shouted    snapping about 
like flags in a brisk wind     Words being shot 
from open pink mouths in a staccato hail of bullets 
slamming into my barriers     Hairline cracks appearing 
in my armor like spider webs meandering across 
a bug splattered windshield
I cried    even though I was not sure why

Who would have thought there was so much ammunition
being ratcheted from dry throats to be chambered
in mouths    spewing forth in a fusillade of fire
So much raw emotion housed inside ordinary people  

I found life    
emotion    feelings running rampant
bouncing off brick walls
echoing in my sluggish soul
wakening banked embers of a life 

I remember this thing called poetry
it danced through the dreams of my youth
brought hesitantly to its feet when I read
Resume by Dorothy Parker

I dreamed that I could put words onto paper 
and evoke emotion in another person
I dreamed and I played with the words
my new best friends    and drank Orange Crush 
spilling it on my early attempts    
giving them the appearance of measles erupting 
from the white parchment of youthful skin

But the words proved to be too much for me
		too much me
Emotions I did not know I had locked inside me
Fear flowing unchecked in dark splotches
Sorrow ripping the page with blunt forceful strokes 
of the pen     I tried to use a pencil but the feelings 
inside me were too strong to be erased so easily
Now the silence of my soul has been illuminated 
by the sun the poets hold in their hands
I could have ignored soft moonlight ripples 
across my mind    but this sun snakes its way 
into every crevice    finding my imps and demons 
standing mutely shadowed in gray

The homeless beggars on my street of lost memories
are rising up with pen in hand    refusing 
to be slapped into silent submission any longer



Details | Free verse | |

Mixing Of The Bones

If we could peel back the blanket of earth
To expose the bones buried there

Mix them all up in a great big pile
To say they'd all look the same would be fair

The rich man, the poor, the blind and the weak
Each gender, religion and race

The short, the tall, the large and the small
And include every shape of the face

If we had to choose one bone at a time
Not knowing who's bones belonged to whom

To make ourselves over new again
I wonder how well we'd do

Not judging by color, size or shape
Or status of high IQ

The bones might fit together just fine
And stay together till the end of time

©Donna Jones



Details | Free verse | |

My Last Wish

If only I can ask the world
To gather all the love
Each person has.

If only I can feel the love
Free of inhibitions in some extent 
And share it with everyone.

If only I can be 
With the love of yours
So that I can have my last wish.

If you permits me to  live and die 
Unconditionally with and without you
Oneness reflected indeed.