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Introspection Free Verse Poems | Free Verse Poems About Introspection

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

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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

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 | |

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 Charlotte Puddifoot's Open Free Verse Contest 7/14/2014


Details | Free verse | |

Immersion

The scurry and flurry of thoughts
hound me
jabbing, stabbing 
so I seek comfort 
in the ebb and flow...

I do not rush and dive in.
Rather,
I let myself
slip softly...
easing myself carefully into 
the saline calm 

fingerlings of froth
licking my skin

Only my face,
save for my ears,
greet frigid air

All the rest of me
just wants to
drown out
drawn out
waves
of thoughts
and words

It's not enough
to mute everything
so


I take that deep breath
and sink myself 
deep
   deep
          er
        deep
               est


The weight of the waves
bearing down on me
s-lapping, c-rashing
th-rusting
pull-
  lunge
        ing

me 
to the unruffled depths


I crave for breath
yet
I welcome the cool liquid.

So soothing...
embracing me
drinking me in

I wallow in it
as it swallows me in

and then...
and then
I find out
That all along,
I was inside
my own
tear
d
r
o
p
.
 .






March 18, 2012


Details | Free verse | |

Your Ocean

I stand on the edge of your ocean
Ready to dive in
Wanting to discover the depths of you
I have looked at the surface of you
Beautiful beyond my puny words
Sometimes your calmness relaxes me
I become lost in your serenity
My eyes are stretched to your horizon
I can not see all of you
I play innocently along your shores
I dip my toes into your cool waters
Slowly I am drawn into you
I feel you encompass my body
Then there is an undertow
I am helpless to resist
Drawn further from the shore
To the centre of you
I do not wish to escape
I trust you with my very soul
Sinking beneath the surface
I am wrapped in your embrace
Color surrounds me
My being is infused with your joy
The feeling of weightlessness
We are now joined
You are the beginning and completion of me
I was not meant to just stand on your shores

Dedicated to the Love of my life. I continue to explore the depths of her.


Details | Free verse | |

Dancing Bird - with video link

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wtpPcmLKRFU   Dancing Bird


Yesterday, I saw a shadow dart across my keyboard.
When I turned to look outside the window, 
I spied upon a sparrow playing in the sun.
He was dancing in dramatic fashion 
Across the shrubbery that was his home.
I could tell it was a male by his markings.
He was busy with his boasting, and proud.
No longer a fledge, he fluffed his feathers
To parade his prowess to all that might adore him. 
Then, he pivoted into a pirouette, and pranced
Most skillfully across the length of a branch
And launched himself into flight.  

Today, the sounds of birds cackling and chirping
Inside the shrubbery drew me to the window.
I could see three sparrows engaging in some fun and frolic.  
Perhaps it was some flirtatious mating ceremony. 
While most sparrows do look alike,
I’m sure that one of them was the dancing bird
I’d seen the day before.  I watched briefly and smiled,
Remembering my own courtship and rivals
Who would fancy my choice as their own.
I returned to the monitor and before I could begin 
My work, there was a loud thud upon the glass.
I gazed outside and there upon the ground was a small hawk
Clutching the dancer in his talons. 

Tomorrow, this bird will not dance.
He will not sing or court another.
And as sparrows are many,
I will no doubt find another to enjoy from this vantage.
I chide myself for failing to warn him of the danger.
I was too busy with my own enjoyment to notice.
Now, I close my eyes and reconstruct those moments
As I attempt to resurrect the dancing bird,
And preserve him....forever.


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 | |

Your Words

Your words,
are projectiles
dripping with Arsenic
and aimed at my heart
spitting out darts and swords 
that expertly find their mark
and draw blood

Your words,
when aimed at others
are carried by Pixies
and sprinkled 
with honey and sugar coatings
that melt in their ears
and taste of confection

Your words,
cloak me in pain and guilt
for undone atrocities
and imagined factors
as your blame
riddles my soul
causing it to
prune, wither, and crust

Your words,
accusing, spiteful, degrading, malicious
paintings of what I once thought
was an indestructible bond of Love
that no one 
should be able to destroy

and yet
you do so
with your words.

I've no soul left
no appetite for your touch
no desire to want for anything

except

to become deaf
so I will no longer
have to listen to

your words


Details | Free verse | |

Souls Aria...

Not as dainty as
        daffodils
swaying in the breeze

Or quite as rough 
            as lightning
that slashes somber skies

Maybe not as tender
as a precious child
           Unspoiled...

The diamond 
           of my essence....
It has many sides....

Rather crooked
             imperfect
    (Yin and yang)
   
        A little tough
        (it had to be)

       A little tangled
      (slightly broken)

Softer than some
        the core of me
Much more loving
        Than people see

Always striving for honesty

Worshipping the trees....

A lover of his hands
That shaped my heart....

His wisdom felt in me

Inside his oceans
see my soul

Within the sand
feel my psyche

Racing with his wind....
The stinging 
    breathless wind....
See and feel my soul
      
       E'lan Vital

   Reflections of me

Inside my daughter
      with her tender smile
Pieces of my life force

Her eyes, her heart
     Her laughter...
      More of me
Songs of my soul

My soul...
a painting from God above
With pink and red
               and hurt and love

Tattered and bruised
Sometimes abused

Amazing in the strength
       that he gave to me
With crystal light
         he sets me free

Colors and shades
         of silver and blue

He washes me clean
        and my soul is new

Hear my song...souls aria...


Details | Free verse | |

Dreaming for Reality

The wind serenaded me today,
telling me of her tales
but I refused to listen,
intent on dreaming was I...

The sun visited me today,
basking me in his warmth
but I gave him the cold shoulder,
intent on dreaming was I...

The trees danced for me today,
twirling their leaves in unison
but I swept them away,
intent on dreaming was I...

twilight welcomed the night

and yet I still dreamed...

of a world 
where children played freely,
under the sun and skies,
amidst trees

how I longed for that world,
but I was too stubborn to live in it...

intent on dreaming was I...




**words and actions must go hand in hand**

December 31, 2009--hmm one of my last poems of the year! Written for Constance's contest
:) happy 2010 everyone!


Details | Free verse | |

Pending Storm (To Inspire)

As I walked along the shore 
With thoughts that brought an emptiness to a heart 
That once beat within the soul of a young sailor 
At one with the elements
Without mercy 
As though seeking vengeance for an unnamed wrong
And again I felt the chill of another battle looming
In the distance 
But a smile lashed out gripping a face
That knew that the taste of victory was mine 
Seeing only the beauty
Of the ocean and 
Feeling her  strength 
As my legs carried me toward
The eye of the pending storm.



Thank you Larisa for the inspiration.


Details | Free verse | |

These ribbons I tie as you leave

Blue – 
for your arm wrapped around
my clavicle. I thought
I would loose my breath.

Red – 
for the cusp of our hip bones
struggling to pull the drunken color
from our orange cheeks.
and our sweat, our sweat, our sweat
evaporating 
in the drenched summer air.
Our pants futile afterthoughts
Left crumpled on the floor
It is here I asked for your respect
And you filled me with it.


Orange – 
for the musk smell of our blanket den. I would watch the way dawn light
speckled your shoulders, pale, white-blue
Iridium. 
I would trace the ink
of your skin, fingertip hovering a half inch
from your bone. 

Green – 
for how my name would hesitate
on your breath in brief puffs 
like dandelion seeds blown from 
My wistful lips when I was 
eleven 
waiting for them to bring back my wish.

Black – 
for my sleeveless dress, as we strolled from 
your father’s funeral.  

It was the only time I watched you cry.

There were little holes in the cement sidewalk.
They filled with rain, oil
And your tears.
I watched your face change through 
their watery colored reflections.


Pink – 
for the way your skin repels from my 
Touch, quivers as though my finger- 
print were a red hot poker.
You haven’t allowed me to touch you
In a year.

Purple – 
for the color of her font, as she responds to you. It is an eager
Color. She responds with all the passion of an Eskimo kiss. 

You left her waitng..always.

I have been special to you,
she replies to your
overtures.

Her letters 
Who blush
like a maid
Who’s felt the hot moist
whisper of something naughty
tickle against her ear lobe.

White – 
for the way your eyes punch accusations
sharper then your razor tongue.

They spit 
blue crackled lightening,
like an angry alley cat.

My words cannot reach you here.
You will leave.

We will divide our booty

Words that once held my name like a piece
Of carefully folded origami
now hiss cold 
devoid like the plaster of our empty room.

Grey- 
for the morning 
now knocking on my window.

I am livid in my withdrawal, tossing and turning
I can find no comfort
in
the tangle of these vacant sheets. 




Details | Free verse | |

A Collapsing Yippie

It seems like everybody around me has forgotten,
they're stuck on a thought again,
saying alot and whining more.
Preying on their own self-doubts,
they have so much,
yet see so little.
so stubborn.
Can't they see that 64 inch TV,
or feel the beating of the jets in their hot tub ?
They measure their lives too much,
they have fallen into the "Great American Dream Sham"
as my friend "Chad Williams Lowther" would say !
Its a ruse,
an antidote,
so they can make changes in their lives which they normally wouldn't do,
because they lack the strength and insight,
so they get stuck in their minds.
Wheels spin,
tears fall,
marriages crumble
and the damn kids are really suffering,
cause they don't have the latest video gizmo box.
Thoughtless over-reactions of self- abuse,
much like an addict who is never satisfied.
"The Great American Dream Sham" sucked them in,
they forgot,
macroni and cheese,
kool-aid,
saturday morning cartoons and matinees.
All replaced by todays goals and desires,
which are masquerading as tired souls trying to find solice,
stuck in "the Great American Dream Sham"
and now saying all there is to say,
Hail, Hail to me 
and all who are free,
all who go their own way
and all who see though it !




Details | Free verse | |

Unfettered Words

Sometimes between the lines,
trembles the hallows of unspoken goodbyes,
expectant and charged, like a theater scene,
in the moments before the curtain rises.

In the dream that I've had,
I am southward bound, so it must  be early autumn.
Someone has turned a giant dimmer switch,
and the sky is grayer.....
Wild thorn-berries have been picked, all the branches are bare, 
the gutters are filling, and evenings are long.
Through the limbs of knotted trees, 
a sun flitters between light and shadow.

Leaves are adrift, disturbed,
littering the  twilight sky
with unfettered words,
clamoring against the leadlight of a window,
pleading to be heard.

Somehow, the leaves are swept away,
by a bridled hesitation.
No summer aria has been sung,
and the words go unsaid.
Leaves fall to the ground,
and the light leaves the world.

The red velvet drape descends,
leaving unfettered leaves, and unsaid words, adrift, in the dark.






______________________________________________
7/29/14
For The Contest "Vibrant Verse"  Sponsored By Charlotte Puddifoot