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Adventure Introspection Poems | Introspection Poems About Adventure

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

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Details | I do not know? |

Raindrops

Raindrops
are like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps down
my spine

Their cool aftermath
cleanses me of my thoughts
of fear and uncertainty 
about what tomorrows
pain may bring

They make me feel,
wet with creativity
drenched in my optimistic
illumination. glistening
raindrops, my thoughts
leave paths of pleasurable
distress, and hope of success
which road, less traveled
may be the best

Forget an umbrella
when these raindrops
arrive, I walk outside
arms open wide

Ready to Receive
whatever
the mind storm may bring
because raindrops are
as my thoughts, falling
down into my mind
sending shivers down
my spine

My brain, yearns
for the rain, to wash away
the pain, tomorrows worry
does bring
One special drop
could speed up life's clock
to the time
I can handle my own
and not dwell inside my controllers
home

For raindrops are,
like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps
down my spine


Details | Epic |

The Mountain I Believed to Be Id

Across the valley
Stood the mountain I believed to be id
Two levels and a summit
Made it appear layered
Like first-dynasty pyramids

It would be a long climb
Step, stumble, slip,
Clutch and elevate my entire being

The valley’s simple green plants
Lived in symbiotic coexistence
With bees and ants
Nature nurturing nature
An embryonic journey
Between the Tigres and Euphrates

Such splendor might have caused me to remain
Many do
But I walked on

At the base of the mountain I paused
The summit hidden by a cloud ring
I looked back upon my Mesopotamia
Hailing its verdant simplicity
Questioning the summit’s worth

But uncontrollable curiosity
And unquenchable desire
Edged me forward

I climbed onto rocky soil
I stumbled as stones slipped ‘neath my feet
Reaching out to clutch a bush
I pulled upward

The first plateau ran before me as a brook
I peered into the pool of life
Finding amphibians, reptiles, fish
I waded
Ankles rubbing green algae
Creating eerie sensitivity
Slippery touch

The water cooled me
Thinning air brought calm
A sandy bottom soothed me

Such harmony might have
Caused me to remain
Many do

But above me
Within a mystical Saturnic cloud
Secrets of the summit beckoned
Edging me to elevate

Sweaty palms grasped a wild rose’s stem
Sharp thorns drew blood
My body fatigued, I cursed the climb
What marvels lay above the ring

The second plateau’s diversity thrilled me
Simple moss, brown rabbits
Deer with long, willowy legs
Hundreds of life forms
Gave me entrance
To Thoreau’s untouched paradise

The alluring cloud hung low above me
I questioned my destination
The second plateau’s oasis might have
Caused me to remain
Many do

But irresistible desire
Again edged me to step, stumble
Slip, clutch and elevate

I entered the cloud layer
Feeling hot and cold dancing vapor
The mountain I believed to be id
Swam under my feet

Perplexed, I muddled upward
Above the timber line
No trees, no grass
No plants, no animals
No life

Still I was curious for id
And took the final step

A cold granite peak
Amidst the grey moisture
Self-realization was achieved

I had seen all that was beautiful
But passed it by
The key to paradise was offered
Three times
Yet I had been a martyr to my own desire

I could not see
The valley, brook,
Or paradise of total life

I could see
Only myself
And I cried
For want of something beautiful


Details | Couplet |

The Dog Days of Summer

We let down the top to soak in the sun
Now that the harshness of winter is done

As you let back the seat and put your feet on the dash
Saying, “keep your eyes on the road I don’t want to crash”

I truly must admit that I’m torn completely in two 
The coast has its beauty, then again so do you

As the beauty of the Sun is absorbed by your skin
Like a kid at the candy store I simply want to dig in

If life is a candy store sweetheart you are the treat
All the other candy I tasted, never tasted so sweet

The reason I love summer is because of the heat
The skimpier the bikini, the greater the treat 

I can’t begin to express how wonderful you are
Saying, “hey take a look at her I’ll steer the car”

At first I truly had no idea what I should say?
Though now it’s, “ok sweetheart, have it your way”

I think that is because you know these words are true
I may take look at her but I shall forever belong to you

Summer is a time that is as bright as the sun
Out goes the cold as it’s replaced by the fun

We have our barbecues and sit under the stars
Let down the tops and go for rides in our cars

Go tend to our gardens in farmer John clothes
Truly amazed at how fast everything grows

Go hang out at the river as well as the lake
Cover ourselves in oil than let our skin bake

Embrace the moments because these words are true
The days last much longer and the sky is so blue

The dog days of summer I reckon that’s so
We bark and howl at folk we don’t even know

If life is banquet then summer is the feast
I think we should gobble it up, to say the least


Written for john's Summer contest.


Details | Free verse |

The Day That Died Forever

When I am Colder,Older and then alone...
I will collect the sky on my own...
When the art has faded and the days then fade-
when everyone has gone away...

I may finally see what never was saw
.....ahhhhhhhhhhhhh............... the quiet sky

The unlit room which bares my end...shows the flashes of my pains my joys and sins.
This life has been a strange one since the curtains were drawn
These paper and plastic figures have clouded the dawn

I was once younger,foolish,and obsessed with truth
Now I am bitter,sour,dour faced with my heart under shoe

The children were all searching or lost in a crowd
All weeds in a garden...growing vile and foul

Though beauty was sold it never came true
Obsessions and vanity have traveled safe through

Materials and poison and everything lost
have been burned in the fires or lost in the frost

I stand face to mirror tearing my being apart
Winding thoughts of love,pain,god,and art

As the sun sets and the darkness grows
I too shall follow this pattern in tow

Death has a friendly hand and a pretty face
She has given me comfort as I leave this place

The wars have occurred,humanity's lost
Souls have been burnt in the fire or lost in the frost

Day was Life,Night is Death

And the latter has given counsel on my final steps


Details | Burlesque |

a reading

“the eyes of my eyes opened” as
the door when she came in, late
and embarrassed, click of a
shutter into “the ear of my ear” a
whispered ‘hi’ for a greeting
at the meeting, a reading.
she might be beautiful, had I
my glasses, seeing nothing
of a face or a flower, boughing to
sunlight, bowing to heaven
I see inward had I my glasses
I’d hear a thought that over
me wrought a heaven-bent word or
something more absurd.
“Abso-lute-ly & pos-i-tive-ly”
dead in the large-room
prison-with-a-view, had I
my glasses, everything’s new
in its monotony, “under me you so quite new”
I knew the world kicks up its dirt in my
I would have seen the lies, the dirt, the
heaven-bent word, her (quite new), had I
my glasses.


Details | Ballade |

Being you

Being you

Accept yourself
That’s all that I can say
Let your inner voice tell you
The way to live your day
Do not be hard upon yourself
That never did no good
Just be happy, never worry
It’s foolish that one should.

Love yourself
Cause you’re a ‘one off’ too
No one else can play your part
Nobody can be you
It’s a lovely world we live in
Let it seep into your soul
Then when you feel at one with life
Twill get you feeling whole.

Most people call me crazy
But I love being me
I do not care what others think
I only like to be
To be this way, it is my right
A gift sent down by fate
I’m so I’m happy being me
Each day to me is great.

14 August 2013 @ 1410hrs.



Details | Acrostic |

Kiss Me in the Shadows

Keep well away from dark, forbidding dreams --
Instead, stay near the hearth and play your lyre;
Sleep even so will wait on wooden beams,
Seducing you beside your cozy fire.
Meticulous and careful you may be,
Evicting darting shadows with the blaze --
Inside your quiet cottage, patiently,
Night's emissary holds you in her gaze.
The cuckoo calls as midnight church-bells chime;
His warning message echoes from the walls --
Enchanted ears have lost all track of time,
So far from whispered fears as silence falls.
Her chilling hands then rip away your voice,
And images assail your inner eyes --
Denying you the act of conscious choice,
On captive lips she mixes truth and lies.
When sunlight climbs the sky and breaks her spell,
She blows a darkened kiss, and bids farewell.


Details | Haiku |

Misjudged

Standing still head's up
Retrospect greatest pitfalls 
Mass consciousness whim. 

Wandering till dawn
Waiting brave for the result
Less breathe heartless beat.

Until the mind soar
Now is  inexplicable
Sufferings indeed.

People grim anew
For the best of all Juries
Render canny nod.


Details | Free verse |

Brighton Streets

Do I dare look at you when I walk these streets?
Chase your shadow as it crawls under my feet?
For I have walked my way through 
These pleasant, summer nights
Trailing any trace of you in amber
Street lights.
Hearing the laughter of men and women
Drunken behind bars, their obliviousness
Billowing with the smoke of cigars
And once again I begin to wonder
In these thoughts that shatter, asunder
Of how unvoiced these nights have become.

The scent of scones melting in tea
The sugar, the beach, the creamed coffee
How foolish do I ought to be?
How much emotion becomes too much for me?
And the sun that strokes the clouds at sea
And hides its rays amongst them-
I watch… as all this beauty encircles me.

My eyes see not the glamorous dream
That has been haunting the lives of many it seems
The loveliness of love and its glimmering gleam
The word that is only word
That dream that is only dream.

For I have seen it on all these smiley faces, 
Hurried looks, and warm embraces
Can’t you see?
How we all have been entangled in one giant
Web of emotion?

Is there ever a place between Wordsworth’s
Daffodils and Poe’s Raven?
I walk these streets listening to a busker
Play his harmonica-
As I flip a coin into his flipped hat,
I wonder
How different we are, him and me
              Or are we?

Restricted we are to language and time,
Enslaved in memory, engaged in rhyme
How much easier it is to think of you and me
Rather than the misleading amounts of
Separating land and sea –illusory-
I observe and am observed as I walk these 
Streets, and I feel I know nothing of
Neither you nor me.


Details | Free verse |

Legendary Lady Leaders I salute you

I am like
Cleopatra
embraced by serpents many
fear
always trying something new
and dramatic with my
hair
I am like
Eva Patrón
growing up with a painful family
getting lost in movies
thinking of my own
hypnotizing when I speak
First lady of Argentina
meeting you, after death
would be a treat
a nervous habit, of nibbling
on my jewelry
the similarities, between us
gave me a sense of foolery
I am like
Wilma Mankiller
Chief of the Cherokee Tribe
for ten years
fighting against Native stereotypes
despite such distress
enemies did stress
promoting to ‘be of good mind’
you were a leader, of your time
an advocator for women
that they may grow up
and become chief
as a child, you wondered
the forests, like me
not the streets
I am like
Aung San Suu Kyi
wearing three types of 
flowers in your hair
feeling at times like a 
‘splinter of glass, sharp, glinting
power to defend itself against hands
that try to crush’
winner of a Nobel Peace Prize, 
for courage, was
a must
I am like
Catherine The Great
a love to laugh,
coffee, and feeling compelled
to always fill abandoned blank
sheets of paper
you were a Royal Russian Empress,with
not one red drop of Russian blood
and her people, were blessed
to have her
I am like
the Queen of England
longest royal lifetime in history
strong built, from a miserable childhood
toughened her
this is no mystery
preferring candle light
to electricity
handwriting over typewriter
and poetry
I am like
Indira Gandhi
dreaming to live as she did
riding elephants and having
tiger cubs as companions
your own Sikh security
killed you, the story
a sad one
secret dreams of being a writer
angered, by the imbalance of
power
between men and women
listening to beat poets
like Ginsberg
as a great Prime Minister of India 
you were heard
and understood
I am like
Rigoberta Menchú
drew the worlds attention to 
native Indians rights,
because of you
your goal, to be
a drop of water on a rock
dripping in the same spot,
eventually in the world, you
may leave a mark
wearing many colors
‘because it gives you life’
insisting men and women be equals
you fought this fight
to relax, as I do
writing poetry into
 the night
I am like
Joan of Arc
French Military Heroine
burned at the stake at just
age nineteen
known for keeping your cool
even on the battlefield
being a courageous and inspirational
rare jewel
Legendary Lady Leaders
I salute you



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