Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


See and share Beautiful Nature Photos and amazing photos of interesting places



Introspection Love Poems | Love Poems About Introspection

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

12345
Details | Than-Bauk |

Midnight Pearls

.                 



                                        Shine, midnight pearls!
                                        The smoke curls up in whirls of doom

                                        On the wet sand 
                                        my own hand draws unplanned pierced hearts

                                        Deep blue-black sky
                                        I play by rules and sigh despair

                                        To lay aside 
                                        starry-eyed dreams that hide a sin

                                        Shine, distant stars!
                                        Through guitars notes, through scars of time

                                        For her first kiss
                                        an abyss drains all bliss from me

                                        And far away
                                        shadows play down their spray of doubts

                                        Opaque pearls, shine!
                                        On this fine night, define my north



.


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 | Lyric |

SWEET ISLAND GIRL

Early morn
Birds still sleep
Crickets warm
Not a peep
Coffee in hand
Dreams are free
Thinking of you
Thinking of me
Last night's prayer 
Has made it here
Rain soaked skies
Begin to clear
And what I see
On distant shore
Sweet Island girl
I long for more
Hear your heart
We are in tune
I love you so 
I'm coming soon

Contest: Craig's "Lyrics Again"
Date: 9-9-14


Details | I do not know? |

DEVOTION


           I dream of you
           I fantasize
           I see you when
           I close my eyes
           I speak your name
           With every breath
           I vow to love you 
           Unto death
           I think of you
           All the day long
           My love expressed
           In verdant song
           I speak of you
          To all my friends
           I long for you
          When each day ends
          I see your smile
          In every face
          In my heart you hold
          A special place
          I know that we
          Were meant to be
          And that you're the only 
          One for me
          And when I go
          To sleep at night
          I know this love
          Is more than right


Details | I do not know? |

In Forbearance

Where was I 
when repo men invaded,
possessed,
boxed me up within his cool heart
fragrant in its distaste of warmer climates?
You know,
climates governed by love.
(Daydreaming of knights, that's where.)

Now I have only so much patience remaining
for this slapstick brain-
a nasty reminder, the heckler of my heart,
what spews sensibility
when I simply yearn to err. 

And I scarcely have time to mourn
his devil's smile
leaving southward in moving vans
transporting my pieces
(all the valid ones)
with him
as I sit numbed,
next to climbing ivy poisoned by my disbelief,
broken
unpaid for.


Details | Pantoum |

Wayward Child

Ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide
grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left.
In cold or torrid waves, spent passions now abide
for you have left me, long ago, I'm now, alone bereft.

Grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left:
beside a roaring bonfire, where sparks on night winds glide;
for you have left me, long ago, I'm now alone, bereft.
I huddle in a dune's dark shade with nothing left inside.

Beside a roaring bonfire, where sparks on night winds glide,
we conceive a wayward child, a changeling child, a thief. 
I huddle in a dune's dark shade with nothing left inside,
as the waves of age and ages, return only grief.

We conceive a wayward child, a changeling child, a thief. 
In cold or torrid waves, spent passion now abides,
as the waves of age and ages, return only grief,
ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide.




Details | Didactic |

"Life's Absolute Epigrams" (for 2010)

Christian Love frame

The only need for death to every exist
Was to slay the fictional self
And all the embellishments used to support it

Fear not, Love’s little flock
You will not be set to fly
And then be allowed to fall

To be strong in your Love
Is to inherit the power of God
That now lies dormant in your essence

For your possession of absolute truth
Is a point at which your Love and your reality
Both become one in God

Slaying your fictional self, being honorable
Is your first step toward your recovery
Of your conscious immortality

For what is sin but the force and mischief
Used to instill and empower
Your mentally invented lower realities

Withholding forgiveness
Is the ego’s assault against life
Love does not judge

For what is the mercy of Love
But that it repeats it’s lessons of life
Until they are learn by the mind

For Love already knows, 
What life is yet to learn
Therefore learn from who you are
And teach your outer self
Love’s absolute truth

Love is your true reality, a constant source
Has no beginning or no end
The unlimited potential, quite essential

My prayer for 2010 is that;
These proceeding sayings
Become obsolete this year
In the face of your Love itself, Smile!

Stay in your Bibles, my little bibles
For Love is your title
Not your mind of idol!!

1-2-10 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com


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 | I do not know? |

Desperate (tritina)

I wish I knew how, had ability to turn
away from you and not look back to see if it
affected you, my turning away, walking off.

I want you to miss this, and I fail to pass off
the distance as a gravely unfortunate turn
of events, see truth within desperation, it

blinds, consumes, and (I hate to, but) I admit it
impossible to justify the breaking off
of any contact to once again inward turn.

I want to reach within, find this, and turn it off.


Details | Free verse |

LOVE at FIRST SIGHT

Love was in the air when he laid eyes on her.
Childhood; elementary and even high school with her.
Walking towards her, he greeted her.
Anxiety spiraled as he hugged her.
Conversation grew deeper as he sat with her.
Wanting to get closer because he was falling for her.

Another woman called pausing the time he was having with her.
Knowing he had to answer; he stepped away and spoke to her.
She stated that something wasn't quite right with her.
She said that her stomach had been bothering her.
Now he's thinking back if he came inside her.
Thinking if she lied to him about her tubes being tied within her.

Does he blame himself for listening to her?
Knowing right from wrong and yet he can't blame her.
Does he blame the devil for allowing him to be intimate with her?
Is he not a human that makes mistakes just like her?
Begging God to make a way for him and her.
Asking God to forgive him for committing the sin with her.

God said, "relax my son, you were only dreaming of her."


12345