Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

CreationEarth Nature Photos

Introspection Lost Poems | Introspection Poems About Lost

These Introspection Lost poems are examples of Introspection poems about Lost. These are the best examples of Introspection Lost 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 | Rhyme | |

Midnight Brings The Dawn

It seems that all my life I’ve seen some darker times Now and then the times I knew were more than I could stand. But, learn we must, from all hard times and soon we come to know It’s trying times that we go through that makes a boy a man. When we feel weak at heart and think we’ll never make it Our spirit strengthens us to somehow carry on. It’s then we learn that just at midnight things could get no worse And soon we see the darkness fade and midnight brings the dawn. Every midnight has a dawning Every dawning has a day Where daylight shines on things remembered And some things lost along the way. And every passing daylight Brings evening into play Where we’ll face another midnight That brings, yet, one more dawning day. It seems a pattern thus emerges, Monotonous as it may seem, Every midnight brings a dawning, Filled with all our daylight dreams. Dreams are meant to bring survival To those who may have lost their way. Who found the darkness of the midnight Kept the dawning light at bay. So, as near as I can figure, There’s this we can rely on However bleak the darkest midnight, After midnight comes the dawn. Written by John Posey 04/09/13

Copyright © John Posey

Details | I do not know? | |

In Forbearance

Where was I 
when repo men invaded,
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,
unpaid for.

Copyright © Melissa Schwartz

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.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

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
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
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 
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

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.

for the morning 
now knocking on my window.

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

Copyright © Jennifer Brooks

Details | Light Poetry | |

Second Hand Man

She packed her bags one day
Left me in the dark
Running away, what a lark
I stare at the walls; life seems so bleak and stark

I wrote her love letters
Only a thousand or two
The poor old postman
Carrying them all back to my door

Return to sender was the obvious score
So I took my pen and wrote a few more
Before dousing my desires
In the illusions of folklore

Where out of the forest
On a mist filled dawn
Returned my princess
Singing our song

Alas I walk along lonely forest paths
I dream and ponder of what might have been
I look up to the heavens and demand, what was my sin?
That I am alone, surrounded in deathly silence

A second hand man


For a second hand rose

Copyright © arthur vaso

Details | Quatrain | |

Lonely Dreams

I never knew following dreams could be this lonely,
But up on the hill, looking back, thank God I'm not the old me.
If the tears will fall, let them be;
I believe this is God's plan, follow your dreams.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin

Details | Rhyme | |

Lest We Forget

In churned up soil the poppy rose 
On top of death, still steadily grows 
And in our minds we see the crosses 
That lie in rows and count our losses 

Blood that drips from tiniest bloom 
Beloved children, lost from the womb 
Their essence blown upon the earth 
For infinity, will show their worth 

And so they marched by decree 
A war they fought, so we could be free 
The poppy, how we remember them now 
So in silence we do reverently bow 

One single day, just once every year
To remember all the horror and fear 
To give thanks and praise, to those in need 
Who saved us through unselfish deed 

For so young when they said goodbye 
With no idea that so many would die 
In Flanders Fields where poppies grow 
Innocence, now lays buried in each row 

For those that did return safely home 
Their spirit lost and so had flown
To fly away among the peaceful skies 
With friends and larks with carefree eyes

In the thunder hear the roar of guns
Calling to all our native sons
Arise, arise, from sleep once more
For once again, there will be war

In Flanders Fields, the poppies grow 
They cover our loved ones, buried below 
Like a blanket, they protect all within 
From a world that is ravished by sin 

More souls will join them as the years go by 
More wars will be fought, as the lark does cry 
More fields will be filled, with our dead 
And poppies will mark their graves in red

"Lest we forget and more shall die"
"In Flanders Fields our loved ones lie"


Copyright © Bernadette Langer

Details | Free verse | |

How Far Will You Fly

How far will you fly?
Cross continent? Moonward?
Across the room?
When will you depart?
Through which gate?
Let me fly with you.
You won't even notice me,
On the wing,
Clinging for life (and love).
Why do you flee me,
choosing a destination
from which it will be
to book a return?

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore

Details | Free verse | |

Drifting Apart

different drumbeats, separate Lives he inhales the wind song, a static cling to yesterday held in his heart until his melody fades life, love, hope circle the drain aging realist at one with his pain love’s last aria, a melancholy oboe resigns with setting sun when two are no longer one, the chasm widens between haunting roars tribal drums on opposite shores
*For Brian's "2, 4, 6, 8" contest

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire

Details | Tanka | |

Where Reveries Reside

Tears subside,
hushed breaths draw ebbing tide,
soft virgin sands, un-walked and damp, shine.

A delicate filigree of silvery brine
brings an interlude where grief and beauty entwine,
gently swaying between now and then.

Thoughts of ‘remember when’
stir again.

Scattered far and wide,
bygones shimmer in rock pools,
scents on breezes ride...
elusive remnants of love
under bitter-sweet moonlight.

There is a place where reveries reside,
ensconced in time between the lows and highs,
where troubles disappear in ocean’s sighs
and hopes return with happiness inside.

Where shades of blue, and rose hues coincide
to nurture promises of sweet reprise,
there is a place where reveries reside,
ensconced in time between the lows and highs.

A haven to reflect on love’s divide,
recall that smile, the twinkle of those eyes
with fondness, then let woven dreams arise
with threads of gilded memories to guide...
this is the place where reveries reside.

**For Jared Pickett's Trois Par Huit /Tanka/Rondel contest

Copyright © Sharon Tideswell

Details | Rhyme | |

Stormy Heart

Alone in loneliness Amid forever nights And these four walls In faint, whisper soft your name I beg out loud to the nothingness that remains "Please not another nightmare, no more storms" But, answers are merely glimpses of light From lightening... Filtering through the pane Empty sheets... Cast empty shadows on the wall Of places where you used to be Eyes wide open Now asleep, afraid I am to fall Trapped within this never ending dream I cling to all the memories that I have Spinning me closer to where you were, in parallel on the edge The thoughts, like imaginary rubble, comes tumbling passed A fire for you still burning inside Why can’t I let go of the tragedies last And silence your unrescued suicidal screams Or is it only the rain falling faster as it taps harder, and harder upon the glass Or is it of your wandering spirit Mockingly knocking? Haunting with its vindications Of "why’s" I can never seem to grasp All this amidst lost stares into black windows Where gutters overrunning, burdened by the strains And I swear I see your reflection Among the flashes, tracing out illuminations about your face And for the first time You are noticeably absent of all the worldly pains And your lips releasing out a comfort that for so long I've been seeking As I hear the words echo within my stormy heart "That where you are everything is okay"

Copyright © Michael Smith

Details | Rhyme | |

Affliction of Addiction

The feeling of a mind in a constant rotation 
Regardless, the effect is a sensation 
Erratic thoughts and a foggy haze 
Trapped within an infernal maze 
At a balance to fully exist 
I’m an emotional masochist 
My addictions will cause me to drown 
Tip-toe between being heaven or hell bound 
It’s easier to cease the pain with a pill 
A quick way out- Maybe I will 
It’s the ease of mind that I crave 
To my addictions I am a slave 
For they know I enjoy the pleasure 
I keep them because only them I treasure 
I fear no troubles for they are with me 
They open my eyes for me to see 
The fact of knowing I am sick 
The realization I’m ok with it 

Copyright © Ty Townsend

Details | Verse | |


A vignette of domestic violence and the weird rationale of love amidst such 
circumstances - adapted from how it was depicted to me by a female friend and 
taken from her own personal experience.

I was defined china and porcelain, 
Inlaid glass flowers and gently spoken;
Fragile in doe-eyed delicacy, 
Pleading and begging not to be broken.

I loved him with total forgiveness, 
Did not, could not, would not understand 
The dark chaos mood of lability, 
The spontaneous violence of his hand.

Blue and black bruises indecorously swelled 
Question marks about tear brimmed eyes;
And I wept and despaired in confusion, 
Smashed and grabbed by wherefores and whys.

How could he dream to hurt me so, 
The brutish malediction of his touch?  
How could he stand to hurt me so, 
When he knew I loved him so much?

And now the years have drained away 
Like sweeping veils of rain;
The agony of our breaking apart 
Ever haunts me with anguish and pain.

I still see him some times, 
Rarely, truly out of the blue, 
On the old territory of familiar streets 
When unconsciously passing through.

And always shook by the stalking truth,
A lancing bright-bladed knife,
And with dogmatic aching my heart lets me know
He was always the love of my life.

And I know there's no sense to be had
When I look to the heavens above,
Just the sad and lonely heart of the matter:
You never can choose whom to love.

Copyright © Tony Bush

Details | Terzanelle | |

Stone Keepsakes

Love lingers, in the objects of stone left behind,
holding pleasing recollections of welcome footfalls;
the painful memories, most, spent of love declined.

Those last few months of harborless shores, the squalls 
fade, as I gaze on the jade keeper left bedside,
holding pleasing recollections of welcome footfalls.

The blade of horn, carved with love's protection, bides.
An owl of stone my guardian makes nightmares
fade, as I gaze on the jade keeper left bedside,

I have keys given me in faith, your love declared.
Though trust given, never was withdrawn, never died.
An owl of stone my guardian makes nightmares

fade, and over gold-amber earrings; I still cry.
Yes, you are goodly gone, and that I truly know;
though trust given never was withdrawn, never died.

Happy times of kisses warm, of love bestowed,
love lingers, in the objects of stone left behind.
Yes, you are goodly gone and that I truly know,
the painful memories, most, spent of love declined.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Dizain | |

Wounded Wanderings - Picture Perfect

A gray and dreary sky was drawn this morn though love was in my heart of hearts aglow, as I called out to you, a rift was torn, and through the rift, so silent, fell the snow. Ah, you have passed my heart, my love; I know, a barefoot specter follows through the white. Once warmed by passion’s kiss and love’s delight now, only memories fill my beating heart, and I can but shiver in the dead of night awaiting the cock’s crow, I will depart.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Narrative | |

And The Road Begins?

Mornings are dreadful time in life unless waking beside gorgeous woman hopefully 
a not married one  husbans can be such a downer.
And when ya wake to a warm beautiful creature by your side.
And the first thought that comes to your mind is i wonder whats for breakfest.

Then ya probaly cant read the menu to start with and desserve 
to have a oversized weight lifter re arrange your ribs.

Im a southern man once means several things  non of which means im normal.
And this morning finds my yerning for a trip and widespread  mischief.
My amigo had vanished after are trip south of the boarder I remember saying 
to myself as i watched him  running naked across the dessert  being chased 
by the flying monkeys  he was surley seeing after his consumption of a foreign substance 

There goes a fine american.

I would have ran after him  but  but i didnt want thoose things to turn there attention to me 
I herd they had a thing for southern  actscents.
And theres nothing  worse than a bunch of horney flying monkeys trust me 
Ive delt with this problem  befor.

and being it was happy hour i knew my slightly insane amigo would understand 
in all his naked glory.
Besides  I left him some sneakers  and a sixpack.
And kept his credit card for safe keeping.

Naked men have no place to keep credit cards and I figured he was in no state to handle 

So as i sit  behind  the wheel  ready to to get lost in the madness of fast food and
  the ant hill of insanity that is wall mart i turn my thoughts to vegas.
For where would a lost nude slightly insane person  run to and feel at home.

I had turn the music up to drown out the sound of whoever was in the trunk.
I figured if i had put sombody in there  in a drunken moment.
It had to be for a good reason.

And so with slightly hungover mindset are road begins.
and so with that do the games also.
And i figured hanging around with a cops wife wasnt the smartest idea.
That and im allergic to bullets.

My muse and 16 year old spirtiual advisor had phoned me to say that.
I probaly needed to Invest in the spirt of Jack Daniels  today.
And hey she had went to church more than once  so who was I to argue.

With a five five spitfire by the name of tinker.
so with A unknown companion in the trunk not helping my hangover i was off
to the races  Untill next time kiddies. 
Adios and im off to find my amigo.

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo

Details | Free verse | |

Lines Written Of A Recurring Ponder

You may not know this,
But sometimes, I sneak 
away from my cynicism,
and see through my vehement
in self loathing, to uncover
the tender optimism of 
my former self, reminiscing
of elated memories, that I
over time, forgot belonged to me,

As I see us, my mind captures the
image, in hopes of warming my 
essence, but the thought of
holding this picture, is inferior
to the risk of learning to smile again,
To smile and relish in a moment
that cannot be willed into reality,
despite the sincerity of a heart's desire,

Secretly, the vision of your beauty
belonging to me, releases melted
fragments of my heart through my 
eyes, I shamefully wipe away such
signs of sorrow, and tell myself you
were "just a girl" but all of me
knows better, for the truth of your
importance is a factor unimaginable,

I cannot tell you that you were the
best of me, created out of prayer,
and wished into reality, or that my
eyes still remain closed until yours
sees sunlight, or that it was your
love alone, which gave me hope,
taught me faith, and filled my being
with the invincibility of a deity,

Such delicate confessions should
remain silent to your ears, and ears
of the world, for within them lies
the truth of a sorrow unseen by humanity,
and the power to allow this elation to
again grant me immortality, an everlasting
life in which I could only agonize over
a paradise unreachable, and the fruitless
fantasy of a raisin in the sun,

Copyright © Audonus Taylor

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

Copyright © Winter Wallace

Details | Free verse | |

Wondrous Kite

She walks away.

Girlish and glorious
through air
like a kite on a string
that pulls
tautly slipping through tightened fingers,
burning a little,
and slicing through 
if ever left unattended,

so preciously tensioned
against the cold

Tears begin to flow
but I do not know . . .
my heart?
or the wind?
If my heart, then am I sad
to be here on the ground
or joyful
to be watching the kite

In answer, a quivering.

A wisp.

"She will not fall or float away while I hold her thus. 
She will be beautiful for me."


Copyright © Jonathon Paarlberg

Details | I do not know? | |

Nasty girl

   There you go again doing things that you are not suppose to be in and then you look at 
me like oh i'm so sweet if you only knew I can be a freak without showing it. Here they 
go listening to the rumors but i'm your friend so in the end I know that they are true. 
How could you do that with him and her and they were on the ground you were pretending to 
pick up gum? You need to be safe, making out with strangers girl I aint no saint but god 
what are you doing? I don't want to see you years from now telling me you got aids, I 
worry about you and I feel like your special so I even wrote about you come on look how 
much you mean to me. You like him I get it but how many other guys have you liked in the 
past. He's your only, he's a phony make sure he's not just in it for the prize because 
girl you never know some guys are. It's the truth and you need to listen, I don't mean to 
sound bossy but soon enough your name is going to be posted on all the bathrooms walls. 
Telling things that you haven't even done yet. But you will front about it, Lie again. 
Telling everyone it's happened how do we know what's real or fake. I love your 
personality I wish I could steal it, Your loud, and flirty, daring and smart girl you got 
too much heart to be showing it to everyone who wants a sip. this is for all the nasty 
girls out there who think I don't know what i'm saying just ask anyone of them who are 
dead now or are on the streets prostitiuting. Don't be afraid to be a freak it's healthy 
but sometimes it's better when it's secret closet freaks have more fun.

Copyright © Shahana Jackson

Details | Free verse | |

My Heart

.                                             You hold it in your hand,
                                                        And touch it.
                                             Your touch makes it warm.
                                                 You like how it feels, 
                                                You  decide to keep it.
                                               And hold it in your hand
                                                    As time goes by,
                                           It seems to get in your way.
                                            You want your hands free.
                                              You put it on the shelf,
                                                       Out of sight,
                                                  And forget about it.
                                                          One day.
                                      You find your hands are empty,
                                             And you remember it.
                                         You take it from the shelf,
                                        Needing its’ warmth again.
                                                   You touch it,
                                             And feel it turn to ice.

Copyright © Elaine George

Details | Rhyme | |

Every Time We Fall

Every time we fall we lose a bit of  are selfs.
Untill hollow becomes the heart.
bare as a vacant stores shelves.

The dreamer finds solice in every new face.
That new love's illusion.
Cold is the afterglow when we reflect apon that 
once passionet embrace.

Can the bitter heart find a reason to try?
Skipping stones alone across dark water.
We keep setting are selves  up without 
a single question as to why.

A room smoke filled yet every thing shows 
Sometimes  we play the cards.
And hold the best one aside in fear.

As vast as the ocean  from its shores 
the  the innocent crawl.
Trying to capture only a glimmer of that true passion.
Every time we fall.

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo

Details | Rhyme | |

If Only It Was Me

If only it was me who could win this race.
I stand so very proud with honor.
Along with you in my rightful place.

But I am but this man that you see.
Everything  but  him.
If only it was me.

A beggar ive become pride no longer does exist.
Counting seconds till my rejection.
With no escape  still the foolish heart does resist.

For we are but children when it comes to soul.
Love leaves us blind.
Failure turns the heart as dark and bitter as a piece 
of coal.

Head apon pillow waitting for what will be.
Tears from a helpless heart pour.
 The mind becomes a prison as i curse if it
were me.

For if it were me I would make it all
Castaway doubt.
Erase every empty night.

My arms are open empty they do remain.
Reflecting apon every word.
As slowly I go insane.

But i do not wish for the sadness 
of being free.
Your love  is endless passion that cast such warmth.
A fool cries to the wind if only it were me.

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo

Details | Rhyme | |

The Memory

In the garden she said goodbye.
A kiss filled with remorse.
Moonlit memories she asked to forget us 
as I promised to try.

Time and addictions.
A change in appearance.
Old vices and new  afflictions.

I found comfort with many
and refuge with none.
Life can be a tragic play.
As empty as the night as beautiful
as the setting sun.

Sometimes a vision becomes unclear.
Forgotten lovers guilty eyes.
Did we part under false terms or
simply fear.

A candle's light.
Glows softley and cuts
through the night.

Sanity is only a common state of mind.
To forget is not possible.
For it only takes a single song to remind.

I saw the pain in your eyes.
The sorrow did illuminate the darkness.
Moments   go unseen as this statue of a man cries.

I cannot give you my word that it will
be my best.
In that place so far away.
I belive I will never be able to fulfill your 

I understand that which could never be.
Trapped in a prison  of a memory.

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo

Details | Narrative | |

The Phone

The phone rings empty into the night.
Filling a void that brings strange comfort
to thoose around.

Rage eats away untill it bores a hole
straight through are hearts.
Whiskey cauterizes the wound.

Alone with fools we gather.
The bitter ones taking to there barstools.
the weak look to punish thoose happy
Who dare to feel anything in the place of  

She left so many years befor.
At least her mortal soul did.
I rememeber when it was when I still
dared to dream.

Long befor reallity was a friend.
Lovers lie.
Motions keep us living.

She spoke but the words were empty as her heart.
So as strangers we parted just as we met.
With a bitter taste I never did reply.

The phone rang it's last time.
I herd it echo farewell down the hall.

I had to go so I never unlocked the door.
i just left my emotions hanging  like some
forgotten coat pushed back in
the closet.

Its been almost a year since that phone filled
the emptyness of my soul.
If only I had answered.

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo

Details | Rhyme | |

The Half Heart

Every morning  I wanna  wake to your face.
Empty are the walls.
Bare is my soul for without you this is
just a place.

Head apon pillow deep in slumber without a care.
I curse shadows and lose
myself in the sent of her hair.

I miss you befor you even leave.
The foolish try.
Emotions are not hidden well 
apon the sleave.

She saw the man befor the ghost.
The ship sits out off shore.
As the pain does linger just  off 
the coast.

In hand brings more comfort  than
in heart.
You felt all.
So without warning you did depart.

Every morning  just befor light chases 
night away.
I sit and curse the  reason I could no longer

Empty as the lost who's life  
sit's in a cart.
To exist is a struggle when your
forever missing 
the other half of your heart. 

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo

Details | Free verse | |

Minds lost are Minds Found

I’m losing my mind in a hurry!
Maybe, maybe, losing the mind is letting it find itself
or maybe, i'm just crazy

I keep running  with anticipation, with heart open and judgment closed
[I discover most superbly this way]
 Foolishly Dropping it, hoping that it’ll pick up something useful
On sidewalks, books, table-top salty discussions,
Sometimes in filth letting it pervade the crevices
And when I tidy it, sometimes
It doesn’t all come out, but I try my best
Ever so often, after a new dish soap and scrubbing gloves
 it comes out cleaner then it ever was, 
With spicy remains of the crude yet true substances

Chunks fall out where the glue of stability erodes 
                  I know that I am fond of it this way
So I can put them back together
                   With my own fingers

                                                     Organized C   H   A   O   S

Instead of the media’s, my peers, my parents, piloting
The pivotal pieces 
I let them descend tenderly into location
In my own decimal code
I constitute the regulations here
This belongs to me, my only
Safe place

It doesn’t matter to me if life doesn’t flow
If it’s jagged or slow, here
I don’t care
If insanity is the real sanity
Or that distinctive is incorrect
This is my society and I shape it as I please
Seeing as it only affects me
As long as my mind is 
In flurries of expansion
I don’t really care if it’s lost at all

Copyright © Bella Cardenas

Details | Lyric | |

Edge of Love

Bring on what awakens
It falls under what I’ll lose
And so it goes on sleeping
Under a queen I will refuse

Face what she calls perfect
It got there through her pain
And so it circles back to nothing
Where every face becomes the same

Calmness and reflection
It gets me high on life
But then I find where this is leading
When I become her darling knight

I’ll screw her just to prove it
I’ll throw away my mind
And when I find she’s non-existent
I’ll spread her poison through a rhyme

So lovely in completion
So pointless to deny
If self-hate did not believe me
I’d give it all another try

Copyright © Ian Petch

Details | Rhyme | |

Love From Afar

Strange creature and my best friend.
The distance between us is great.
So why do we pretend.

You cross the street as I head to the bar
I'll drink to you my dear.
For if I cant hold you close.
I'll just love you from afar.

Like crumbs tossed to a pigeon from a delicate 
I'll wait like a fool.
For my heart is forever yours to command.

You say I cause pain when you remember the past.
Bitter tears erase the passion.
That sometimes isnt ment to last.

Sometimes it's easier to forget then remember 
who we are.
if it bothers you to keep me close.
Then I'll love you from afar.

Standing underneath your window in the pouring 
Times alone often i do reflect.
Love has a way of making the normal seem insane.

So very close never knowing who we truley are.
Taken from my heart.
left only to love  from afar.

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo

Details | Rhyme | |


Alone for for now driffting apon the sea.
You stayed at the shore.
Cause you never found comfort  in someone like me.

The sunset is empty when your alone.
Worthless is the kingdom.
When no one is willing to share the 

I was your clown when in shadows I always 
found a way to make your spirts lift.
Ive lost all since of direction.
Since you set me adrift.

Was it only a moment something I cold not see.
the heart bleeds still.
From this prison called a memory.

The storm doesnt effect me out here.
Its not death.
But isolation I fear.

The wind is my only friend the ocean my home.
Searching for that which I cannot have.
On this endless quest I roam.

Drawing a heart inside your hand as
 through the sand you sift.
From the comfort of the shore I wonder
do you  recall.
Are love you set adrift. 

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo