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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

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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 | Year Posted 2013

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 | Year Posted 2013

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 | Year Posted 2012

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. 



Copyright © Jennifer Brooks | Year Posted 2006

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 | Year Posted 2006

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.

Copyright © Melissa Schwartz | Year Posted 2005

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 | Year Posted 2010

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 | Year Posted 2010

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 | Year Posted 2011

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 
money.

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 | Year Posted 2009

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 | Year Posted 2010

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 | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

My Heart

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

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2006

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 
request,

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

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009

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
bastards.
Who dare to feel anything in the place of  
emptyness.

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 | Year Posted 2009

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 
clear.
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 | Year Posted 2009

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
right.
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 | Year Posted 2009

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
stay.

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 | Year Posted 2009

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 | Year Posted 2007

Details | I do not know? | |

Lost all Alone

Lost all alone.
Waiting patiently for companionship.
Reruns of the old.
Savage cruelties unleashed.
Unable to share this.
An undesirable partner.
Giving with nothing recieved.
Demanding any explanation.
Stripped of all dignity.
Left naked and weak.
Deserving of much.
Accredited none.
No experience fair.
Doesn't matter to any.
Unrelenting heartbreak.
Administered by most.
Cared by none.
Forgiveness unaccepted.
Lost all alone.

Copyright © Michael Osborne | Year Posted 2005

Details | Rhyme | |

ADRIFT

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 
throne.

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 | Year Posted 2009

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 
hand.
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 
rain.
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 | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rhyme | |

Evergreen

So stay the gold.
foolish thoughts wasted 
apon the old.

Your never alone except day and night.
did we forget the cause.
Or just grow tired of the fight.

Evergreen moments dont exist in books.
Or pictures trapped apon the page.
The wisdom of life is nothing without the rage.
 
Into a maze we go blind.
Far past  the moment.
Nothing is left to remind.


Motions are not feelings. 
Along with contracts and lies.
So many loser's  with there double dealings.

Taken from the city lights
I lost all that was obscene.
My pasion was turned into my evergreen.

Time you change all but me.
Casting many storms.
That turn  so very deep  within the sea.

Erased are thoose moments
apon the slate  is clean.
I wonder do you ever reflect my sweet evergreen.

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

Questions

Who is more righteous,
The pious man who watches in awe,
Or the faithless man saving those in the blaze?

Who is stronger,
The man who lifts a ton with one arm,
Or the mother of four on her own?

Who has lost more,
The man who has lost his money,
Or the man who has lost his love?

Who is weaker,
The man who can't fight back,
Or the man who won't fight for him?

Who Is more savage,
The man who doesn't know right from wrong,
Or the man who doesn't care?

Who is wiser,
The man who has the answers,
Or the man who asks the questions?

Copyright © Michael McOrus | Year Posted 2005

Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Rtrn

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Generic Oppression Poem

Oppressed by you, your state, your religion
So you think you good, kind and Superior
But I find you  cruel, arrogant and callous
But that is just in my view, what do I know?

You control the language that describes pain
But there is no for me in its grid, or how I feel
My soul is ripped from my body and bound,
On to your machines on which I slave and toil.

You say it has to be this way, no room for doubt
Master and slave, it is only a matter of degrees
But it is my kind that is always tied to the rack
While you sip vintage wine in the lap of luxury.

Everything has its time and its place, yours is over
End is near, for you and everything you hold dear
Everything carries with it the root of its own destruction
And I will rejoice now that your has very nearly come.

Copyright © tony northover | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric | |

Too Soon, My Love - Too Soon

So, here we are again, my dear
Our wondering hearts are trembling with fear
Of the step we took in the pale moonlight
Now, beholding each other in the bright sunlight.

Remember our plan? We'll take it slow
We'll allow our hearts and love to grow
Without the pressure of passion released
Too soon - but now, where do we go?

Is it time for us now to say good bye -
Do we gather ourselves and give it a try;
Are we done, my love, and now we start
On a future that tears our love apart?

Oh, help me now to understand 
How we lost control of our senses and
That now, our passion being fulfilled
We ponder if our love is stilled.

Yes, here we are again, sweet dear,
Two wondering hearts now filled with fear
For the step we took while under the moon
Was it too soon, my love - too soon?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Submitted for: In The Mood For Love Contest
Sponsored By:  Shadow Hamilton

Copyright © Neva Romaine | Year Posted 2010

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

A Blue Rose Sings

Upon a deep blue rose, a scented song,
so delicate of harmony and sweet;
a melody, whose strains of love replete
I mused upon. To whom could it belong?
To claim such ballad ought have felt so wrong,
but I could ne’er its memory delete;
each note an echo in my own heart’s beat,
alluring me to drift and sing along.

Though how I wish I’d never found the rose
whose music stirred a restlessness in me;
where love once blossomed only sorrow grows
from searching for a love that cannot be,
and timelessly a tear-blue river flows
through heartache’s vale to discontentment’s sea.

Copyright © Sharon Tideswell | Year Posted 2010

Details | Sestina | |

Gift

The day’s beginning is a special gift.
Given over a life’s eternity,
One can’t help but feel the daily change.
How often we stay into the evening.  An attempt to hold
Onto the feelings of joy and elation,
That made our day so emphatically special.

Are not the future possibilities also special?
That we dream of yet other gifts,
gifts  of such thought, that might also inspire elation
From giver and receiver for all eternity.
Constantly close to both, holding,
As if to say, “Don’t Ever Change.”

Does growth not require change?
Should not that change be also special?
Only if you have forgotten about holding,
The longing embrace of previous gifts,
One that requires attention for all eternity,
fueling existential feelings of elation.

Even when intentionally forgotten, holding
On to the recipient, despite elation.
At one point, this internal agony was a gift.
What could ever make this change?
This gift that could never be more special.
Now it has changed for eternity.

The re-direct of energy through eternity,
The loss of love’s forever embrace.
Love, making pain beautifully special.
Will there ever be elation?
Maybe if we only change
The way we exchange special gifts.

Our future’s eternity might fill with elation
From  holding the exchange
Of something special,
… the mere appreciation of a gift..

Copyright © Matthew Sample | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme | |

Sleeping with Sirens

You measure love in the
leagues across the sea,
and if it was more than twenty
nothing’d bring you back to me.
I could not bring myself to
that same principle of love
could it be measured in distance?
Can you measure the sky above?
For each night I sent my heart
across the stars to you
an immeasurable distance 
perhaps, but it is true.
I couldn’t deny your heart beat
beating next to mine,
but it came as a surprise
when you looked at me to decline.
The sirens were calling
they were singing you a song
you measured love in the distance
the sirens were closer all along.

Copyright © Rhia Madison Thomer | Year Posted 2011