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Introspection Life Poems | Life Poems About Introspection

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

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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 |

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 |

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 | Verse |

Who Am I

I am the ring around Saturn
spinning words as particles of ice and dust
with the power to transcend

I am the original chosen to be right here right now
transmitting verbal frequencies 
through speaking my thoughts into existence

I am the heir of omnipotence,
born with a direct connection to profound abundance 
The one whose words will age, yet still have substance;
since there are no boundaries attached to my pen

I am constant energy
Translating personal experience into imagery 
Vulnerable to tyranny,
yet i continue attempting to share some truth
through this abstract language of poetry

I am the core
I am that I am more
I am the Divine Presence that is the Source of my rewards

I am the green you get when you mix too much yellow with the blue
That shade of gold you get when the sun resides into darkness
and when it ascends in the dawn burning dew
I am the transition between the third and fourth dimension of time;
the love you feel when you realize how it feels

I am the poem that is abstractly direct
because I write beyond limits
absorbing frequencies from 3 to 8 hertz
through meditation for several minutes
I am the one bridging the gap between
the analog ascension and the direct connection to spirit
The one who is love
because I am a descendent  of it

I am the rhythm that the wind blows
I am the beginning and the ending of stories told
about the universe and how miracles unfold
I hold the power to accept judgement from those who will do just that
Not knowing that I am them in the absolute reality of me
Judge that

I am knowledge beyond measure because that is my right
So I continue meeting the different parts of me
when I meditate and write
Who am I?
I AM, THAT, I AM



Details | Acrostic |

Open Sores

I am a coward with open sores. 
I write and wonder who it bores. 
I hear my heart and mind argue repeatedly. 
I see others carrying out my dreams; 
that’s what’s defeated me.
 
I am a coward with open sores. 
I pretend open doors are closed, and walk the other way. 
I touch base with the fear in my heart, tearing me apart,
leaving nothing to say... 
I worry the world will leave me. 
I cry because no one believes in me. 

I am a coward with open sores. 
I understand nothing comes easy. 
I say I’m happy, but even I don’t believe me. 
I dream I am healed and brave. 
I try to overcome my weaknesses before I’m in my grave. 
I hope you hear me.
I’m on all fours. 
I am a coward with open sores. 




©  2011  ~JSLaM    

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* 1st PLACE in Contest "MARCH MADNESS" Sponsored by C. Devonshire 2011

* 1st PLACE in Contest "ONE OFF" Sponsored by Brian Strand 5/11/2011 

* 1st PLACE in Contest "BEST EVER" Sponsored by P.D. 2011
                 
   


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 |

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 | Acrostic |

An Acrostic Reflection

r andomly I stare into
e ach reflective surface
f orever pondering the
l ines of age, pain and joy
e ach one a splendid testament
c ulled from a full life
t eased endlessly, eternally
i nto distorted images
o f the soul of me
n ever quite
s eeing..I

s urely, I am 
n ot this shallow
o nly time can plane my cheek
i nsight my eyes to fade
t urn the plumpness of lip to
c rinkles of mirth
e nlivening the gray
l anguishing in silver
f orever seeing but parts of the
e cstasy I
r eflect


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


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