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Introspection Lyric Poems | Lyric Poems About Introspection

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

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Details | Lyric |

A Stereotype of Me

You thought you had me figured out 
Before you knew my name 
Cause you're you and you're not satisfied 
That I am not the same 

You'll never change the way I love
And you can fight for you're dominion 
But I'm worth a million times the weight 
Of a dogmatist's opinion 

And I know that all that you can see 
Is a stereotype of me 
All that you thought I'd ever be 
Is a stereotype of me

Did you ever think that you could see me 
Past the prejudice you hold 
Past the picture you created 
And all the things that you were told 

You're voice is long since dead to me 
I won't even be provoked 
When it hurt you to see me smile   
The things you said went up in smoke 

And I know that all that you can see 
Is a stereotype of me 
All that you thought I'd ever be 
Is a stereotype of me

By: Kyle Ezra Kriticos


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 | Lyric |

BANGED PENDULUMS


Just when twilight and dawn finally meet in the quiet passage of breaths released... there in that moment, I witness a thousand wishes dancing through the shadows of my mind, each and every one in the form of chiaroscuro marked by restless eclipses black to white. The yearning streaks of a journey creating long and endless days born from arrival and death of flowers as season's rhythms cross the border etched on zodiac runes : a pathway dictated by calibrated blows of a horn trilling spaces in moments caught in the web of hours, to seize glimpses held by ticks of banged pendulums. I find myself wrapped so tightly in woven memories and places that I can hardly breathe or pause when a traffic of past, present chapters slices the flow offered by life as chain-link of minutes quickly grinds collecting people and milestones along railways, while I desperately try to escape the rising and falling by moon-sun, endlessly bartering for more grace... dear time, you steal my " now" through your eternal, impertinent glide. Giorgio V's Surprise Me Contest by nette onclaud


Details | Lyric |

If And When

If you can't stand the words I write,don't read them If you can't stand the sight of me,don't look at me If you can't stand the sound of my voice,don't listen to me If you can't stand to be around me,then leave BUT When you wish you would have read what I wrote,it won't be there When you wish someone would notice you,I won't be there When you wish someone would listen to you,I won't be there When you wish you had someone to talk to,I won't be there *Choose your actions wisely*
Dan Kearley:2-6-12


Details | Lyric |

pseudo artistry

Blood that screams mixes with tears of fears,
Over your hypocrisy and useless years.
Fresh cuts don't matter - your attentions yet wane.
It's just too easy to shut down, I could end this pain.

But, escape artists aren't artists at all.

When life ends the real journey begins, the journey to be
Above imperfection and glorified weakness everyone sees.
Life trickles into the drain of the sink, wash it and pretend
The veil is burning off,but there is only so much fire can mend

Besides, escape artists aren't artists at all.


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


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?


Details | Lyric |

I Am What I Am

My head slightly bent over a table of happiness.

My feet, sod with white lilacs, dance merrily 
to a moon stroke music of twilight night.

My finger-tips childishly sip 
the sweat of quill, like red wine of Mother Earth 
that runs down the skin of my heart.

Down in the chores of primal things 
I have been to the bowl aquarium, mostly at nights 
where I breathed and twitched with the fish, trying 
to catch the warm winks of stars. Ahh, 

I know all about human arts, although I 
dabble in the language of my adopted father; still
I know how to sketch 
in my own words a lovely butterfly, fluttering 
awhile in the night to say hello

and to kiss me, 
ere on a fluffy pillow 
of dreams 
I close my eyes. My name is nothing special, 
but honestly I am what I am… a poetry dancer, dancing 
with emotions for my fictitious lover.



Author’s note:  I wrote it in response to “The Invitation to Write”, by Gather 
Essentials: Writing Challenge, based on Carl Sandburg’s poem “Who Am I?”


Details | Lyric |

The Old Homestead

Orphaned footsteps round the old place.
Pitch black soil, packed deep with bartered
coin and Indian heads – wood and otherwise,

coat her worn leather shoes, Hutterite chic. 
The long land screams within its own silence.
Prairie sage burns somewhere, a ghostly smudge

for the undulating grass and, those it serves.
Its alive scent makes the dead turn towards 
its head - and the barely living turn to listen. 

The impossibly endless horizon holds its bright 
blue at bay, begging acknowledgement for 
its self-professed being and looming enormity.

She looks at the broken window glass and 
through the tattered, delicate gray lace. “Those 
were hers.” She whispers to the one who listens. 

This great-great-granddaughter sees the curtains 
as they once were – wistful in the hot Manitoba 
wind; fresh and lowing with the honest elemental 

scent of aspens, hope and bare-knuckle wash boards; 
always fresh; shifting in the cry for solace in summer 
shadows – never as still as this moments endlessness.

Blowing through the deep brown of splintered pine 
front doors; cracking the announcement of cast iron, 
rot and burnt wood comes the simple statement of – 

I lived. This mother of five young does not cry, 
just yearns to walk in the old ones footsteps;
to know them loved; hear the birdsong through

unbroken bedroom windows for a 5am waking; 
feel the resistance of dough on fingers that beg 
to be broken, and kiss the twisting undead, living. 


The burning of the noonday sun taps her whole,
marking; branding her pale Swedish skin its own.
The red sting of burnt breaks her inward silence, 

welcoming her familiar face home.




© Kristin Reynolds 3 29 2009

*Reposted for John's Summer Celebration Contest. This is a personal celebration; 
celebrating and honoring my great grandparents who settled in Manitoba after leaving 
Sweden and Denmark. This celebrates the summer of family, at least for me. We went there 
every summer until it was gone...


Details | Lyric |

FALL IN LOVE AGAIN

I could look into your eyes tonight
God knows I've missed you everyday
I could be a friend and a guiding light
When you see me will you walk away
Will you let me take you in my arms
Kind of hoping, praying that you might
And if you do I'll never let you go..

Girl, I could fall in love again 
I could fall in love again with you 

I could answer every hard question
Fix love's strings, feel the drumbeat
I want this dance, whisper suggestions
We can muse again just hit repeat
Do you see the rain is starting to fall
Here comes the fire, now feel the heat
Oh, there's something you should know..

Girl, I could fall in love again 
I could fall in love again with you 

Let's begin again it doesn't have to end
I see a rainbow there, yeah you know I care, and..
I could fall in love 
I could fall in love 
I could fall in love again 

I could fall in love 
I could fall in love 
I could fall in love again
Girl, I could fall in love again

Date: 6-23-14
Poet: Dave Wood


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