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Sad Introspection Poems | Sad Poems About Introspection

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

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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 | I do not know? | |

Anger

There it is again
Bubbling up from within
Wretched wrath washing over me
Vile disgusting filth freely flowing
Angry demons seizing control
Forced attrition to evil urges

Screaming 
Yelling
Rants of rage

Watched from within
Helpless
Powerless

Unable to soothe the beast
Surrender to aggression
Until the bile is expelled
Vomited forth in fury
Leaving only the bitter tastes
Of regret and sorrow 


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Tungsten Glow

Tungsten Glow

Ideal's the emptiness amid stone scapes;
Invited souls - two dancers times enfold;
Invoke the past, rose thorns redraw its shapes
the years sustain recalls of feelings' mold.

Recite old scripts - the weather's voice is cold,
an audience of ghosts their steps extol
the shrines remember them on timeless role,
Adventive cadence is their final goal.

Consorted on the broken glass, they bleed
their lives ascended amid rains of red
maintained and held their words, old ends impede
somehow the birds forgot to sing and fled.

The runnel wraiths of emptiness out-traced
existences' odd trails and righteous shed
where acquaintances devoid embraced
- their solitude; and in the woods winds fled.

Rose-feverish their tips caress time's strings;
and dithered silence shines her splendid glow,
lone glances coil on tungsten glowing rings,
and abstinent redraw - their tears redraw.

© 02-24-2013, G. Venetopoulos, All rights reserved
(Surreal - Elegy)


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
impossible
to book a return?


Details | Free verse | |

Again, and again

The doubt and anger are here again
No surprise, my new friend
Believed I could keep it all away
Now it’s about to steal me away
Come steal me away. Again, and again

Why can’t I change the parts I hate? Stupid, lying beautiful face

Hearts are craters, deep as wells
Fill them up and hold on well
Sand and mud, the liquid seeps
Dirty tears and sorrows creep
Creep in to swallow me. Again, and again

Why can’t I change the parts I hate? Stupid, lying beautiful face

Told you, I told you. Remember I did?
This time it was raw, nothing I hid
Unacceptable loathing and regret
Nothing to explain, at least not yet
You will see though. Again, and again

Why can’t I change the parts I hate? Stupid, lying beautiful face

Consuming distraction, love that I know
It’s dying already with no place to go
You won’t agree and you won’t see
It will never be enough for me
You will hate me so. Again, and again

Why can’t I change the parts that I hate? Stupid, lying beautiful face

Let me go, for I am already gone
I’m sorry to make you believe this long
Hopeless rage, directed at you
Walls constructed to block the view
But you will still want me. Again, and again.

I can’t change the parts I hate, and I’ll never be happy again. Again


Details | Free verse | |

Anxious Dissolution

IV

A soul was broken to make room
For dusty halls and labyrinths.
A gossamer, nylon bed-sheet shroud
Enwraps the remnants of that mind.
And no excuses can be made; 
This disease does not justify that one.
I do not sleep deeply, I do not wake easily,
I dream of cities built on sand,
Next to the swelling sea.
Oh, they should have lasted.
Why should they fall?
I dream of timber horses,
Brought between those city walls.
We should have known; we should have known better.

III

But, I am not an honest mystic;
Beware what you ask of me.
I will show truths within the liar's tapestry.
But, you will not believe; no, you cannot believe.

II

I howled for my motherland
When the mutiny began.
I heard the cry of treason; heard the cry and ran.
I saw blood be spilled,
Some of it my own, then
Felt the rest boil, that this could happen in my home.
I saw the battle through, until the very end,
Then wished the traitors pardoned,
Because they were my friends.

I

I cannot tell the difference
Between the sleeping and the dead,
So, I will dole out blankets, and keep the kettle on.
The streets are cracked and dirty,
And they all appear the same:
Shattered glass and roofing tacks
Where I place my bare and weary feet.
I don't want to go on.
But, I must rebuild; I must rebuild.
I have no grass to lay,
The trees and flowers will not grow,
So, I shall use nothing, but mortar, brick, and stone.
It's not the same; it is not the same,
But, I shall call it home.


Details | Verse | |

Tough

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.


Details | Light Poetry | |

My Guitar

My Guitar weeps
And not so gently
It strings together broken tears
It has seen my feeble attempts at love

My Guitar laughs
As I try to serenade
A song that lovers play
It strings together broken romances

My guitar sleeps
For I am not doing to well
In charming your heart
My guitar is bored

My guitar kills me
And steals my girl
They were meant to be it seems
They joined chords and sang

The funeral was brief
The music was good
Guitar music after all
Now they travel onwards

Musical journeys
With not a thought of me
With no guitar
As the ghost of me weeps


Details | Free verse | |

My Left Breast

strange it was there just the other day 
hanging about as usual, 
reminding me in my mirrored image 
of my definite femininity 
now gone, am I less of a woman? 
will you look at me differently, 
or strangely as I do myself? 

I never really gave it much thought before 
of how things come in pairs 
how lonely one would be without the other 
how misshaped one appears, 
no longer jutting forward, 
proclaiming sensuality 
thrusting into the limelight, 

now scars and a flattened ego, 
fill my robe, bras useless without stuffing 
men, look at me in horror, 
women in shock and pity 
and with gratitude, yes that it is not them 
my left breast is missing 
no not missing, taken, stolen...

it was just a lump a few weeks ago 
a tiny pea shaped knob, 
that hid its cancerous intentions
so very well, yet lay in silence waiting 
to steal away that part of me
that defined who I was 
what purpose I served in society 

am I still a woman, a sexual being? 
I'm not sure, my right breast thinks so 
but yearns for its mate, 
the image in the mirror just doesn't seem right 
unequal in its proportions, glaringly lopsided
my left breast is gone, surgically removed  
I can still hear its scream


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


Details | Free verse | |

Wondrous Kite

She walks away.

Girlish and glorious
laughter
floats
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
benumbing
wind. 

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
fly? 

In answer, a quivering.

A wisp.

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

Wondrous.


Details | Rhyme | |

An Open Door

   I used to have an open door,
but I can't find it anymore.
Someone closed it from inside,
where all the painful, bad things hide.
And I think I'm in here too,
a child that knows not what to do.

   Scared and lonely , so afraid,
peering through a darkened shade,
Seeing my life pass me by,
because I'm too afraid to try,
to find someone who has the key,
that unlocks the door and sets me free.

   Is it more than just a game,
to feel something besides the shame?
The child inside me wants to know,
but somehow I just can't let it go.
   I used to have an open door,
but I can't find it anymore.


Details | Rhyme | |

Not Meant To Last

Opening my eyes at birth,
I cried out in shock and pain.
For I found myself on earth,
where life seemed strange and arcane.

I didn't want to be here,
in a would of hate and scorn.
And with clenched fists and a tear,
loudly protested being born.

I traded warmth of the womb,
for a future with no past.
And my birth will end in doom,
because life's not meant to last.

God must want souls to suffer,
or at least it seems that way.
For life gets even tougher,
and doesn’t ease when I pray.

I search for a glint of hope,
in a world devoid of light.
And though I've learned to cope,
misery’s not far from sight.

One day I will be no more,
I will simply slip away.
And death will slam shut the door,
that opened on my birthday.


Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Erratic

          Oh, Poisiden, you disrupt my sea;
                Alter not your color for the likes
                    Of miserable me;
                       Your mouth foams in revelry
                       As I gasp desperately for 
                       One remaining breath;
                     My rosary floats upon your
                Fickle friendship of fury,
         For your whims leave me
      With goose flesh as
    The grapevine wraps itself
    Around my throat ~
    I bear witness to antiquated
      Notes which deceive;
         The tongue of  thy counterpart
            Scorches this bosom...
                Nevermore do I grieve,
                    Yet I swim vainly;
                       The chastity belt on land
                           It does remain,
                              Drowned dreams of delusion ~ 
                                Un- new;
                                     I  lurk within the shadow of
                                        Door number two.


Details | Free verse | |

Betting on Nothing

By committing to nothing, one retains infinite options.
I have hid inside these words for moons and seasons and New Year’s toasts.
The lone wolf roams fertile pastures unfettered.
The thrill of the hunt.
The chase.
An empty bed is the hope of a new body’s sleeping curve.
Tomorrow becomes yesterday.
“The mystery of mysteries is the gateway to marvels.”
I stopped looking long ago.

The faces have blurred into a montage of emptiness.
Come and go; came and went.
I never bothered much to be bothered.
There aren’t many memories
And I am thankful for that.
Wet fingers and licked lips’
Blood on my hands.
Wasted time.
The years run on like a favorite sitcom gone bad.
It all should have been retired years ago.

It is easier to stay afloat and roam the big waters alone
Than set up camp on an island and face a face.
No problems.
No worries.
No connection.
Freedom is all that you cannot commit to
And who surrenders to nothing is he who lives in frigid shadows of fear.
Maybe I have never truly known warmth.

I walk the streets like a war-worn shoulder.
A little cold, a little distant, a little too silent.
The words I have are recycled fragments of someone else’s life.
I don’t offer much.
Poker face.
Can you read my concrete stare?
I have an entire universe hiding in my back pocket
But I’m scared to show you.
It’s been so long since I groped or even fondled my own life.
I’m not sure what I do or don’t have to offer.
I just keep making bets and upping the ante.


Details | Free verse | |

Overwhelmed

Caught up in this circle sphere of integration; I swoon 
as the feeling of worthlessness overwhelms me. 
Nothing seems to remedy as this depression lulls me 
into its claws of wretchedness.
 Sweet and salty smiles that slink into your mind 
seems to melt the drowning feeling of despondency.  
Still there is the burning bubbling vibes of insanity that circumvents any relief.


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.


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.


Details | Quatrain | |

My Torment

A fleeting still small voice tries to warn me
A sudden overwhelming desire to run
The tell tale taste of metallic flakes
Means my nightmare has begun

Everything around takes on a ghostly pallor
A landscape of anguish and corrosion
A moment of silence before the violence
The flash of light, the brilliant explosion

The sound of the Sun fills my ears
Fear, my throat, though none escapes me
And paralyzed I clench my eyes
As my tormentor prepares to rape me

And it's endeavor is absolute
Consumption is its ultimate goal
It exists to chase me so it can erase me
Whilst feasting on my soul

And then that familiar salty smell 
The sudden rush of warmth so stings
Engaging me relentlessly
In vile unspeakable things

Over and over and over again
My limbs stretched and wrought
As it's teeth tear my bones bare
It's mind defiles my thoughts

And still wounds beget wounds beget wounds
As in the mouth of madness I suffer
And with every injury he just seems to be
Rougher and rougher and rougher

Then just as suddenly as it began it ceases
And for a moment I am clearer
And then the true horror of it all
Is revealed in a darkly lit mirror

There in front of me stands my destroyer
Face flush with it's fill of my pain
And I find that it's eyes and mine
My God, they’re one in the same


Details | Free verse | |

You Can't Hurt Me

Resounding echoes awaken the child
demons in the attic beckon unto him
stark fear grips his Vick's laden chest
shivers vibrate rusty springs of down

footsteps creak closer upon loose floorboards
while steamed filled pipes play taps
a somber teddybear snarls
causing the world to be still

foolish nuns, God doesn't want to "get me"

the sting of a ruler splinters a left hand
blood spurts upon faces of laughter
evil little boy too wicked for a mother
affliction runs in the family

Florence became flop because she always fell
polio never whipped her ass
just abused her now and then
she healed with a smile

Even humility has its price

Jimmy Dean wore sunglasses
maybe his eyes were bloodshot
or maybe he was a child of an alcoholic
and they became part of his attire

degenerate eye disease, masturbation
spattering or battering
does it really matter when you can't see
or understand the difference between ADD and ADHD

Psych 101: Crack can be Prozac

Iron gates surround a new residence
protecting the innocent who peer from outside
rehabilitation means refining bad habits
like those on the outside who have mastered them

twelve years of bars and games people play
provide an education unto itself
seclusion can be the deciding factor
between murder or suicide

self righteous judges choose life

recidivism is a revolving door
of vicious cycles with no engines
only propellers called co-dependants
or co-defendants, take your pick

life repeats itself over and over
only the circumstances change
yet the merry-go-round stops
when the flowers are arranged

Why are most tombstones gray

scared, afraid to die
are you saved?
from what, ourselves
you can't hurt me

Bob Shank-Nov. 30th, 2006


Details | Free verse | |

Soul Stones

We swallow boulders:
(lead words, molasses covered prejudice, glass shards of promises long broken)

Mouths open wide and heads tipped back
like Hawaiian fire eaters.

Chipped teeth are bits of porcelain history,
sliding down our throats in rivers of neglect
and acid.

The stones settle,

BOOM...

      BOOM...

            BOOM...

Our stomachs are filled up, anvil weight
'till we can hardly sit, hardly stand, or walk.

We drag our feet in pain, as the quiet indicator that
we've had rocks for breakfast,
lunch, dinner,  for years,
in the hopes that someone will recognize
the broken concrete footprints behind us
and touch us gently on the forearm:

"Honey, are you alright?"

(and isn't it the first sweet trickle of kind words that crumble
the already cracking facade?)

There's no stopping the torrent then,
tsunami tears and a heaving, convulsing
to the point of cathartic vomit-

boulders of every shape and size
tumbling out of our mouths and filling the room;
broken teeth and granite eyes 
until we no longer see the floor, the walls...

And then serenity.

The hand has moved to the shoulder,
forming a universal hug.

"I'm here now... and you're ok."

We stand up, together, and leave that room,
a soundless void of yesterday,
to absorb the impermeability of stones,
carrying our gait buoyant, without gravity.

No weight at all now, and barely a second glance,

but to turn out the light - and lock the door behind us...




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 | Free verse | |

The missing me

With shadows in the dark,
Facing atrocities of the cold,
Yet drenched in the sweat,
I walk down the street

Am bound to follow what others passed by,
Crime it is as if else I try,
Tears follow the path of my cheek,
And it’s the only way my eyes speak,
Lips of mine when turn dry.

I smile I really try to,
To be happy as if I was made to,
I speak of something I don’t know
But there’s what my heart knows,
That’s what my eyes ponder,
And that’s what untold but true,
Yes I know,
Yes I do,
I am missing me in me,
Yes I know,
Yes I do,
I am missing being me……….


Details | Free verse | |

I fell in like with you

Inspired by one of my favorite bands, Rise Against, and the song is called,
“Ever-changing” (Acoustic). Please listen to this song if you don’t know of it. It’s raw &
powerful.

“Have you ever been a part of something? That you thought would never end. But then, of
course, it did.” –Rise Against

“I fell in ‘Like’ with you”

With her smile
I melted unto oblivion’s redemption
Candy coated perceptions, windows’ gap
Seeping brilliance refreshment

Uncertainty resolution, polished
Absorbed into closeness sun
Yet these eyes still…see
Butterflies taking notice, missing you…as you stood in front of me

Strong, yet soft legs
Foundation of my face to rest upon
Scars…fading
A cremated sin 

Yet, elongated moments of silence
Created abruption’s new face

The face of change
When she turned to me and said
“I’m not sure, anymore”

Emotional lullaby, rocking me to sleep
New battles with spectral flashback
Trying to get under my skin, a drunken tick facing demise

Phoenix’s sunrise, rejuvenating my recycled defenses
Yet, today, these rays just aren’t bright enough to burn sadness away

And with these sounds of storm clouds & Fall on horizon’s breath
These grounds are so familiar, yet bittersweet
This heart doesn’t want to be enlightened by karma today

It wants to be held for how it shines now

Denied…distance wins again today
Slavery whipped punishments in miles and blocks
This must end

Because I try to keep lines open to get a call from you
Yet all I hear are booty calls with busy signals

And yet something has kept me here too long
But can they leave me, if I’m already gone?

Something has kept me here too long
Karma’s laughter

But, through it all, I will shine

…

How I wish my mere presence can bring joy’s tear to her eye

Sadly though, now, the lines are drawn
Yet I wonder if this feeling is gone
Have the best parts of this…come and gone?

…

Maybe I’ll never know the truth

Perhaps she was misguided by jealousy’s deprivation
Deteriorating heart’s splendor

While I fell in “like” with her

Perhaps “Better Man 2.0” appeared from Cloud 9’s fallacy

While I fell in “like” with her

Perhaps
She held onto the past

As I, drawn to waterfall’s edge
Allowed myself

To let go…and F
A
L
L

© Drake J. Eszes
“We adore those who hurt us. Yet, we hurt those who adore us.” -Anonymous


Details | Couplet | |

One Toy Soldier

One Toy Soldier

Little toy soldiers are all put away
Training is over for this time of day.
Where do these little boys go now to play?
Away from their home to die in the fray.

Little toy weapons are no longer there
But boxed in attics by mothers with care--
Where keepsakes still hold a lock of his hair--
While rockets and missles challenge his fare.

Little toy bad guys and little toy good
Haze in the distance when misunderstood.
Where fall the lilies on long crates of wood
And each gave their all--as good soldiers should...

Little toy soldiers are coming back home...
Mothers are weeping, laments all alone
Where flags lie folded--the gift of Shalom...
As the long box is lowered...'neath the loam

One little toy soldier is placed on the top
Remembering All--so that None be Forgot.

   
deborah burch©                            
4/14/2012

  


Details | Free verse | |

Deaf and Gone

I am whatever you say I am...
but, let's get back to reality...

       Three short years ago, this room shined welcome mats across a screen of doldrums.
A place of unfamiliarity that screamed, 
"You don't belong!"
Yet, a voice of reason spoke and said,
"Expand yir' roots. Venture beyond the comfort zone. Academia resides inside that room, but know you won't be alone."
Repeatedly,brainwaves declined what my wife and editor had told me.
I'd say,
"no way, I'm givin' up my soul for free, they read, they pay, like it's always been, the way it's going to always be!"
Unbeknownst to me one day, and with a slight of hand, my "Open Sores" were put on display and surprisingly more than a handful of great ladies and nice guys began to give feedback on what I had devised. 
This interaction was something very new, helpful, and impressive. For a change, it was something real.
For years, those around me were quick to give praise with hidden reasons. Constructive criticism is amazing, and I welcomed being corrected or set straight.
Now there are those who choose to shut me down without explanation, and call me names.
DO NOT mistake me for sophomoric! These words bleeding from my guts have no style and need no approval. There is no thinking involved here, no plan. If you don't like it, fine...don't censor or bracket me in. So what if I am illiterate?  If you don't like "street poetry" or the pathetic stuff I write, don't read it. If I offend you, tell me.
We should welcome those who are different than us. 
Words of truth inspire movement, like fire.
I came to this room to expand my horizons, step outside the box, learn, help, grow. 
There will be no apologies dealt for being different, or for being labelled as something uncomfortable to you. 
This has been an ok room so far, but there is some clique trickanery going on.
If the dictionary must come into play, let me recommend looking up the term "Poetic License."
True, I may not be the writer you prefer, or aspire to be....but tread carefully my friend, for you have no idea of my profession. I've made a fine living, for a good long time, spewing words onto paper. I came from nothing, and may still be nothing to you...still, I do what I love, have no boss.
I am not an aspiring writer who dreams of a life, I live my dream. In conclusion, I must wish you luck in finding what you peddle poetry for. Until then, keep 


Details | Light Poetry | |

Glutton

This's the world of dreams  and 
reveries
Where I think ev'ry that reels,
After a thousands times,
would as same beliefs things 
besought me,
Is it a mere dream? 


Details | Narrative | |

Chinese Scrolls

Poems from old and yellowed
Chinese scrolls make me sad,
make me sad: stored in shiny,
lacquered boxes of perfumed teak,
they crumble when unrolled.
And the hands that must have written
Chinese thoughts upon the rolls:
little, leathern, patient hands,
painting poems -- stroke and stroke
and careful, delicate stroke --
stopping, meanwhile, to twirl
a waxed mustache --
for someone else, a foreigner,
who cannot understand, to read,
mull over, and be sad.
And this when Chinese thoughts
are gone, and tiny, trembling
Chinese hands are dust.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Mask We Choose


Page unwritten  hand never to be 
played.
Outcasts sitting at center stage.
When you never showed love.
It's no need to question why no one ever stayed.

And you never wondred and new better
to ask.
Cause people grew tired of the game.
And you of the mask.

Deep emotin with which like
overgrown children we play.
Gone in a second.
Was it love or just another day.

Torn sails endless flow.
Blocks and miles.citys and backroads.
Like any flock we scatter.
Only to lose track the futher we go.

Dellusion speaks well amongnst friends.
You see it's the last farewell.
But with truth in are thoughts 
everyone pretends.

Are you okay everyone does ask.
You give a expected reply.
And slip into oblivian slowley
fading behind your mask.


Details | Haiku | |

Silence

Silence can deceive                                        
One's quiet to understand
Another to destroy