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Lost In Introspection by m.n.i.w, m.n.i.w
Introspection On Toast by Zerbst, Isaiah
introspection i by Geiger, Paul
Honest Introspection by Rocha, Andres
An Introspection by Khan, Sadat
Abstract Introspection by Allen, Skyy
A Fellow's Introspection 2K12 by Mitchell Jr., Anthony O.
MY INTROSPECTION by Devnath, BL
My Silly Introspection by Treetop, Lizzie
INTROSPECTION by GENDER by Trusty, John

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The Best Introspection Poems

Details | Introspection Poem | |

A Long Loud Sigh

genius?
sometimes you are in its minimal spotted light...sometimes!
other times you just know you've been touched and you freeze,
moved but frozen...like a stranger it moves in, does its work and leaves.

...maybe it's been a while since you two spoke...
when the dead sea still hosted life,
the hanging gardens of babylon grew in sinc with the breath of the planet,
before the tower of pisa started to lean or mayan buildings were in ruin.

so you write words...any words...they might at least soothe your hurt
hold your heart in a protective shield.
you know how crippling unrequited love can be.
do you still dream of its hug...genius?

life and love share more than a first letter
(like the first letter you wrote under the veil of inspiration).
they also share good and evil...it's a flip of the coin.
either way is fine with you. you'd bathe in holy water or sell your soul.
life, love...passion...somewhere in there...it lives, genius.

all of nature a reflection through its transparent figure glows dark 
like the shadows live in the radiant illumination of evening rays.

so let me speak of us!
recently when i tried to hold you...
you were like a ghost in the bright of day,
a phantom out of its element...
there was nothing of you...i could embrace.
when i tried to enter you a freezing cold ran through me like a winter brook.
you exhaled me 
as if i were fog on a deserted country road invisible to absent eyes.
still you were my drug of choice.
addicted, i chased the dragon...you...genius.

memories fill me...
days when we would paint words,
stitch in a metaphor or two,
weave in music, 
write instruments to fill in the spaces,
ordain a voice.

i remember...

you wanted to taste me
i was overwhelmed 
how you put your fingers on my lips 
how you licked them...you...genius.

you were that giant pine i would climb in the dead of winter
(why do they say that "the dead of winter"? winter will die 
when hell freezes over. winter isn't death it's purgatory.)
the one with the needles that punctures human skin.

come to me again and touch me...
like the butterfly does the wind...barely but thoroughly.
(is it true that just a tiny flutter of their wings could be 
the start of a hurricane? are the icebergs melting?)
i didn't just write that out loud...did i...with you I'm shy...genius.

GENIUS?

fine!
hide.
don't show yourself.
don't speak to me.
fine!

don't bother with rising the sun today.
forget those showers you create your magic arc with,
vacuum away all the plants.
lower your wall of blue.
i'm not interested anymore in those pillowy shapes i use to love so.

i've always known it is fire that cleanses, water that burns,
it is the moon that breaks the heart,
the stars that slaps the face...with...i don't know...reality.
i've always known by the time we see a star...
in real time...it's already extinguished...already dead.

it is our friends that will use us...our heroes that will lie to our face...
our blood will betray our trust...our teachers will fail us...
our leaders treat us like just another job...
the devout that will exhibit hatred.

still i believe. no matter what else...the rose will always survive.
the petals deceiving. they will repel all that is unholy.
grab it by the neck and squeeze out its black ooze,
leaving a gentle soul there to admire its adversary.
don't even get me started on the orchid
or even the flowers all...alphabetically.

i dare confront the beauty of nature's art unframed...
canvas loose to admire...genius!

i miss you but i am out of tears.
do drop in though. 
i can offer you a cup of dry warmth...
soothing like burning logs that crackle with laughter.

or 

take you to my secret place.
behind the camouflage of forests dense,
where vines grow through spiral staircases 
made of turtle shells and dressed in discarded snake skins.
green is the theme there. it is everywhere,
unabridged, unabated, unaffected, undisturbed 
with a fuming, burning, yearning to be touched.
so let's...let's grab...hold...squeeze..
feel free from the cheap paradigm offered.

i don't think you know, even while you sleep, i hold your hand, genius.

dream a full rainbow on a fingernail moon night,
feel february twenty ninth its absolute might,
taste fully the slight of a pheasant in flight,
yearn eternal life, wish a vampire's bite,
concoct rhymes nicely fluffed with built in sight.

genius?
on this sombre morning the sun is blinding.
damn my eyes.
there is a negative entity drapes our children's world.
shame on us...shame on you...i need you.
i am reduced to an objective observer.
life glides on the little wings of its carrier,
its final resting point in the hands of the wind.
another life carried away on a worker bee,
busy stealing nectar from a succulent bud.
a stowaway hangs on for dear life to the flyers leg.
gets off at the next flower.
meets up with a companion to create a new life.

genius?,
everything changed when I met you.
was the sun rising or the mountain sinking.
was that an orange globe against a blue sky
or a lit round hole in a sad wisp of air.

i'll play a keyless piano if you'll paint me a horizon I can reach.
i'll sing you a ballad with a single note...

i walked into my life without consideration.
maybe crawled.
all the same...
when do I get a choice.
when will they stop holding death over my head.

if i could direct a few more plays with you as my guide...
my art, my life! genius i long for your influence...
even one last time to see your face, 
unite and give you one last kiss...goodnight.




April 1 2015
Maurice Yvonne
Sponsor: Linda
Contest Name:A Million Dollar Poem






More great poems below...


Details | Introspection Poem | |

A Ripple In Time

A new borns cry
Tearful last good bye

Swaying waves of golden prairie grass
Shifting desert dunes - an hour glass

An acorn dropping among forest leaves
To mighty oak - a lifetime of dreams

The changing moon - to full again
Each morn' the sun - new skies begin

Eagles soar high - our hearts go there
These ripples in time - we all share

©Donna Jones

Details | Introspection Poem | |

I Think Of You - Where You Bloom - 4


A transparent melody paints the walls
in the coloured scent of fresh linen.

The changing of sheets in the morning air
can not erase our dance from evening last.

Outside a late spring asleep too long
with no blooms until June, awakens.

Fully opened September flowers 
perfume late night conversations.

Looking outside reveals
only one set of footsteps in both directions.

The days when I would watch you walk,
lagging behind with a smile.

The moss grows wild in the forest...
trees surrounded by families of mushrooms.

The word "family" 
so I...

An I for an I
and soon the whole world will be in love.

How I long your hug,
your body encompassing mine.

God exists
no greater proof...

With a single tear I
lay flowers where you bloom...and I

i think of you.




March 20 2015
Armand



Details | Introspection Poem | |

I Think Of You - After The Fall - 5

I could have cried like a bride at a funeral
Bled out, dry. I could have but I was already
dehydrated...I

i think of you

I wish someone could turn the 
moon back on, turn the dimmer back up
on the stars. I can't stand these dark 
black nights void of even one tiny ray 
of light. I am tired of walking blind through
the evenings of my everyday life...I

i think of you

Yesterday I dreamt the night sky exploded.
Bright white pinholes of light appeared .
It was as if an invisible hand was holding a huge 
Fourth of July sparkler against a waterfall of black gold.
I watched the oil well blaze. The whole Earth was on fire.
The world was burning hot. Without fear I walked through 
the flames warm, comforted as if I was being held in his light...I

i think of you

Still in the grip of my sleep suddenly an ocean appears.
its water rises and shapes itself like the head of a dragon.
Its neck is shaped like a Chinese silk fan. At the same time 
it is just a huge wave. The kind surfers expect to find in heaven.
There is nothing threatening about this apparition.
Quite the opposite like the fire it feels as if it is a part of me...I

i think of you

Do I miss you? 
Miss you? I died with you! 
There's a knock at my door but I'm not here.
Life's going to have to wait. I'm in hiding.
I feel safe inside my walls. In reality my bedroom light
is all the outdoors I need. It is my Sun. I hate here without you. 
So I lie in my bed motionless starring into my nothingness and I...

i think of you

(Frozen!)

As time passes...introspective...I begin to understand.
The earth, the air, the fire, the water all the elementals are him. 

(I begin to thaw!)

He is with me even in my ignorance he has never left me. 
You can take the lord into your heart without a word by accepting his light.

(Slightly cold!)

A deeper, purer understanding. A trust that rejects the dark no 
matter how black. I am a part of all, a part of one as you are. A part of me. 

(Warm!)

I open my curtains...watch the dark exit
hurried as love rushes in. Firmly in his hold...I

I think of you...

Once again with you.
Fully! We...the power of one...I 

I think of us.

The Beginning!


March 25 2015
Armand





Details | Introspection Poem | |

BEHIND THE SMILE

Just another sinking tear
In this river full of pain
Racing fast to nowhere
A world that's gone insane
Hope committed suicide
Before I had the chance
Forced to live without you
Teased by fool's romance

But it's alright you'll never know
I'm living dead but I don't show
Empty words and hollow eyes
Behind the smile I hide my lies

Everyone has the answer
None of them are right
The blind lead the blind
Pretending to have sight
Love is such a cruel illusion
A distracting fool's delight
Left me poor and naked
Under a waterfall of night

But it's alright you'll never know
I'm living dead but I don't show
Empty words and hollow eyes
Behind the smile I hide my lies

Handcuffed by our society
Scorned to a water grave 
Drowning in a sea of lonely
And too far gone to save

But it's alright you'll never know
I'm living dead but I don't show
Empty words and hollow eyes
Behind the smile I hide my lies

*Song depicts an incredibly tough story
Contest: T. Knight's "Knight Writer's Club Grand Openning"

3-22-15

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Details | Introspection Poem | |

I Think Of You - Upon Reflection - 3


A reflection of the coloured pencil drawn sky
skates on the glass smooth surface below it.
While a rebellious group of shades take their positions 
on a glorious stage to express themselves artistically and
I...

i think of you

Wisps of clouds shaped like a palm leaf
fan the winds that stoke the fire
of a randomly sketched sunset.
I...

i think of you

The cool of an ocean breeze 
travels the shadows of this low lit evening.
Caresses my skin like the essence of romance.
Enthralled by the allure of a candle lit sky,
I...

i think of you...

Our French Bakery early mornings.
Café au lait and croissants.
Our freesia soaked baths.
Your mink soft body.
Its milk and honey scent.

As I fall off 
the edge of the world,
I...

i think of you.




March 19 2015
Armand





Details | Introspection Poem | |

Hot And Cold Comes The Night


LIST POETRY - A FUTURISTIC INTERPRETATION You must know I cried yesterday and I think I broke the world so I braided some words into twine planted some sweet and sour coated seeds I grew free standing expressions and then I joined them with left over thread to present these interlocking pieces in their proper order regardless of the number they wear in an attempt to confuse and deceive. I offer this humble list for your reading enjoyment It is an honour to have you visit my page. The pleasure I assure you is all mine WORDS ON PAPER - THE LIST FIVE I loved you centuries before we were born. You lived in my dreams before I ever slept. When others wasted time picking flowers I waited for when it was time to pick you. Love calls you in the natural scent of your partner. You'd feel their touch in the vacuum of outer space. Your desire for them would melt away the ice age. I want to find a door in the brightest part of the sky I could open to erase what was, to shine a light so bright it, like a book of golden words, would write ideas so vital as to eradicate even a suggestion of our mournful past. I want to be that magician who does not bother with illusion but rather heals wounds and shatters burden. TWO We were at the fair, joviality in the air. A memory filed, I was a young child holding balloons floating round like full moons in vivid colours bright. Fixed on this joyous sight I was on Cloud Nine proud these were mine. If I had not let go of them. If I hadn't watched them as they flew higher and higher as my heart sunk lower and lower I might of never learnt what it felt like - hurt. Hope gloats, hope floats. either your way or just away. THREE sometimes the afternoon sun is.....too hot to walk barefoot........on the concrete path still even then.......I refuse to wear my hat I guess I'll never change, I'm just like that. sometimes when I jump in the lake in late summer... with all of my clothes on...I do it in the evening......as I go down...way down to the bottom...there's a gentle peace overtakes me..I want to stay down like a rock... revel in the ecstasy...not swim back up..........not ever SEVEN ours was a paper mâché love living in a cut out cardboard home with a macaroni art painted lawn and nothing real to call our own nothing solid that we could hold. we tried stacking lego bricks but you have to be able to pop your cheek to qualify as a kid - to get a license to build. the castle we assembled didn't pass the test. so much for fairy tales - hello reality check. we rolled the dice but our thimble went straight to jail and our mouse ended up trapped. can you hear that buzzing the operation failed. where are you going? your tricycle is still in the shop and I might as well tell you..............I have no eights................."go fish!" we fell through the bunny hole where i - jack fell ddddownnn nnnnnnn and broke my crown and you - jill came tumbling aaaaaaaaaaafterrrrrrrrrrrrrrr EIGHT it is a choreographed ballet our love stands strong legs at the base digging deep build roots delicate hands branched out reach high long slim fingers define twigs draw space the body of our trunk thick sweet filled music fills our human needs one sound wind pixies dance meticulously the air sunlight leaks effectively through dark spots lifts carries holds and shapes our smiles it is a choreographed ballet our love in sync our bodies their senses once immersed in I now us ONE I know the last thing I want to feel as I leave this world, it is your lips on mine. When I take my last breath I want to feel yours with its loving touch. NINE Always, no matter the roar or intensity of the storm how severe the attack even out of the norm Always, i offer my hand with sincerity aim to deal with it peacefully. Always! SIX then suddenly it hits like a swarm of locus. a deep dark manifestation that greases my mind my very existence in its unforgiving sense of doom. every bone stiffens, when I move, a sound of dead dried out forest twigs breaking against the boots of hikers echoes in the confined space of my skull. i reach for a pill slowly it dissolves under my tongue i wait and i wait and i wait ... my body is soaked in a sweat with its own cold and hot tap. i assume the position, lying on an unstable floor. the creature depression is now in full control of my faculties. this too i will survive ...that is what i do...what i do...this is what i do.......somehow i survive. FOUR there is a deafening hush... silently raging through the core of my existence...still...I am humbled by the light and the love I have witnessed in my brief appearance...........here on Earth there is a river...that walks at my side... walks with me........at the same stride... April 14 2015 Armand

Details | Introspection Poem | |

I Think Of You - Ground Zero - 1

I Think Of You - Ground Zero (Part 1)

Leaving under a blood moon
                in a jet plane rising
  los angeles falls behind me
and I...

You.
Two.

                              Clouds dance
            to the song of the spiders.
Latent sun rays fall on me like rain...I 

...They say third time's the charm.
On planes again.
A sky...endless... and then finally 
from the other end of the world to here.
A continent, an island,
an australian flower drunk on wine.
Her...uniqueness lends to her beauty.
...and I

A fourth night.
A church spire at sunset.
At a distance bats fill the sky,
resemble a smoke plume.
...I 

I plead the fifth.
It's all these moons.
Tonight a hunter's moon.
She's unable to hide 
even with her bowl of clouds.
It's no help.
She has no spoon.
                     Her luminous rays give her up.
Moonshine in the moonlight over the sea.
...I 

I count...five, 
six...on the beach.
A purple nightshade,
a sand flower,
Irish eyes speak uniquely to me.
....I 

I, you...
you can't roll a seven with one die.

Back on a plane.
A snow fog blinding.
From my window seat a one of a kind view.
Alone,
...I

 I eight...ate...need to eat.

Africa...a Safari.
A plant chloroform green
has holes like cheese.
A large swiss leaf.
I laugh and I...I distract myself.

A stitch in time beats nine.
 Back in North America.
A dilapidated fortress stares down 
an overwhelming thunderhead.
...I 

I camp out.
It requires a tenth...tent.
An Eagle never blinks.
No eye lids.
An unimpeded view.

...but I...I surrender.
There is no place in the world
I can escape.
...I 

i think of you.

You are living art.
Here.
Now.
What I perceive 
is what I live.
I perceive us.

I can picture you.
I am photography,
the camera, the lens.
I absorb your image,
process it.
A form of plagiarism

I didn't borrow.
I stole.
Inhaled you but 
...I
I dream
and I...

...i think of you.



Armand
March 11 2015





Details | Introspection Poem | |

I Think Of You - But I - 2

The rain outside plays games with the webs that cloud my mind,
I think I hear a tune. A drum solo that heralds memories buried deep
and sealed in concrete. Even the locked safe with five feet deep of steel
can not resist the lightning strike of the Goddess of Thunderstorms...I

...i think of you.

A pain from yesteryears thought dead rises from the ashes...

I think...No! 
No! I will fight this.
Forget when I flew too close to the sun 
my feathered wings singed.

I fight...I do...I try...I do...but I...

i think of you...

You,
your fresh baked sugar cookie scent,
your China Doll moonlight white complexion.

I think of you...and I...I weep

I on the mountain, exposed
as vultures tear at my flesh.
Devour my organs like so much fodder 
and everyday whole again...
the creatures hover to start anew.

In my sorrow,
in my physical pain 
I attempt to resist...but I...

i think of you.

Iodine flows through my veins.
My screams echo.
My blood drenched tears 
flow like a mountain stream
and i pray
and i whisper the word "mercy"

and still...

still...I

i think of you.



March 16 2015
Armand



Details | Introspection Poem | |

Caring For My Mother - A Letter To A Loving Friend


I sit here alone...wondering...how much longer this...and in hearing 
the question a silent icy fear blankets my body...the answer would 
come wearing both masks...tragedy...comedy...this is my life. with
freedom comes death...it hangs over me like a Mexican piñata filled 
with chocolate covered blades...so each day firmly slipped into 
neutral I exist...barely a choice to live...so I ask myself...how
did I get here...the answer comes thundering from up above...
a dead poet speaks...son that is the path you chose at your fork 
in the road... you don't argue the truth...you just throw cold water on 
your face...no...you step into a frigid shower...cleanse your thoughts
...stand in defeat happy to feel something even if it is just the pain of 
your nerve endings screaming...soaking wet and naked is the only life 
you presently afford yourself...there is no one to hear your tears...
what little sound they make rolling down your cheeks...they are not 
self pitying but rather wanting...of a loss so deep...what in your own 
self appreciation defined you...you want back your art...it...that so 
often led you back to the promised land...still you are not that hot 
headed fool you once were...you will not stand on the mountain only 
to shatter the tablets with their ten commandments...a cooler head 
prevails...so you think...like a soap opera...these are the days of my
life...I am strong and vibrant...yes I am and I will walk as slowly as I 
must towards my light and yes I will come out the other side a better 
man for this. 

08~01~2015
Armand

Details | Introspection Poem | |

Just Within Reach



just within reach?

things!
lots of things!

stuff one could collect,
especially graphic novels
with a writer that made you wish
you had a photographic memory
so you would never forget even one 
consonant or one vowel he wrote.
with an artist who used a pencil
like Van Gogh used a paint brush
except better - or - only better
...you choose...edit this yourself
using that memory I referred to earlier on.

every girl that walked by me 
when I was a teen - whose 
fragrance lingered inside quotation 
marks that sang the words
"without you I'll be alone".
every woman that walked by me
when I was a teen - whose strut pulled
at my heart to follow and accept their logic
"yes I'm your teacher but why let a little
technicality like that get in the way of true lust"

jobs loads of them that had ladders
with only one rung at the top that got 
me thinking "what are you waiting for?
this was made for you. three months 
and you'll own the joint."
careers that giggled like choir boys
stuffing their faces at the local pizzeria 
thinking 'life never gets better than this'.
careers wishing I would hop on for the ride whispering
in my ear "shut up and do me " and then screaming "YES...
YES..." followed up by even more screaming "YES...YES and ending
in a soprano round of "Jimmy Crack Corn and I don't care..."

sports that skated by me like home runs
that scored two points going through the 
field goal posts of the end of the spikes of
a soccer player taking the three point shot
with only five seconds left on the clocked
filly getting her first hole in one hell of a boxing
match point to win Wimbledon for the fourth
stroke in a rowing competition.

disciplines that courted me with their indignant 
stern voices yelling "can you handle me child?"
disciplines that came with costs...heavy costs. 
disciplines that paraded themselves like supermodels 
dressed in high couture walking the runways in paris france 
where bilingual tourists outside sat in fancy 
outdoor cafés smoking Gauloises unfiltered cigarettes.

all of this and more, 
everything just within reach...

I TOOK,

I took and
I held, 
I embraced, 
I romanced, 
I seduced, 
I savoured,
I treasured, 
I lived, 
I loved,
I respected...
...I never took for granted 
and in time I moved closer and closer 
to that which was outside my reach...

I hoped, 
I dreamt, 
I acted 

soon enough it was ALL...just within my reach.

without regret
I claimed everything I wanted.
I called it my art...gave it everything I had and more
and I thank God he gave me the strength 
to digest everything just within my reach 
then to succeed beyond my reach!




April 23 2015
Just within your reach 
always...my love!
Armand





Details | Introspection Poem | |

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 | Introspection Poem | |

''and that comes from within''

 ~~

if I had all the money that I ever wanted,
                  I suppose that I could travel the world;

       live in a better home, buy designer clothes and stuff,

  if money was no object in my life . . . 

                     but you see money cannot help me,
each day my health is more delicate, slipping further away;

       and all the money in the universe will not change a thing,
                               this is my struggle and my daily reality . . . 

                                         the things I give myself are simple,

relaxing music to soothe this weary soul;
peace, tranquility and love to ease my pain,
and I ask the Lord for acceptance . . . 

             in meditation I try to fathom the why,
                                           
                      of course, with money I could go to a fancy retreat;
but a corner in my bedroom is set aside for meditation and relaxing,
and it is there I have placed peaceful things that cost very little . . . .

     perhaps with money I could get better drugs,
                but no drug is going to change this girl's destiny;

                                                this I know deep in my heart and soul, 
                       I have for a long, long time . . . 

I think a lot about my past and life so far,

                              the paths I took or did not take;
                              the things I said or did not say,
        could money have changed my journey in any way . . . 

                                     a warm bath, a cozy bed, a sweet purring cat,
                                                    paper and pen so I can write;
               my laptop within reach, a walk in nature listening to the birds,
      a loved one to hold my hand  . . . .

      these are my indulgences and they may not seem like much to you,

                              but I feel like the wealthiest person in this world;
              for money cannot buy happiness nor can it buy life,
                                      all I need is the indulgence of tranquility . . . 

                            ''and that comes from within''



_______________________________-
January 28 , 2015

Narrative


For the contest, Indulgence, sponsor Shadow Hamilton

First Place



Details | Introspection Poem | |

AS FATHER IS TO HIS DAUGHTER


Passing through framed windows like ours, I recall your tales of reckless war and lost friends that burned your innocence at 21... and though you claimed flashes of courage, moist eyes poured vulnerability looking calm, undaunted. We both searched deeply into our souls as a father is to his young daughter, that I wanted to let you know, it was alright; but that mound of shoulders turned away. Down the years as officer and gentleman, Time stole long weeks, absent from your dining chair, leaving me resentful and bitter on hardened sills until you arrive under crawling dock of stars. But in free moments, how you cherished me so; waking my cheeks at 3 am to race the winds, to fly with a shooting neon, laughing with a blue moon. You spoke of faith and honor if life dared a shame, oh mild scent of your arms cuddling my girlish dreams... until off you rode suddenly on heaven’s wheel. I see you through all framed windows like ours, that even if my iced breaths needed you more as small flowers thirsted for rain, my anger was a cry for love’s company... “ I have adored you in moments of distance and nearness, if not always, then for all eternity.” Have I forgotten to open this, my soft, broken sigh? Dad, everything is all right. The Confessional Contest

Details | Introspection Poem | |

Windowpanes

An ancient river, centuries-old shops and restaurants steeped in a 2000-year history and 
culture set the scene. The ambiance seemed divinely contrived to facilitate the purposes of 
our meeting and the very fodder from which the greatest poets are sustained.
Not newcomers to the area, Kay P. and I were assigned to the Army Security Agency Field 
Station in Augsburg, Germany in 1974. We were colleagues in the intelligence community 
with no romantic overtures to our relationship, save an appreciation of poetry and profound 
philosophical discussions. Kay wanted to spend the evening with a poet, so we planned the 
evening to be appropriate for the purpose. 
At the time and place, we quickly found ourselves hopelessly immersed in the philosophical 
foundations of my writings throughout the evening. It was the first time since Vietnam that 
I'd felt worthy as a person. I still recall sipping the red wine and feeling the warmth of the 
large hearth inside the Balkan eatery. I still see the swans gliding by on the Lech flowing by 
our café.

When windowpanes begin to weep with autumn's chilly dew, I'm taken back through seasons passed to one delight held true, A rendezvous that time allowed, a gentle evening spent Amid a time of long discord when days were dreary bent. I feel the stretch upon my lips, the smile returns once more. Again, I smell the Balkan fare prepared on Lech's old shore, The mood is cast in high regard, the wine is tart and dry, As Augsburg ripples in the wake when swans go gliding by. The ancient windows frame our view and day begins to wane As rivulets meander down and streak the dampened panes. The ambiance of ages passed beseeched us not to leave And held us in its warm embrace throughout the ebbing eve. My heart was scarred, without regard and hardened by the war But her esteem unveiled its worth, while nothing had before. She saw the child that once was me, I'd long since cast aside, And bade he climb astride his mount, engage his life and ride. Now, she is but a memory, whose kindness soothed my heart, For we embarked upon our lives on paths ordained to part. Her subtle way escaped my eye till time had made it clear That her esteem had set me free, that night I hold so dear. The poetry that filled my soul remains these many years, Impassioned in my warmest thoughts when autumn first appears, When windowpanes begin to weep, a-glisten with the dew, And I return to seasons passed, to one delight held true.

Details | Introspection Poem | |

SWEET ISLAND GIRL

Early morn
Birds still sleep
Crickets warm
Not a peep
Coffee in hand
Dreams are free
Thinking of you
Thinking of me
Last night's prayer 
Has made it here
Rain soaked skies
Begin to clear
And what I see
On distant shore
Sweet Island girl
I long for more
Hear your heart
We are in tune
I love you so 
I'm coming soon

Contest: Craig's "Lyrics Again"
Date: 9-9-14

Details | Introspection Poem | |

MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE

Today I penned a love letter
I know you'll never see
Secret thoughts and feelings
Bottled up inside of me
Romantic muse on my heart
Words written with the mind
My forbidden introspection
I know you'll never find
For I, myself, am the bottle
I'm not floating on the sea
The message is deep inside
Heartbroken that we can't be
I know this sounds freaky
But every word I say is true
Although we've never met 
My heart is missing you!

Date: 11-7-14

Details | Introspection Poem | |

The Sands of Love

Two statues of stone
On pedestals in the park
One male
One female
White objects of a perfections beauty
Yet they stood erect and alone
When the rain fell
This was their tears
The stared at each other with longing
The trees grew tall
Season by season the flowers bloomed
Two statues standing erect in the prison of life's hold

A poet walked in the park
Glancing at lovers, kisses at dusk
He stared at the statues above his head
He knew, with dread, the loneliness of stone maidens
He waited for the park to become enclosed in the twilight
With toil and sweat he did succeed on his lark
Pushing the statues close rather than apart
As one statue danced and the other one sang
They kissed the sweetness of night and felt the tears of joy
All because a poet
Wished them a lovers embrace
He knew them like they were his children
For here he was as well
A statue
In love

Details | Introspection Poem | |

Another Man's Clothes

I wonder
Who I might become
If I wore another man's clothes
If I thought his thoughts
Dreamed his dreams
Lived his heartache
Felt his insanity
Walked along his razor's edge

Would I
Understand
Empathize
Digest his pain
Rise above his circumstances
Would I realize how easy my own life has been

Perhaps
I could search through his pockets
Look for answers
Remove the tie from his neck that strangles
Rip off the clothes that make the man
Return his sanity
Free him from the labels sewn on yesterday's promises

Or I could walk
A bit longer
Search a bit deeper
Discard my own misconceptions
Feel his peace
Think different thoughts
For he is more and less than me
He has danced and loved in exceptional ways
And as I walk and wear his shoes
I hear the tapping of his soul
I become
Aware
It is not him
Not me
Not anyone
That can save us
From ourselves
Yet we are changed
In inexplicable ways
By wearing
Another man's clothes


I chose this one for your contest because I feel as 
a poet I put myself in other people's clothes all the time.
I like the premise of this contest and I hope this gives you
a glimpse of who I am. 

Richard Lamoureux
Submited December 20 2013
written in early December.

Details | Introspection Poem | |

AS TWELVE MONTHS CLOSE


I count my walks through herbs and shells never knowing how old bones can be fleshed from a heart bound on scrolls of endings, and here I am among rows of an orchard… feet like dust sanded by twelve months of famine and feast ; somehow the maple boughs wither from the laundry of evenings’ regret. Often times, like the gypsy rose, I climb into the lattice of my family tree smelling its tar and citrus that knit arms glossed by twilight’s love, then raked by froths of autumn’s debris. Closing a fence as another year shuts off, I am between silence and scream… eyes groaning with the music of an anonymous breeze sheltering a collected beauty of tragedy and the comedy of drama: trials pinned by veiled nights when kinship endures the flood of weather's hands. It is so, I mean, the certainty of taming the last ride before new seeds from a new year twirl upon unborn fruits… I disrobe the old bones to greet the unknown. .......................... "“In times of test, family is best.” – Burmese Proverb Carol Eastman's Enter The Best of 2014 Contest by nette onclaud 7/14/2014

Details | Introspection Poem | |

Intangible

There was change, a new pulse, cadence, rhythm and tone, where mother had been, the only place I had known Where two maples stretched out, to cradle my dreams, and shelter my life, in the house I called home On a make-shift bed, I was lying awake, Windows cracked open, a wind coming in, .... Intangible nights, in the familiar old room, alone with my thoughts, while sorting out things... There was a strange, jaundice glow, from the porch light, left on, and my pillow felt cold, where the moon used to go The sound of a moth, batting wings against glass, was begging for warmth, while seeking to ask, a place that made sense And a place to fit in My father was sleeping, with his newlywed bride in the same sacred bed, where my mother had died And a new child was dreaming in the soft yellow room where I spent all those nights, ... just me and the moon I was happy for him, and for the child that he gained. I was there at his side, when the changes became.. a part of his life, ...... a part of mine too But, I was lost in the amber, like a moth batting wings Somehow, it's alright, now, where shadows are new. As the sepia light, has changed and renewed I am older, and stronger, much older than then,... Although, still a moth seeking flame... batting my wings, resisting the change, ....again, and again
__________________________________ For Craig Cornish's Contest: "Chopped II" 11/3//14

Details | Introspection Poem | |

Spaces

As my thoughts shrink my mind expands
Growing into the spaces between my words
The words of others
Refreshed within the pauses
Dancing inside possibilities
Filling in the blanks

Words suspended
Within time and space
Connecting the random with the infinite 
Skipping along
Flowing through in whispers

The spaces 
Reflecting eternal promises
Stepping stones along elastic highways
Breaths yet to be exhaled
Here I grasp for inked pleasure

My resting place
along inspiration's highway
My moments of calibration 
Synaptic revelations
Hallways leading to ancient corridors
The place where all artist meet

Each space, appears the same
To those unable to see
They can't feel the symphony
Yet, we who live, within the spaces
Rise together
Give applause
A world expanded from the small
An opening within word walls
Rising to float, upon the breeze
They lift our mind with subtle ease
Come and join me please
I have space 
I have room
Within my spaces
For you








Details | Introspection Poem | |

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 | Introspection Poem | |

Around The Corner

around the corner...just! light brilliant...trees freshly brushed... a breeze meandering through the grass... a baby blue sky, an occasional cloud shaped and reshaped, ...a waterfall roars like a lion...its spray soft as a lamb. around the corner...Just a lovers breath against my neck...a lover's lies, an ego lift...a seat on that pedestal men dream of... a bold kiss...an us in a crowd...a lazy summer day outdoor chairs...an overhead fan, an open door around the corner...Just, rollerblades...a mountain bike, a jaunt in the park, a movie house...a why not...an invigorate, a swim in a freezing cold lake... a restaurant night...an evening walk, a club... dancing...karaoke...being a little wild... so many images paint my mind... bittersweet  ...my thoughts march one by one to want something so bad  to fear it at the same time Just around the corner  I get back my life, just... Around the corner  the loss of a life,  just around the corner... yes I need to do that now, yes I can wait longer yet... responsible for her... consumes the life I knew the actors, the stage, the lights, the set, the techs, a play, my life flow...directing stage. Just around the corner my life waits for me impatiently Just...! Around that same corner, death waits for her patiently Be careful what you wish for... Around the corner...just around the corner two tears wait for me one joyous...one mournful  Around the corner I want to be Around the corner wait for me  not yet, caring for my mother...still she lives, I can wait,  I can wait...
10~13~2014 Sponsor: Francine Roberts Contest Name: Around the Corner ...

Details | Introspection Poem | |

This Poem Is How I Feel

Sometimes on the road of life
	Change becomes the norm
		When you think, “The sky is true”
			The horizon brews a storm
Some storms last but a minute
	Like a ship they sail right by
		Other storms seem to be
			As endless as the sky
Some storms come with a flood
	As life gets washed away
		Other storms shake the ground
			As mountains crumble into clay
Storms come in many sizes
	They come in many shapes
		Storms come in many forms
			Some bless while others rape
As we face the storms of life
	They change who we are
		Sometimes, we’re the clouds
			Other times we’re the stars
Storms have one thing in common
	One day they too shall pass
		 As a car rolls to a stop
			Storms run out of gas
After the storm has passed us by
	A seed sprouts to a flower
		Each petal seems to be
			Exuding strength and power
I have weathered many storms
	Their lines map my face
		In their wake I have found
			Love is my saving grace
I don’t know what this poem means
	I don’t know if I ever will
		All I know is that right now
			This poem is how I feel