Introspection Inspiration Poems | Introspection Poems About Inspiration

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Details | Quatrain |

Lonely Dreams

I never knew following dreams could be this lonely,
But up on the hill, looking back, thank God I'm not the old me.
If the tears will fall, let them be;
I believe this is God's plan, follow your dreams.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |


With Youth..... Watch this girl... she has her eyes on a rising dandelion sprouted in high grass, a pensive girl, weaving her way through the fields, looking past weeds to her future, making her way through a maze of thistle solitude, on Saturday afternoons, down hallways and classes on Tuesday, teacher and stranger and parent expectation, she approaches a destination beyond home, clutching the flower to her budding breasts With Age.... Keep your eyes on her... she is residue of the mute child, now entrusted with a knowing mind and well worn shoes, still clutching the flower to her breast... She peers through pages of old photos, scratching through scraps of half-heard conversation, seeking some color and clarity with a dim vision of the girl that held a prickly spine of a spent dandelion with compromise and resignation With Wisdom Unable to mouth a sound, I wish to warn each teacher, each mentor, each censor of the flame... I want to shout: "Watch this girl... who held a weightless flame of windswept dream in her eyes, making her way, mediating between her reality and every longing she ever had... Look back to this girl who has always maintained an unblinking gaze on the white star of dandelion in her hand" _____________________________________________ Submitted to PD's Contest : 101 In A Row #7

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

The Hypocritical Christian

I am the hypocritical Christian.
I say I follow Christ,
But I'm still consumed by my demons.
I go to church on Sunday,
But I refuse to invite someone back.
I want to serve on mission,
But I'm too afraid to act.
They think I read The Bible,
But I just fall asleep in it.
They think I'm positivity and smiles,
But underneath I'm death and addictions.
They think I'm clean and pure,
But I'm broken and mistaken.
I say I'm not worthy of His love,
But Jesus will never let me be forsaken.
I pray long prayers,
But inside they're empty repetition.
It might look as if my faith is strong,
But my core is too easily shaken.
I say the things I'm supposed to say,
But don't follow His actions or obey.
I speak the truth the church wants to hear,
But deep inside on matters I don't know what to believe.
I walk in shame as if I'm not good enough
To be loved by God and saved through Christ,
But there is nothing I could ever do to earn His peace;
It's a free gift.
I accept;
Now forgiven, changed, and released.
Thank You God,
Thank You Jesus,
Thank You Holy Spirit!
In Jesus' Holy Name,
We pray,

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |



Walking alone
Often outside
In deep thought
About things of
Great importance.

I wonder aloud
Thoughts amassed
Priorities now
Solutions not clear
Seeking inspiration.

Time’s fleeting
Which is always
Tied to many
Dynamic actions
Begging resolution.

I stop now—
And look heavenward
Solutions abound
Choices are difficult
I’m staying focused.

Use my intuition
Request divine help
Do Nothing
Take your pick
Nothing’s easy.

My soul’s focus
Trust yourself—
First and foremost
God speaks silently
Do it now!              

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, 
(January 27, 2015) (Accentual Meter)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dramatic Verse |


I never knew I'd be in heaven
In the autumn of my years,
Or that I'd be immerged
In the brilliant art of words,
Or float above operatic notes,
Or view ballet through
My elated tears.

I never thought I'd meet
Inspiration face to face,
Or feel it rise within me
With a poet's surrendering grace.
I just know that I'm contented
As profound love keeps flowing
From my impassioned heart.
This is the gift that artists
Of this world yearn to impart.

8-3-2017  (rev)

What inspires you to write poetry Contest 3rd place
Sponsor Julie Rodeheaver

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2012

Details | ABC |

AlphaBet Constructs 3 2 1

Alphabet Constructs 3 2 1

Annotated Achilles amends fallen frame amputees

Bulimec Barbies browse media monkey banalaties

Cameo clouds cling to beaded breath curios

Dopamine dreams dilenate check cash desires

Echo endorfins eulogize bullet brain excrement

Fecal folly fantasies reveal relevant frivoloties

Gonadial grownups gulp secret scrotal generosities

Helical hemorriods hinder senior stricken hemocraps

Idiotic ideals idioiosyncrate post partem iconoclasts

Jack Jill juxtapositories seek sexestential jouveniers

Kryptic killer kisses ascot arrogant kingdumbs

Liquid lipid loiners fear frontline lucklullibies

Malovent mommies masterbate rich reflective mommocules

Nevertheless nightengales nourich ruby rich noonbeams

Ovulatory occults outsource torrent tofu outrages

Pensive picses picnics lovelorny passions 

Queer quiet quintensials release rancid quotients

Rape ripe residuals nullify nimble reprocussions

Silky seafoam silohouttes fornicate frothy sandlets

Tepid torch trilogies belie beligerent tourniquets

Useless utterences utilize organize orgasmic utopias

Venimous vixens violate visions

White willow wombs softly seed hospice hell winds

XY XX xfactors envision extracurricular xraydoms

Yearning yoyo yesterdays calculate clearcovert yeilds

Zen zealous zions mirror maginfy Zoneotones 

Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |

Seasons and Imaginations

Wind so cold.
Fondles my face.
The tears from heaven.
I wonder if i wish
    to stop them
From numbness,
    to waking,
          then sensing.

The little voice in me says,
Wait, don't go.
Stay a little longer. I plead.
Sing for me today, rain.
With the gliding rhythm on my piano,
                                                  I'll play.
Chilly Wind, caress my bare skin 
     with the pure coldness that you bring.
     like it's my first time in the snow.
     the fire tree never fades in the picture.
The yellow sunkissed leaves, too.
What is it about Summer and Fall
    that I can't forget?
Memories. Sweet imaginations.

The chilly rain. The misty wind.
You are here. 
Freeze me with the sharp coldness you give.
Calm me. Maybe, comfort me.
And, if you leave
Will you visit me when summertime comes?
Before it gets too late
   And again I fold.

Copyright © Wendy Meyer | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quintain (English) |

This Year

Eve of the New Year, eyes strain to see pale depths of yonder anticipating a fresh sky to gleam golden this year. With said goodbyes, I awaken, reborn in wonder of innocence held in sunlit smiles of those I hold dear and hope to value lessons learned ‘neath gracious skies swept clear. Happiness renews in a freckle faced sky of twinkling stars as I slow my pace to laze below her beauty and gaze in awe of infinity, searching for miracles beyond my many scars, and I shall live free to dance and sing, honoring God’s law, humbly glorifying Him, seeing His reflection through each flaw. Standing tall in this new year, I resolve to be more grateful, finding joy in each day and confidence to breathe life genuine. The sky will change above, the earth will spin below, and faithful, I’ll take my place amid with these ideals circling within. This year, I’ll reach for sky that never falls and dream of heaven. Written for Francine Robert's This Year in English Quintain Contest, 1/6/15

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |


Beyond the skills of escorts
and the appeal of other playthings,
smolders the need of the soul
infused to best every man.
Twelve years have taken
the scars out of the memories,
from the last time I was
up and through
just to come down and out
to find every fairy tale
extends it’s hand
to some tragedy.
The odds don’t warrant
the time of practical effort.
Too keen to the liabilities,
always calculating ends.
It is not the demands of over
or having to start something new
rather, better to remain alone
than to be let down again.
But now I see you,
and it makes me pause
so still, with the whisper --
Are you sure?
	Falls into a deafening singularity 
forbidding even a scream, it’s escape.
I sit and can only see
the touch of Heaven
reaching across the Caribbean
to color your face.
As your smile holds the songs
of every dawn’s temptress,
under the soft disposition
of your eyes 
rests a divine spirit’s symmetry, 
smoothing features
while lensing each strand
the perfect frame.
That once moved a favored King
to murder a man, only to bring
the sword into his own house.
Enabled an army to take 
a strong city with just one horse.
And enslaved the envy of Venus
to sharpen leaden arrows,
but fury slipped her hands
and bled her wrists out.
Blood clotted on the cold muck
of her grave, a suffocating cocoon.
Immersed the viewer becomes, 
and timeless the window
of the heart that is God’s craft,
denying the deceiver’s forgery
of any singed carnality.
As if proximity has been given 
within the mist of your perfume,
in just this one picture
of your face.

Copyright © rob carmack | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Reality's Angel

I am Reality’s angel resting on the broad shoulders of discovery the truth feeds darkness and engulfs its target ideas and concepts in turn become meaningless to you there is a creator of all things He is just and patient many still have fallen into the masses of shadow wrapped in their own filthy idols of philosophy I have seen grown men fall like rose petals and weaklings rise into unjust leaders forever the follower of furtive evil dominating only to remain inferior the most important answers lie in the unseen regions where no sense can fully give assurance the mind that so many unreasonably twist and turn grows weary because of the distance it must take and truth be told the distance is not what frustrates it is knowing we are seeking something far that could very possibly not exist, that our minds can twist into theoretical, idealistic nonsense it is knowing all we really think we know is meaningless and yes—even a lie all that has been written thus far rests under my wings under the warmth in which you refuse to feel can you believe in me— though I am completely unseen? how much more difficult would it be to see Him?

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |

A Child's Peace

Tell me of your peace. 
Let it tell your story now
Of trials and tribulations, a tale not of dreams
Weary from a journey of self-discovery
My child, know the comfort in your peace
You feel hope in this familiar place 
As it gently sloughs the pain away 
Tell me of your peace 
In which we all are blessed and free
Search throughout your soul sweet child
Peer not within your cluttered mind 
Look out to rest your tired eyes but do not let them see
Solace found strewn upon daily thoughts is fleeting at it's best
Lasting merely moments, in untouched souls a true peace 
Oh yes! You'll know when you arrive but only you will know 
The world will melt away as a candle left under the blazing sun
Away away, until you feel home again, an unguided familiar scene
An innocence once lost is restored, all sins suddenly forgiven
Soaking this in with relucant ease, 
Breathe it deep with a slow release
Take it in, delight in details you discover
Be calm here child, please have no fear, I am here 
You are safe in this place of yours, no hurt no tears
We share not the same peace, no no
Unique to each of us, yet stranger to none
Trust in more than what you see, know beauty is within reach
We share this unspoken bond of freedom from ourselves
Please young one, listen closer now 
I say, leave it all behind you love, it will only weigh you down
Cleanse yourself of careless words and careful lies 
I know you're weary, let go of all you carry
Don't be afraid, here you are burden free 
Trust in you, blessed one, it's easier than you believe
Sweet child, tell me now if you see
Peace resting deep within 
Waiting for you
For you to let it be

Copyright © Gabrielle Charisse | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

A New How

If you could relive an ancient day, which day, which day, which day would you say?
First kiss, first date 
Or undo a mistake?
Watch your child be birthed again 
Go back and unhurt a wounded friend?
Unsay a word?
Unbreak a heart?
Undrink that first drink?
Unscar that first scar?
Or would you go to another place
Feel your dad's hands
See your mom's face?
Laugh with your sisters
Let little brother win that foot race
Maybe pet that dog just one more time 
Hear grandma recite that old nursery rhyme
Maybe take up for the kid that got picked on
Or hear again for the first time your favorite old song
Or tell your kids you loved them again and again
No matter what they'd just done or how late they had been
But you can't go in reverse to relive any day
What you would have done
Or what you would say
But you can say now what you wouldn't before 
You can be someone new open up a new door
You can make a difference in your here and now
You can't be a new when but can be a new how

Copyright © Kelly Crenshaw | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse |

Prayers Soft, Dim And Whispered

~~ Oh sweet the forest path where I always meet tranquility, Thoughts of peace that mingle with the sky above me; A king has created a forest circle, a ring so calm, An earthly realm, so heavenly and full of divinity and sanctity. I draw out my muse and ponder in awe my life, A princess born my parents tell me, now ageless is my spirit; Roses red stab my fingers and I have bled into the earth, And we the children of the world are free to find a path. With him, the king and with prayers, soft, dim and whispered. _______________________________ February 1, 2015 Verse

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose |

Gypsy Winds

Gypsy winds, wind their way across deserts and plains; whip the tumbleweeds and sands into a frenzy. Nomad scorpions roam dunes alone, burrowing deep, to escape a tempestuous sirocco. In lonely places cacti sentinels stand vigilant day and night; the magic within them, untapped by humans. Only a few know the secrets of desolate places; fewer still, those of their own backyard. Observation, in its purest form, is a rare practice; most people live on the Earth, not in it. Participate in life and it will broaden the mind. Expand your knowledge, with the senses and insight; wisdom is bestowed, as a reward. A bump on a log, never gives, but stagnates. The winds of change, reveal secrets to the open ear; listen carefully, to those gypsy winds.

Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2015

Details | Enclosed Rhyme |

Let Me Write

Let me write….
Of hell and paradise
Of lover’s compromise
Of dreams yet unfulfilled
Of how I love you still
Let me write….

Let me write….
Of longing for the end
Of people who pretend
Of desire to be free
Of changing destiny
Let me write

Let me write
Of passion’s sweetest flow
Of serene afterglow
Of love that's make believe
Of my heart's need to grieve
Let me write

Let me write
My words show I am weak
My words, my chance to “speak”
My words can calm the pain
My words, my sun and rain
Let me write

Let me write
I need to bare my soul
I need to be made whole
I need to freely fly
I need these tears to dry
Let me write

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

Humbling Self

 Removing the sharpness
 of doubts corners
 Rounding off the edges
 of borrowed defeats 
 No room for either
 at this table of peace

 Examining the discards
 with prayer
 clothed in the sackcloth
 of meekness
 the spirit bends knees
 in humbled repentance

 Meekness bids the oil
 of forgiveness
 as humility bows
 to understanding
 while the ashes 
 beg the embers
 from stronger hands

Copyright © Debra Squyres | Year Posted 2015

Details | Acrostic |


Introspection Contest
Sponsor: John Lawless

Inside beliefs of beauty remains sturdy reveries
Never ending facts for my cerebral contemplation
Thoughts from my heart hold reflection with
Rumination and muse calling forth pondering
Observations heed advertence deep within
Soul-searching remembrances crawling deeply
Perspectives of my heart crying out for reflection and 
Examination of self-pretending to green fields leading 
Cores of scrutiny beneath rigid waters streaming with
Tread and consideration being born from meditation
Inspiration lives inside the mind’s eye of adversity
Obligations ring bells of verses with intimate tunes and
Naturally I bring reverence to my wisdom's introspection

Date Written: June 23, 2016

Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Quote Me

"If I made one person smile
                 if only for awhile,
                       at the very least
                                 this day has been worthwhile"

8/22/14 For Quote Contest:
Sponsored By Judy Konos

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2014

Details | Terzanelle |

Paradoxical Premise

Stands on the land of heterodox
Who's the mightiest God of all?
People live and die on their equivocation thoughts

Those who exclaimed about the God who never fall
Inversely proportional to what they always do
Who's the mightiest God of all?

Seekers, believers, heathens and philosophers with their point of view
All still seeks for the truth and uphold one they call peace
Inversely proportional to what they always do

Compiling the ideas piece by piece
Who are we without all these idealism?
All still seeks for the truth and uphold one they call peace

At the end world leads to anarchism 
They failed to adhere what they create
Who are we without all these idealism?

The idea of God and religion become skeptical trait
They failed to adhere what they create
Stands on the land of heterodox
People live and die on their equivocation thoughts

*This poem inspired by the contest that held by Richard Lamoureux, which I failed to join, but somehow I come up with this idea. Thank you for the inspiration :D.

Copyright © Yanny Widjanarko | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

My Hand Danced in Sundust

I used to be an impenetrable fort,
A castle with walls so high
That no one could enter them.
     Sometimes I sat at the windows
     Looking down over people,
     Strange and far away.
          That day you shook the gate,
          Looking for a golden key,
          But I didn't give.
               You brought your spear,
               Your Unicorn of love,
               Your golden hair and singing voice...
          And in that instant the outside of me
          crumbled as if I were Jericho,
          my walls simply fell away.
     You looked deep inside me
     with clarity and innocence,
     as my hand danced in sundust,
and reached for you to save me
with a smile white and warm,
and bring me to the outside.


April 4, 2017
Copyright © Darren White

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

Meet Him Halfway

He wears his frame with dignity.
Moves amongst the throng with confidence,
   with a buoyant outlook
      that defies everything malignant.
He magnifies his letters until
     they are neon bright and shining
   messages for his eyes alone
And augments sound until
   each letter thrills like a breathless
      poem, spoken for his ears alone.

Can he see right through the covert
messages people send through
thick air like fog suffocating?
     (We think he cannot, we think he
     fails, we think he doesn't see the
     labyrinthine manipulations people
     use for information and interaction.)
Can he hear those hidden connotations
of words? 
     (We think he cannot,
     we think he fails, we think he hears 
     only one track of a multitrack tape.)

He rides his chair with poise,
 loves with afflatus, with fire, 
  animus and anima. And leaves behind
   what cannot be carried into the 
    present. But finds in the past a
     strength to fight and avenge, not
      revenge. Find justice for those 
       denied in the past and today. 

He smiles, smile with him, and
meet him halfway, he is new.


March 15, 2017
N/A in contest: Broken Wing
Sponsor: Frank Herrera

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

Dreaming Tree Desires

progression withered aged vines

  after clarity was shaken,

dreaming tree shed its leaves

   ceased to take pity

    on the eternal bloom,

fell through the cracks mid

   concrete wildflowers

standing in dusky shadows

   of betided darkness,

air thick like molasses

 oozing into changed crevices

dreams expired before 

  memories transpired,

childlike innocence died upon

  ventured horizon's fading meadows

      & first relinquished blushing kisses

   as reality's cruel persistence 

      contrived of illogical devices

          decaying flowery resolutions

             disillusioned mixed metaphors;

 deliver me back to a time of naiveté

 whence stardust hung from shaded blossoms

        rendered 'midst moonbeam showers

"The Dreaming Tree Has Died"

- inspired by Dave Matthews Dreaming Tree

Copyright © Paloma P | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

A Poem, The Poet

This pen writes not a story, 
but a life upon a page; its glory. 
Love for the writing; the heart,
thumping, beat after beat, never apart.
Conceived of bones, the ash; this pen, 
to ink bleeding veins, attached. 
A cut, this scrap; of emotions peeled. 
The scaring tissue; with Soul is healed. 
Lightning arcs through nerve endings' link;
Dreams are sparks. Thoughts, the ink.
Not a story, but a life and a pen.
For this is a poet, his poem with no end.

Copyright © Michael Alexander | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

Darkness Inspired

My greatest inspiration comes
                in the darkest of rooms.
My bedroom holds no lamps,
      my windows covered with shades-
Fear not…
for I am content when
the sun descends and the 
twilight rises. 

The beauty of my opacity resides inside
       the meaning of my existence.
I was born at three a.m.-
             in complete murky darkness.

There’s elegance in the dim-
There’s clarity in the loss
of light.
It’s cold,
yet warm when I enter the shadows. 
It’s noisy,
yet quiet in my head as I wallow in
what some may call prison,
           but not me, I call it my fortress.

I find myself in darkness,
for the light bears no witness to
        my shame-
I hold the fear of a fallen angel,
     and yet…
the darkness rises above
to relieve the pain of an ignited kindle.
Shroud me in sheers and shield me
                                     from daybreak-
Lightheartedness shines
when darkness radiates-
Euphoria prevails
when shades of black beam.

         Dusk instead of dawn,
   black instead of white-
              Blind instead of perception,
       Darkness instead of light.

March 18, 2017

Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |

Beliefs Sometimes

Beliefs Sometimes
By Franklin Price

Beliefs sometimes all consuming
Denying every other view
Has been so since antiquity
Is really nothing new

What I believe is only right
What you believe untrue
I'll fight you to the very death
Make you believe it too

Now doesn't that sound foolish
What you believe is you
Only mathematics and sometimes science
Are all that's proven true

Religion is a choice we make
Our Gods or not our own
 And when we die go somewhere else
Or lie in our graves alone

Politics are much the same
Control the way live
How we exist with others
How we take and give

Forcing others to believe
By proving right with might
Does nothing but cause discord
And is asking for a fight

Let others believe in what they will
None at all should force the others
Mankind on Earth should get along
For all of us are brothers

Getting along is thought by many
Practicing is such a fuss
If the majority were practicing
There could be peace on Earth for us

Copyright © Franklin Price | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Eos - Call of the Dawn

On the seventh ray
Of the fourteenth sun
Death hath come twofold
Arose a Titan in this age
Amidst this nimbus looms darkness
Betwixt the ash and sage

Approach cyclical ritual
Dousing wings in feral flames
Latent gravidity does surmise
For upon my resurrection
Eos I shall rise

Copyright © Andreanna Escamilla | Year Posted 2017

Details | Verse |


Sitting at the keybored
symbols mired in my head,
lacking inspiration, filled with exasperation,
I think that I'll just hobble back to bed!

Images of castles and damsels in distress
are not forthcoming, would be quite becoming,
right now I'd take a wrestler in a dress.

A wrestler in a dress! now there's a picture!
something to pique my poor beleaguered soul;
he sports a tutu quite delectable, not at all prim 
and respectable, and by no measure neglectable,

I'm finally on a roll!

Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2009

Details | Fibonacci |

Mnemonic Beats


Their Heart Does beat Syncing Up with the One universal Consciousness that exist in he Resonating throughout the entire universe Considering everything rotating in a circular twist, is how mass exist Contemplating it with a spiritual twist comes when one takes it with a faithful risk Vibrating entirely throughout the universe Consciousness that exist in she Is in becoming All that they Create Shinning there Star

Copyright © Steven Henderson | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |


O Light!

I meander through this maze called world,
seeing darkness everywhere, even in the
bright desert light, my soul ripped by doubt
and fear, and utter loneliness, only saved
by a sudden wave of love, or a flicker of hope.

Copyright © L. J. Carber | Year Posted 2014

Details | Blank verse |


Always fleeting,
you tempt me with beautiful words from nowhere,
convincing me they are my own.
In the corner of my eye, a Muse
& suddenly anything is possible.
You haunt me;
sending visions of dark ink 
flowing from poised finger tips.
Finally, i give in,
relenting under high expectations
& promises of genius.
Reluctantly, i put pen to paper
& find that you've moved on.

Copyright © Julie Forbush | Year Posted 2005