Best Aloofness Poems
There’s a very nice ring
To the words, “It is spring!”
When the sun is ablaze in the sky.
Oh, the joy it can bring
Hearing birds tweet and sing
As the hikers and strollers pass by.
By the river I sit
And I have to admit
It’s much nicer than being inside.
I’ll go home in a bit
But before I must split
I’ll absorb all the view can provide.
For in front of my eyes
Folks of varying size
Share my penchant for seeking fresh air,
Though it’s not a surprise
That with masks as disguise
All have New York aloofness to spare.
Categories:
aloofness, spring,
Form:
Rhyme
She passes the place
where I sit some mornings,
her slow, sure gait pads
a gentle elegance across
the grass carrying
just a hint of indifference.
Retired from racing,
she has been adopted out.
She seems contained within
herself, ignoring the yappy terrier
and the playful retriever
that bounds towards her
on her right, not shifting
her gaze as if transfixed
on some vision
she holds in her head.
Nothing of the morning
disturbs her meditations.
I often wonder whether
she is playing out a trauma
that has lodged in her memory
or can't fit the past and present
together into some reconcilable
whole or her aloofness
is just the nature of the breed
and the interpretation
of her manner
has more to do with me.
There is a solitude in her
that I cannot fathom and troubles
me. Sometimes I feel
like bending down
and putting my arms around
her lovely neck but a reticence
holds me back as we both
go our separate ways,
each with our own solitude
held locked within.
Categories:
aloofness, dog, morning, solitude,
Form:
Free verse
Detached from reality
He gazes haughtily
From the cold aloofness
Of his desolate pinnacle...
Far below
Dressed in vivid green and mauve
She patiently waits
Yearning to catch his wandering eye.
His face is stone cold, snow white
And yet he seems to notice me
A fledgling meadow
Needing sustenance to survive...
May passion's fire grow to melt his heart
So I, too, may thrive
And add a touch of colour
To his world of black and white.
----------------------------------------------------
Co-written by Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire
Categories:
aloofness, nature, passion,
Form:
Free verse
Ever daunting,more eccentric is what is left of me
There is no goodness left in me to see.
The roads have become patchy
Quite rough and vague
Because there is no good left for any risks to take.
No happiness,no wonders, no zeal along
There is only tenpramental aloofness which is meant to be wrong
The place has become cold
There is no heart for any feelings to hold
The place once blossomed with dalias and dashes
But there is no love left at which one gazes
No signs for existence
No signs for any persistence.
You can't follow your dreams here
Because there is nothing left but ghostly screams of fear
The place is unhabited,a never opened gift
Which once was meant for the love to lift.
No memories,no softness is left around,
There is this boundless sky and a beligerant ground.
Categories:
aloofness, absence, age, creation, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Detached from reality
He gazes haughtily
From the cold aloofness
Of his desolate pinnacle...
Far below
Dressed in vivid green and mauve
She patiently waits
Yearning to catch his wandering eye.
His face is stone cold, snow white
And yet he seems to notice me
A fledgling meadow
Needing sustenance to survive...
May passion's fire grow to melt his heart
So I, too, may thrive
And add a touch of colour
To his world of black and white.
----------------------------------------------------
Co-written by Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire
© March 2017
Categories:
aloofness, change,
Form:
Free verse
Written: February 3rd, 2024
________________________________________
Existence for him,
should be the shivering,
a fantastic cymbal beat,
beaten with a firm stick,
then, at the time of closing,
all the lights are turned off,
there is no soundtrack at all,
and destiny struck,
vacuous vaudeville
eternity is a halted horn,
and yesterday, a tumbler of spirit,
drunken long ago.
I sit tree-side every night,
anger, grief, and key loss
I wait, hoping someone cares,
I realize nobody will ever come
I sat by the weeping willow,
Its lushness and gloom calm me,
tears fuel my restless dreams
still, my aloofness is illusory
I didn't grasp when it started
I had no friends or affection,
my heart broke and rotted
my echt days are gone,
I'm weary of crying and aching,
smiling, they toss me a chair and cord,
they feign to care for a while
and shut the doors to lie by the bay
their dismay while I live,
how do they pardon my curse?
their love scenes are fake.
Why must I suffer?
why is finding my tears a chore?
have I merited this?
what can I do to delight you?
allow this to conclude,
love me or befriend me
let this misery cease soon,
nights I weep, days I feign,
I bestow joy with my words
why can't I relax and relish?
why do you often depress me?
you don't care as much as others
You're teasing me from above,
I recognize I'll never improve,
I have no love or paradise,
let's hope for the best,
Isolation is a long path to hell,
my life isn't awful, but no one calls,
I may stay as hate sweeps the earth,
stay with my weeping willow.
Categories:
aloofness, analogy, appreciation, cry, life,
Form:
Free verse
her eyes are gray, foreboding
reflecting the wrath of Zeus
yet therein lies the charm of Hera
who silences Olympian thunderbolts
she is sharing a tenebrous introspect
the smile withdrawn, judgmental thought
an ego that must be fed, expense of others
aloofness brings happiness no more
i am lost in the beauty of an honest waltz
women addressing their problems
instead of undressing in front of them
we all suffer in being human
but with an honest waltz such as yours
we begin the inward path
realize the injustice we do others
its ultimate expense, our self
we are wisely told never to judge
yet every day we do
and to some extents we must
who shall i call friend
do i devitrify, or dignify humanity
sometimes i wonder why get honest
people love to be honest about faults
most of the time it is yours
truth can be an elusive beast
sheltered within, Medusa's avoiding mirrors
refusing to acknowledge the peccants within
the ones we tend to ignore
dismiss as peccadilloes
i was not fond of reflection myself
those mornings after, mirror of dipsomania
the abusive beast, a life of full moons
it was worth every battle back
sitting here sober, listening to you
Phoenix 94
Categories:
aloofness, addiction, analogy, blessing, courage,
Form:
Free verse
You may call me harsh or even wicked
But I am more than it because I am crooked.
I may look self indulgent or resentful,
But now I am transformed into someone more powerful.
Fearless! I call me,
Fearless I say
I am not afraid of anything,
No more aloofness,no more hearts to slay.
You may call me forceful and obstinate.
But I am someone more passionate.
Clinging or touchy is not in my performance,
Neither I am superficial or tactless
But I am the grudging pirrahna!
Yes! I am contrary and intractable,
Perversity is my nature and you may call me unpredictable.
I don't like flattery neither do I shallowness.
Being inconsistent and tense only leads you to loneliness!
Fearless! I call me,
Fearless! I say.
I adore spontaneity and daredevils are my prey!
Dynamic and shrwed is my nature.
If you don't like me I will not butcher.
Just speak your heart and live life in grandeur,
Because there are speculative ventures opening their vivacious door.
Categories:
aloofness, absence, anti bullying, bullying,
Form:
Rhyme
"I can't decide," she said,
"Whether you're an aesthete
Or an athlete,
A poet or a reprobate."
"Even when I'm a lout,
I'm an aesthete," he answered,
"I lure, rather than seek."
"So why do you
Need to dress up?"
"Like Ronald Firbank,
I suffer from a need
To give an outward show
Of my significance.
His lifestyle is an uncanny
Parallel
To my own young manhood.
I alienated people
Through a crippling shyness,
Which I disguised
With my violently idiosyncratic
Behaviour, wore cosmetics
And wrote novels
That reflected the luxurious
Lifestyle of a bygone age.
The sensation
Of never quite belonging
Lingered about me always;
That's why
I became an actor.
Through heavy experiences
I have built up
A stoned wall
Resistance
Against arrogance and aloofness.
I am a sophisticated cynic
With a kind heart
And a tendency towards regret."
("The Athlete, the Poet and the Reprobate" is based largely on writings created when I was about 20, and And in its original form, constituted some kind of
unfinished fantastical novel.)
Categories:
aloofness, character, confusion, england, life,
Form:
Free verse
Could spectres conceal inscrutable plot,
while following lives with clandestine eyes:
mocking each movement with grace we have not.
Caste-less company of foolish and wise,
elusive and tireless, always impend:
fleet, ever positioned to criticize.
Noiselessly waiting at each journey's end
watching and judging, without acquittal,
deeds that we're proud of, and some to defend.
Their aloofness lessens us, belittles
as around all they swoop, dread silent crows,
and yet are scattered like children's skittles
when darkness descends with one immense blow,
for night is queen of secrets and shadows.
Categories:
aloofness, allegory, dark, imagery, metaphor,
Form:
Terza Rima
I wanted to hangout,
to be with the cool kids!
There standing together,
leaning against brick walls.
Holding their cigarettes,
rotating the filter between thumb and fore finger.
Putting Export A's up to their mouths for an extended drag.
The smoke seemed to surround them in a cloud of respect.
That was the time before their fingers had become yellowed,
before their teeth had lost that Colgate brightness.
They, in that moment were at the peak of their perfection,
oblivious that sometimes, tomorrow can be a cruel joke.
"What are you looking at?"
I looked down at my suddenly fascinating shoes,
watched my shoes move me in a different direction.
Their laughter stuck to me like a piece of discarded bubblegum.
So I kept walking, until I found a different self.
Determined, I carved out my own itsy bit of coolness.
A certain walk,
a bit of aloofness.
Not trying so hard to be liked.
Me the mysterious stranger,
dark clothes,
an aura of dangerous!
I tried it out for a while,
It somehow seemed to work.
"Lamoureux, you want a cigarette?"
"Na I ain't into that Sh_t!"
I walked away holding my head high,
"whatever dude.."
Somehow saying no added to my rep,
a certain kinda bizarre respect!
Army boots, metal cleats clicking as I sauntered away.
Then I went home
Changed back into familiar clothes,
dressed like myself head to toes.
Just a bit outside of normal I chose.
Said goodbye to my make believe, didn't need it anymore.
Just walked past it and slammed that door!
I had known cool for just a bit, it never truly did fit.
That dark bleeding persona wasn't me,
I needed my inner awkward to be let free,
but without being afraid of what others would see.
Friendly is how I was meant to be,
so I started climbing high up in my own tree
Fully myself, not some fake man of mystery.
Adios cool self, you're ancient History!
Categories:
aloofness, change, cool, fashion, lonely,
Form:
Free verse
~~~ {There's a crowd, there's a crowd, there's a crowd of
loneliness} ~~~
Here I sit surrounded by party people bizz, buzzing gleefully.
But I'm in the pits down in my zone, So I can only see me.
Thus, death to the chit chatty tones and slurred speech.
For their voices become catty echoes far from ears reach.
Got up to walk down beaming streets stepping hip to side
unable to speak.
Gulping squawk sounds, of steaming weeps ebbing, drip and slide
down unstable cheeks.
Can't hold back forsaking eye contact my prides' destroyed
as I try to avoid the grandstand of gaudy faces, gaudy
clothes; of hand to body collision. For lonely teardrops
cloud my vision.
~~{I wish it would rain, I wish it would rain,.....
I would sing it if I could sang}~~~
Head butting and unsorted collides. Zombie strutting in
morbid strides. In search of a safe haven. A wide
divide's what I'm craven, of needed segregation to hide
in heeded dissociation.
Joyful laughter, gleeful merriment and happiness all
about. While my lungs fill with hot winds pressed
against my chest in demand to be let out.
The voice of silence, the quiet stillness of the night.
The pains of yearning for thee with all my might.
Curse the agony of my plight.
~~~{Can I please, can I please put my mind at ease}~~~
Where art thou, Oh shelter... Ye place of refuge? Do
not leave my spirit to wilt and welter. Grant my soul
your peace and grace. Nae of down pouring tears deluge.
In my sorrowful demotion to bear the toil of these
boisterous turmoil secures the coiled and shrouded
aloofness of my crowded loneliness.
~~~ {There's a crowd, there's a crowd, there's a crowd of
loneliness} ~~~
Supreme balance is a hand toss.
Today it is I who bear the cross.
Categories:
aloofness, surreal,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
PREFACE :
an old swing that once seated life now lays abandoned, encompassed within the
confinement of wild,unkept backyard the old man is left with. for a person, who has
been through every flavour of life, using this swing is a respite- a getaway from his
aloofness. And, more than that
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
There's a swing in the backyard, that lies unkept, hidden
that breathes through its cracks, yet remains dust laden
it glides through the wild growths, the over-grown weeds,
fireflies..in a cluster follow it along..as the wooden swing leads
it touches the farthest twig of the tree..that extends to the starry sky
leaping over the patches of green..witnessing the silence cry
at night, the swing comes to life, when it occupies a lonesome soul.
miles and high, it takes him along...and then, the memories unfold!
the crimson memories flare up, come to life.
and he's now amidst his childhood, its little games..and little lies
but soon the mortal cloud of his memories break, and it begins to rain
his watering-nostalgic eyes get so over-drenched ..that it seems hard to bear the
pain
another push, and the swing glides yet again.
and now he(the person) is pushed back to the time..when he was slender, young
and sane.
those perfect strong shoulders, and a grit that cuts through steel
soak him up in pride, as so empowered he feels.
and then, again..the swing ceases to glide..
his memories begin to fade away..like on the sand, a relentless ocean tide.
he catches his breath, as he prepares for one last ride
he thrusts his feet onto the grassy patch, and there he goes again...he watches the
swing taking him, rise.
but this time, he laments the losses he has had, the times that could've been better
the midnight moon penetrates through leaves, and on his swing it seems to scatter
comes to a halt, eventually..his swing. his memories have made him hollow
yet, another night...he'll kill his sleep, riding on the swing..shall rather watch the
fireflies follow.
Categories:
aloofness, depression, loss, nostalgia, sadold,
Form:
I’d like to believe so....
I’d like to believe I’m happy
I’d like to believe I have good friends
And I’d like to believe they're all drifting away.. future tense
Tired of swallowing peoples nonsense
Choking on their lies
Throwing up my anger
All I can do is smile sleep slay
Satisfied to my own surprise
Afraid of getting hurt
Different time same reason
Felt like I had nowhere to go
I ran to it
I embraced it
I missed it?
Yea, my mom teacher and friend was called treason
It’s so different when you’re alone
Going places in your head
smelling your way back to where you bled
It’s outlandish
It’s random
It’s startling
And its different every time
One day your game will begin
Then u can decide if u like it
It’s taking me forever to fill out life’s stupid blank
I can never tell what I really want
But like a character in a movie I believe someone is writing my role
Tears.....come back again some other day
I want to learn from them
can’t do that away from them
For if you wanna watch, you're gonna have to stay
I’d like to believe I took the right turn
3rd of November don’t hate me for you might be the worst day of my life
I’d like to believe I am strong enough
...but I’ll let it pass
Aloofness
He fell for it
They all did
And didn’t see that coming
Some say I’m just confused and I’m going to regret it
Some say loneliness is iffy Hayfa don’t fall for it
I drew smiles on others faces
I’m sorry I can’t care
I’d like to believe it’s because I love him..
Ima take a risk
And if end up happy I would smile
And if not, I will not break.
I couldn’t let anyone else in
I don’t think I even tried
Got attached to my escape
Words.....
Didn’t wanna get hurt
someone I cherish once told me it’s going to be worth it
And here I am
Hating on you for losing me
but I have myself to blame now
Scared of being by myself....
Yet scared of being with you
Categories:
aloofness, confusion, love, me, day,
Form:
I set a small goal today
One that could be accomplished
However when I set out on my journey
The goal became monstrous
I thought isn't this the likelihood
The Universe keeping me in check
Making sure my convictions are something I respect
I set a small goal this morning
With a smile upon my face
Even as the day went on
My the smile was fixed in place
Even as my quest was tested
My joy wavered not
The smile would creep back on my face
Almost frozen in its spot
This smile produced aloofness from sneer
Sharp curves twisting from ear to ear
Facial lines that could not be faked
Not even I could predict this much elation
This morning when I arose to wake
I set a small goal today
The goal was accomplished
Categories:
aloofness, change, conflict, courage, happiness,
Form:
Rhyme