Best Analyse Poems


Premium Member The Final Frontier

Death, the final frontier?

A nest is round.

Our nest the Earth is round like all the stars and planets.

All things are orbital, even time and space.

Let us analyse life and death like night and day or water and vapour!

But, this time see death as the day and life as the night.

So in our day, we see all things clearly,

and in our night we are blindly stumbling, or lost in a dream.

The water we can see as life this time,

running always downhill subject to the gravitational pull.

The vapour is our spirit free of all Earthly bonds.

But, this too is a cycle continually reverting back and forth.

As the vapour raises towards the sky it is collected by the clouds.

Thus returning to Earth again as rainwater.

One major point to always remember in "life" also is that

you cannot create or destroy energy!

It only transforms.
© White Wolf  Create an image from this poem.

Doubts

Dear members of Poetry Soup, here I present my most awesome poem to date. 
It is best appreciated while listening to my mate Andy's recital. 
So please open-
http://www.andyevansfiction.com/interviews/andy-reads-a-poem-called.html 
and read along.
Here goes:

DOUBTS

When the sanctuary
Of sunlight sinks
And dark shadows
Lay across your thoughts
Spiteful talons
Scrape against your reason
Their dragging
Resonating
In your mind



Out beyond your vision
In the darkness of the hour
Your doubts stir
Shuffling
Muttering
Foul damning words
That pierce you
Slicing through your certainty
Severing the flow
Of your integrity
Chill words
Spoken so close 
They breeze past your ear
And settle like ice
On your dignity
Threatening
Menacing
Sounds of movement so near
That doubts brush
Your confidence



In the gloom
These doubts
Analyse
Scrutinise
Your every mistake
Real and imagined
Emphasised
Magnified
Demonised
Your honest intentions
Mercilessly proven
Futile
Trivial
Infantile
Your courage
And Morale
Shattered
Scattered
Lost in the darkness
Surrounded by doubts



Fearful
Deceitful
Doubts twist
Blur reality
Ripping
Façade
From hidden self
Clawing
Screaming
Igniting fear
Pupils dilating
Stupefied
Skinned
Heart racing
Blood
Gore
Torn from your chest
Undesired self
Splayed
Exposed




When the sanctuary
Of sunlight rises
And dark shadows
Are chased from your thoughts
Hopeful hands
Massage your reason
Their comforting
Relaxing
Your mind

Yesterday

Yesterday we were alive, young, and free 
Laughing and dancing like the wind and sea
Yesterday we were young, foolish and ignorant 
Not caring slightly for what was important 

Somehow we thought our friendship was the blast 
So we never realized that we were known as outcasts 
We were so involved in our own little world 
That we did not realize our friendship was like fools gold 
It was golden, wonderful, and surreal 
It was anything but the real deal

We laughed, gossip and talked 
Hand in hand through the hallway we would walk 
All of our little secrets we would share 
All of our insecurities and all our fears 

Today I  am sad, alone and betrayed 
To learn that our friendship was nothing but a facade 
Today I am older, wiser and stronger 
But I wish our friendship would last just a little bit longer 

I often like to sit down and analyse what we have become 
And it hurts my heart to see that we are no longer are one
Sadly I must accept all of our times together are done

But no worry tomorrow is another day
Maybe someone else will decide to come my way 
But until then I will relish our memories of yesterday


Premium Member Facebook - An Album of Tarnished Reflections

Every image and text we post on Facebook
is selected and air-brushed,
to present our lives as we would like it to be,
sharing images for self congratulation and gloating.

We are both the viewer and the viewed, 
the audience and the actor
mutually disclosing tarnished, 
filtered and selected images and impressions
to create a make-believe social world.

Now we learn that our private data 
and that of our friends
has been leaked to those that
can analyse and create a profile
or our weaknesses and vulnerabilities.

Advertisements and fake news stories
are fed to our in-boxes 
to change the way we think.

A chest-full of tarnished reflections
left on our 'Welcome' mats.

Facebook faces front and rear, 
are all tarnished reflections.

Premium Member -Being Alone

Sometimes I just like being alone
Away from other humans
To be on my own

Nobody there to analyse 
No-one to judge 
Or criticise

Only me to please
No catering to another
Trying to appease 

Nobody to entertain
No awkward or negative mood 
Nothing to explain 

No-one making the atmosphere tense
Being irritated or annoyed
No false pretence

Sometimes I just like being alone……
© Deb M  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Flowing Gently

All that we need to know will be revealed
Let us not employ thought to analyse 
Clear light of truth is by maya concealed
Aspect allowing is graced by surprise 

Once we cease playing game of illusions
No fetters remain that bind and confine
Egoless presence exits delusion
As head and heart with throb of love align

Outer world fades as we dwell in silence 
Blissful world within is so beauteous
We flow gently in childlike innocence 
Rapture enlivenment continuous

Earth life destiny unfolds as ordained
Divine benedictions softly ingrained

02-April-2021

Entry for: your best sonnet this year so far
Sponsor: John Hamilton


Premium Member Why Does A Poet Write?

“The only thing that can save the world is the reclaiming of the awareness of the world. That’s what poetry does.” — Allen Ginsberg”


What drives them to put pen to paper?
To be famous is that their caper?

The world to change?
Tell a story so strange?

Is it a more personal flaw?
Drawn the short straw?

Life made them feel dismay?
They have to live this way....

Prone to despair
Pull out their hair?

Caught in a landslide
Can't escape the ride...

They can analyse
Maybe even surprise

Put words to their feelings
They may even do healings

A pen you did choose
Your ideas more than clues

Why does a poet write
Because they can..... alright

Iam a Poet

I'm not highly qualified
I'm not earning as much as my fellow beings are earning
I'm no sports person
I'm no celebrity
Still I feel happy ,I have passion to write
I have passion to describe
I will describe
I will analyse
I will present to the world
My thoughts are unique
I'm a poet
I can't earn billions
I can write millions of words
What do I get 
I get satisfaction in my heart 
I'm a poet
I need pen and paper 
I forget the world 
I forget the competition 
I write ,I explain
I'm a poet
I might be poor in terms of currency
But I'm rich in my thoughts and invent new quotes
I'm a poet 
I can influence many with my writings
I'm a poet.

The World Is Bleeding!


The Sun shines bright on our planet in despair
Wrapped in rags called turmoil, worn beyond repair 

A battle tearing the soul from great Mother Earth
It’s inhabitants at odds to prove status and worth

Hemorrhage must stop and wounds to heal
Scabbing over again then scratched to reveal

That mankind is not worthy to manage such place
Only capable of abusing and leaving much trace

Of a thoughtless generation lining pockets with greed
A legacy for those younger to analyse and heed

A new set of rules that must not repeat 
Past history written with a story of defeat

The World is still bleeding and how will it stop?

Love Is

"May we see all love mirrored back to us. May it reflect and refract and expand - forever." ~ Michelle Morris

Love is...
By Michelle Morris
24/09/2023

We don't need to explain our love
We only need to show it
We don't need to analyse it
We only need to know it

For...

Love is in our marrow
Love is in our bones
Love is in our hearts 
Love is in our souls

Love is everywhere
Love is everything
Love is our entire Universe
Love is our blessed being 

Love is truly you
Love is fully me
Love is love is perfection
Love is our eternity 

© Michelle Morris, 2023

Suicide Angel

they were all there 
the signs
neon
pastel
greyscale
signs
I guess they saw them at the time

but maybe she's just attention-seeking
right

they even saw her self-harm wounds
her emotional pain
externalised

and yet none of them
even
realised
or maybe they tried
but it wasn't enough

so she took her own life
and now they analyse
everything
even her Facebook status updates
analyse
everything
every detail
every sign

they see the signs
they panic now

but she's already dead
and the next one
is forming plans
in her head
but nobody is even noticing 
yet

Premium Member Ignorance Is Bliss

… where ignorance is bliss,  / ‘Tis folly to be wise.

Informed about the choices—
the mainstay o’ adulthood—
we often smother voices;
in good stead they have stood.
Grapple with, analyse
a destination grim:
a web of intrigue; lies
which we quote verbatim.
Some opportunities
present itself to us
with practicalities.
We often wish to cuss,
but many chances missed
in pursuit of prize.
Where ignorance is bliss,
‘tis folly to be wise.

The quote is from the final stanza of Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College, by Thomas Gray (1716–71). 
This is an example of gnomic poetry.

Premium Member A Grand Slam

An applaud in negative
In writing or voluble,
Appreciate one must
To further spring up,
A poetic grand slam !

Sarcastic comments
Take digs at you,
Aggressive remarks
The missiles,
To drop you dead !

Throwing a frisbee
Beyond reproach,
Reprimand,
Rebellion,
Give or do battle !

A censure, 
Although Depreciates ,
Distresses and Disheartens,
Repel depression,
Essentiates introspection !

Be factualistic,
Don't divagate,
Be dianoetic,
Argue and analyse,
Put on a thinking cap !




Written on 5/5/14
Contest- slamming battle - 1
Sponsor- Verlena S. Walker


Now for contest- slamming season
Sponsor- PD A
Entered contest on 26/5/14


Now for contest- slam the slam
Sponsor- SKAT A
On 30/5/14

Mirror and Me

Historically
What did I see when I look in the mirror at me?
Reminding me of what I didn’t want to see
Critical and self loathing –frustration of me
Never loving anything that I saw within me
Or attempting to analyse how I could change the view I see
I focused on the failures, the attempts, fear
Hating the attention, eyes upon me
Even those that reflected from me to me
This was the relationship between the mirror and me

Now
What do I see when I look in the mirror at me?
A little more acceptance of ‘the me’ I see
The mirror more practical than it’s ever been
Application of make up and the hair to boot
Brushing my teeth while humming to a tune
Knowing that I feel more comfortable with me
Eyes – my eyes are still judging me
But I value more the mirror and me

Future 
What will I see when I look in the mirror at me?
A very important person in my life once asked
What do I see when I look in the mirror at me?
My answer on reflection made me see
How badly I had valued ME
Since that day this is what I see when I look in the mirror at me…
I see the man of my life standing next to me
I love myself and how the mirror reflects my happiness back at me
I look at my eyes and the reflection of how I feel
Brushing my teeth, humming a tune a dance move or two
I know who I am, what I feel and where I want to go
I love the man standing beside me and his eyes gazing upon me

The mirror and me finally agree……………

Premium Member 'silence' - Just You and Your Thoughts

In life you get moments 
When you are surrounded by silence
This allows you to look deep within 

An opportunity to listen to your core

That at times can be frightening 
When you are surrounded by only your thoughts
Sometimes that is a necessity 
Embrace those moments 
Like it’s a breath of fresh air 
Do not squirm away from it
 
It is okay to analyse your reasoning at times

If you don't
You might end up in a space 
Where you don’t know yourself 
Or how you got to where you are at

Reflect and then act 
Or just enjoy your thoughts 
Don’t fear the silence


©090620151446

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