Best Inner Poems
I leave the daily hustle and bustle
and the cacophony of city sound.
And head to where the leaves softly rustle
in the breeze, and no one else is around.
When I'm alone, I experience peace
that raises my soul to a higher plane.
And anxiety's attacks slowly cease,
free from critical critiques and disdain.
Seclusion fuels imagination;
shaping reality within my mind.
And it's a feeling of liberation;
unrestricted by rules of any kind.
Whenever I seek solitude by choice,
I heed the whispers of my inner voice.
I don't want to be your sister
I don't want to be your mother
I don't want to be your wife
nor your mistress or a lover
I want to be the child
you birth on a wombless night
Sucking on your needless thoughts
Playing hopscotch in your mind
Building castles in your hand
take your footseps above the sand
I want to be the child
you birth on a wombless night
Your burnt sugar,Crystallize
Pour it across your sterile smile
till it sparkles in your eyes
Make you play games
grownups wish but never do
'Hide and seek,Catch-you're it
Pillow-fights, and Mr. Who'
I want to be the child
you birth on a wombless night
Make you soar where the winds blow
Reach the kite within your soul
I would camp inside your heart
Let our rhytmic beats impart
I would breathe inside your life
Bring the sun,and end your strife
I want to be the one
I want to be the inner child
which kiss your lips with bliss
and in your joys,reside
Your feathered words arrive tickling my ears
The tip of your nose brushes
The back of my neck
My skin awakens
I have been calling you
Calling you back into my consciousness
My heart
My soul
Speak to me.... let me hear you
Your deep voice
Your warm breath
I feel you on my cheeks
Memories of our times together
Dancing in the raindrops
Naked...laughing
Warm pink drops
Cascading through the canopy of
A million greens above us
Sunlight seeping through
A kaleidoscope throwing rays of light
Shafts and shadows embracing your form
Noir velvet and gold shimmer
An ethereal statue before me
Sitting cross legged on mammoth leaves
We press our palms together
Looking into your eyes
Past now...to before
And back to now again
A forever embrace cradled in unity
Overhead the drip drop melody of
A thousand tears
Falling from the heavens
Audible in form
We have been here before
Surrounded in green majesty
Gazing towards a swaying tribe of ladybugs
Red with black spots
Surrounded in light...glowing
Radiating love
I hover above you spread eagle
Close enough to caress your forehead
With my lips
Leaving a gentle imprint
A message of hope
Fly with me to the clouds
Where we may gallop and play
Frolicking through lush planetary fields
Fly now...ride on my white wings
Up....up ...up
Past turmoil and confusion
Tragedy and loss
Through the lavender veil
To cloudbursts and mist
Mystery and rebirth
Infinite space and distant time surround us
We gasp and giggle
Weightless vibrations inhabit us
Turning towards each other in delight
We cartwheel through the sky
And make snow angels
On the hills of magenta clouds
Unspoken word
Nothing is heard
Thoughts now deferred
Float in my mind
Safe from all harm
Peaceful and calm
Soothing with balm
Time to unwind
7th December 2014
Theme 1 - Remember what peace there may be in silence
Written: January 27, 2024
________________________________________
"Remember, the entrance door to the sanctuary is inside you. Why do you stay in prison when the door is so wide open? Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking".
Oh, a flimsy state over grief, issues, and dualism.
How do I find the inner sanctum of nihilism?
As the guillotine of deceit hangs in plain sight,
How tempting are laziness, ease, and blight?
True divine tandem can occur at a sacred site.
An inner haven as you dwell in glory and light
Yield the path to connecting with the infinite.
In an inner sanctum, calm flows over divine might.
Bewilderment seems sporadic at first glance.
Once you've linked culprits, anguish may trance.
I succumb when the climate renders them unwell.
Cluttered mounds of breadcrumbs lead to a swell.
Ascending free from ominous pits of dread,
Seeking trust across awareness lies ahead.
Sensing the heavenly spark that will soothe,
Illuminating the path leading to the truth.
Stillness enhances your perception of taste.
Find the light; the climate seems to be quaint.
How subtly do things reverse disastrous?
I often fall into that abyss, myself in vastness.
The stain of low scorn darkens in midst of trust.
I stroll into the dismal clay of scarlet excess dust.
The ruthless grasp buried inside suffocates life.
In empathy, I endure the agonizing pains of strife.
Invest oneself in each mission and excursion.
These wonderful events allow for sensations.
Mercury is in and out of phase, as is the moon.
Be mindful of your tongue. The lips are strewn.
Flawed sensory acumen of a stray mind,
uncovers a spiritual path within a gild divined.
The inner sanctum door unlocks at that sight.
While the tulip blossoms with glorious light.
The soul sparkles with astral splendor and sequins.
In a hallowed realm, where rays serve as beacons
In my self-searching dedication toward eternity.
Inward cosmic trends enrich my trust earnestly.
1st place contest winner / POTD
Privileged is the right of ingress, bearing your beloved name,
To chambers of your heart, where burns a sacred flame,
Of inner sanctum divine, in sanctity of a heavenly place,
Strumming beats esoteric, vying ataraxis of ethereal grace.
Reserved for you and I, is a secret temple, tolling solace,
Where love and life embrace, in a sanctuary pure, flawless;
Where the bells echo, beckoning will of empathetic mind,
Affirming proclivity for affinity, aligned with motives kind.
When solitary thoughts linger on a grievous path of life,
When hurdles, detours of past, manifest anguish of strife,
When hurricanes and storms churn in destructive tides,
To shores of peace and tranquility, inner sanctum guides.
When life drives rudderless, perturbed in dubious plight,
Harmony of sapience and prudence transmit inner light,
Spurring verse of wisdom, as missives enlightened chime,
Defying apathy and ignorance, honoring virtues sublime.
Only you and I can soothe, troubled tears of grieved sigh,
Only you and I can fill voids, when vacuously life goes awry,
As dialogue of reason and intellect inner sanctum revives
Empowering thoughts so inspired, where sagacity thrives.
2025 Poetry Marathon Mile 14 Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
Contest Judged: 9/6/2025 12:49:00 PM
( 1st Place )
Written: September 04, 2025
They said the songbird
her wings twisted and torn
should quiet herself...
that the sky held no place
for the fragile or the worn.
Yet she kept a sky tucked inside her - a
place untouched by any hand.
At daylight she let her voice rise
and though her body stayed earthbound,
her song lifted past the edge of flight.
The wind slowed to listen,
branches bent nearer
and the horizon seemed to pause,
stirred by her willfulness .
Each note unlaced an old wound,
each chorus pushed against the walls
of a world that once turned her away.
Her feathers never mended,
yet her dream grew wide enough
to shelter every broken one who followed.
From her we understood:
reaching the sky
was never about wings at all.
It is not fair, it is not just,
That you have things that I don't!
Do I suffer with envy and jealousy,
Coiling like a noose in my chest?
Or do I strive to improve myself?
Or do I accept you as you are,
Or love me for who I am?
Should I detest our differing destinies,
Or must I strive to enhance my stance?
Should I seek your praise or scorn,
Or must I be happy and calm?
I think I am the master of my fate,
Loving myself for who I am...?
But who am I, but a reflection of you,
A mirror of your virtues and flaws?
Admire or abhor?
Accept you, as you are,
Or love myself for who I am?
Wait—what makes you luckier?
When life's a gamble of cards and chance?
Should I grieve your destiny or mine,
Or must I strive to move my groove?
You are the image of my soul,
Reflecting light and dark.
Should I admire your charm or… loathe your faults,
Or must I cherish you as you are?
I should be the master of my fate,
Loving myself for who I am.
Should I seek your praise or scorn,
Or must I be happy and calm?
Your world stretches like a sun-drenched meadow,
While mine feels like a cramped, dimly lit room.
While I grasp a mere crumb,
Scales teetering, balance trembling.
Do I wallow in spite and self-pity?
Do I envy you, my perceived foe?
Blame the hand I'm dealt,
Crave your approval, loathe your scorn?
You have the sun, I have the moon,
This disparity throws me into a state of…
Despair threatening to swallow me whole,
Pulling me into its icy depths.
Envy you as a formidable adversary?
Chase your allure of glory or scandalous shame,
Curse your lot or perhaps my name,
Crave your radiant smile or icy chill frown?
What makes you luckier than me?
Life's a gamble of destiny and decree,
Drown in green-eyed sorrow?
I Should, I SHould, I SHOULD… I Must, I MUst, I MUST…
…Perhaps…
Just Do!
Navigate my inner world,
Chart my own course, set sail,
Embrace my authentic self.
Today, I choose to cherish us both for who we are.
Towards a future yet unwritten.
Locked within the confines of my mind’s dark cell,
Both convict and captor, a self made hell.
Each thought a shackle, every memory a bar,
Confined by my own mind, a prisoner of psychological scars.
In this self-imposed exile, I am utterly alone,
A solitary figure locked in a world of dark, cold stone.
Forsaken by hope, abandoned by light,
I dwell in the shadows, a prisoner of everlasting night.
These lonely walls echo my silent screams,
As I fight with demons, trapped in dreadful dreams.
I reach out for redemption, but find none there,
In this self made prison, my remorseful soul lays bare.
For I am the architect of my own demise,
Sentenced to solitude, beneath storming skies.
Cramped within the confines of my own creation,
Condemned to a life of eternal damnation.
Everyone has an
inner child
My inner child
Is apart of me
When it is quiet
I hear hew speaking
Sometimes she will cry
I do not know why
Why she feels this way
Only she knows why
She could be happy
That is rare for her
I would speak to her
Finding her reason
When she feels so sad
I listen when she chats
Then add my opinion
Sometimes she feels better
Or she feels too sad
Just for a while
Then she feels stronger
I understand her
How she is feeling
She is apart of me
My inner child
Will always speak out
Whether she is sad
Or she is happy
I know her feelings
I chance upon her
in the far reaches of the backyard,
a place I never go. There she trembles.
A tiny tiger, whose newborn eyes blur the world,
secreted in mother-scented-shadows
below blackthorn shrubs.
Faint mews draw me closer.
The power of her vulnerability
fills my veins with a ripple rising,
brimming me with a nectar needed,
like a dry stream bed restored by remedy rains.
How helpless she is with new eyes open.
Her eyes like skylights — clear
and filled with new-wild-blue innocence.
Neglected yet beautiful, I sense in her
the familiar phenomenon of the impulse to pulse.
Her outsized feistiness belying
such a petite package of plea and need
with teeny needle claws and barely a wisp of a hiss
...and I recall when I felt the fear
of being small and voiceless in a choiceless world.
Born a feral kitten, her mother likely lost
to speed-wheels of a car or snap-jaws of coyotes,
whose throats float steaming howls above black
saw-toothed pines to haunt the long night moon
...and I wonder, if she wonders,
if the sweet-milk-purrs with soft belly fur
will ever return to snuggle her.
She’s been cold and alone for far too long.
So I gather her in the hug of my hands
warming her as I draw her in and curl
my chest around her littleness.
A shield formed against her lone-ness.
...and I, a long-ago-child abandoned,
a child whose silent cries heard only by stoic walls,
reclaims a voice that helps me make a choice
not to let Nature decide how birth and fate collide.
So I sit with her, swaddle her, love her.
Nourish her with eye-dropper milk where
hearth embers still glow after the fire,
to heal the orphan and raise the phoenix within.
I ride the vibrant crests
Of a tangerine moon
Glowing across stardust ridges
Where inspiration tickles
My heart with laughing dewdrops
I drift on the edge of a smiling
Emerald forest filled with
Whispery pines and strong oaks
All the trees remind me why
The birds make a home on branches
With their bristling, dancing leaves
I walk through a thriving garden
Alive with scarlet and cobalt
Rare colors in the choiciest purples
Mauves, sunset yellow and lavender
Hastening to create a sweet fantasy
I breathe in the crisp, cool air
Of an autumn night, a summer light
Feeling the freedom of a heart
Gentle and warm, feeling forlorn
For the tender caress of rainfall
Caressing my shoulders lightly
I kiss the silence with hope
For moments poured full of joy
While my heart whispers
Recklessly thrilling in the vitality
Of a dream that fulfills me
I ache for these days of simplicity
When light plays with the shadows
Echoing through the longings
With cries resembling poetry
Lingering on the edge of sanity
I dream, I imagine, I praise
With a prayer of faith
Believing in the God who reigns
High above my thoughts
In a heaven where I will hope
Love continues to abide, eternally
Inner Child Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
September 1, 2021
Adrift in sweet reverie while composing my journal
I sense myself wandering streets in solemn austerity
'Tis such a blunt shift from my usual musings nocturnal
To what do I owe this odd disturbing disparity?
In this vision I plod narrow alleys austere
A familiar dream within I-him I'm now aware
Presently it has become abundantly clear
We are one, he and I, as our souls we bare
In a flash the scene shifts to daybreak vernal and bright
In calm balmy bliss on guitar Bassa nova I-he strum
Dark angry clouds lift, azure clouds gleam bright
from whence have these diverse me phantoms come?
With a will I submit to my encyclopedia self
as inner projection reveals the multitudes I contain
Much more engaging than the one-I volume gathering dust on the shelf
My enigmatic space-time selves shall always remain
When you look at your reflection in a mirror, what do you see?
I see a failure, and that failure is me.
I feel like I’m stuck yet I pace up and down.
My face is etched with a worrying frown.
The problem is I tend to fester and then over-think.
At times It’s so bad I feel like I need a drink.
My stomach’s in knots and my mind in a different place.
There’s just so much that I simply can’t face.
But this analysis paralysis will not be the end of me.
First steps needed – deep breaths and a cup of tea.
Music helps me to relax and to calm.
I know that I have support so I’m safe from any harm.
I’m loved by others which makes me warm inside.
I will keep on going – one day I’ll hold my head up with pride.
i was a frog who wanted to be king
until i realized i couldn't even sing
a songbird shrilled
"you're only a croaker out of tune"
still i stood on my stump with a tortured smile
croaking my heart out all the while
i dreamed of being a stand-up crooner
a swamp-side sinatra maybe a little sooner
the crickets laughed
the herons one-legged stared
every fragile dream i swallowed
sat inside me
broken and unprepared
the wart-filled toad spat from his lily pad
"you’re stretching your skin boy
settle into the scum"
i carried an empty pond inside
where a thousand thorny dreams went to die
the audience left
the moon went home
a cold blue screen spit its light onto the scum
unthinking
no one returned my croak
i died a little every time i tried
my face looked back from the pond
mud-covered
wart-covered
ugly
my reflection looked away
all it could do was cry
today the water settled
the mud claimed the surface
when i looked down
there wasn’t even a frog
left to die