Best Introspectionbeautiful Poems
I’m a young boy
A single mother’s son
I’m a young beach beaten by a tsunami
Sent by an undersea earthquake delivering ripples of death
Carrying my mother and hers out to sea
Ravaged sands asking the sunset to reveal the secrets of the sunrise
I’m a father to a wonderful child
A beautiful wife’s husband
I’m the love in each rain drop of a gentle rain
Nurturing arid hearts with the moisture of my words
Watering seeds of the future with hope
The catalyst for the magic of spring
I’m a teacher
A Painter
I’m the strike of a snake
My fang: a pen’s nib full of black venom
Poisoning compressed cellulose pulp;
The anti-venom: beautiful words
Administered through the ink gracing the surface
A student of verse
~ I am a poet ~
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I was tagged by raul to write a poem that ends with
"I am a poet"
now I'm tagging Elaine George
I am the coward, too afraid to fight,
To stand up, and change the world.
My motivation Is pathetic.
I am an 8 year old boy just wanting love,
And changing the world is most loved.
I sit in my chair in the back yard,
Smoking cigars, and thinking,
Thinking that I am smart,
Thinking up ways to hurt people
Passively: with words
Believing its good for them,
Breaking them open, crushing their worldviews,
Is fun to me, it makes me feel powerful,
Too lazy to be more than average,
Masturbating instead of meditating,
Fantasizing about things I do not want,
A dreamer with no focus,
Too ADHD or lazy to complete any art,
Time passing, too afraid of my purpose,
Too afraid of rich people: condescending,
Too cowardly to take the microphone and make myself heard
Using the mask of power: aloof, hiding, mysterious: alone.
Behind the mask, just a small boy: a beautiful shy boy.
Big Crystal eyes that change colors: A heart too large.
Trying so hard to hide this little light behind the bush.
The zombies are attracted to the light!
A boy with a gun: haphazard, dangerous: too much power.
Shoot them in the knee: prevent them from voting or judging!
The boy needs a teacher, a parent: Stuck, confused.
The trees and the moon are my friends, they always love me.
But it doesn’t suffice, it is too soft: aching, needing real love.
God is there: his love is ecstasy, but it’s too intense: in-comprehendible.
Please water it down, and give it to me in the form of a beautiful mate,
Or an audience : Either will suffice.
I just want to do what is right and good but no longer know what is good or evil.
Form:
She's got a perfect smile
her body an hour glass
A beautiful girl
in a beautiful sundress
And perhaps it's just the dress
that gives her that right
the right of perfection
to my imperfect sight
A kind of beauty
she doesn't try to show
a kind of beauty
I will never know
Silly to dream
of what I'll never be
of a dress that will never
look that good on me
But why can't I wear that dress?
That summer came with it a personal promise
3 seasons and 60 pounds at last
I am the beautiful girl
In the beautiful sundress
by: Nicole Hawkins
written for The Sundress contest*
such beautiful eyes
mask so many lies
such beautiful eyes
slice through your emotional ties
such beautiful eyes
darken from life's stormy skies
such beautiful eyes
glisten from too many cries
such beautiful eyes
glaze over when your heart finally dies
such beautiful eyes
such deceptively beautiful eyes
I thought of Hurricane Katrina and how the boats rolled over spilling diesel fuel and
oil from their bilge into our peaceful neighborhood lagoons. Cranes like this one
were covered in oil standing side by side with Pelicans, Seagulls, Mallards and
Muskovies. A sad sight.
Living on the waters of Lake Pontchartrain just across from New Orleans, all birds
are regulars in our backyards, protected by the Home Owners Association. It's
called a beautiful peaceful place to live.
The lovely child depicted in the photo reminds me of all the children's clothes,
shoes, dolls and household belongings floating just below the waters.
Sometimes beautiful photos, no matter how they were derived, reminds us of the
horrors that we know will revisit us again and this photo is one of those sometimes.
The wise man of the city
Said to me,
“Go to the north hill,
and there is a tree,
were the faithful flee
from the sins of the city.
Always will the stars be bright
and the view a beautiful sight,
lonely on a winter night.
Be careful not to bring sin
to the tree of dreams
or a nightmare will tear at the seams.
So flee my child from the city of sins,
To the tree of dreams
on this beautiful night.
so sleep my child
sleep tight
and flee to the tree of dreams."
It comes into view from afar ,
and is really not all that noticeable at first,
It has the unique ability to become
more beautiful and noticeable the closer it gets.
It has no sexual orientation
and really can get along famously with anyone
who so desires.
It is so clairvoyant yet humble and poor it seems,
It posseses nothing of it's own.
It only has and is what it has been given,
Is my very best friend in and for the moment in deed.
Why, look at that ! It is now dressed in the finest array,
It has a bejeweled crown for a head piece
and is loosely belted with a sash of finest linen.
Just listen ..it posseses amazing understanding and empathy ,
Where are my manners,
It doesn't ask for much.
Let me give it what it needs and such.
There! It is so much more beautiful now!
IT seems to know me so very WELL !
OH NO! LORD HELP ME NOW !
" IT " .. is my..TEMPTATION !!
And straight from HELL !