Best Introspections Poems
Quite far we have traversed, in pursuit of goals we chose,
Through troubles and trepidations of seasons in throes;
Sometimes reveling sunshine, sometime in glum of shadows,
Always together~ on barren terrains, or verdant meadows.
In albums of yore, we ruminate now, turning pages of life,
Banishing anguish of feelings-forlorn, fuming in strife;
Reminiscing in moments passionate, of love sublime,
Treasured in memories-beloved, accumulated over time.
Harboring wisdom, inlaid in life’s waning phase, as we age,
In realms of reflections, insights-sapient, now we engage;
Learning from knowledge gained, from choices we made,
Accepting with grace, laments of secrets, as yet unsaid.
Regrets unmitigated, voice remorse of unuttered sigh,
Seeking empathy from goodwill of repentant goodbye;
As life tallies good versus bad, that introspections confide,
Eying a tranquil state of mind, devoid of hate and pride.
It’s time to reflect, it’s time to mend, it’s time to befriend,
As journey of life, beaming content, approaches its end;
Living final days in covenants revered, humbly we penned,
Elevating self, in peace of bliss, to heavens we shall ascend.
P o e t r y fills my heart
with lyrical acrolect:
slowly swaying
my fingers
to outstanding octaves,
through
ecstatic
liberated librettos,
uplifting in a
medley of
melancholic motions.
I n k is bleeding
in nocturnal nouns,
composing charismatic
choruses in
eclectic shades~
of
violet and vermilion,
and quiet quill
is still searching
for a
sentimental serene serenade,
every letter
meticulously moonwalks
between lines
of silver and grey,
engrossing beats
of a heavy heart
in subtle
soulful synonyms.
In a dynamic
world of word weaving,
poet’s depict a
choir of chronicles
from
mellifluous escapades,
merged in
magnetic metaphors
and synchronized similes,
glamorizing pain
in heavenly
harmonious juxtapositions,
whilst singing tales
of oxymorons,
ranting through a
rhythm of rhymes,
forming sonorous sonnets
with sensitive syllables.
But these are
encrypted musings
of my citrine heart.
In realms of a reality
that dreams breathless~
behind a
terrain of tercets
and porcelain prose.
For life as
an abundant artist
is a premature platform,
where e m o t i o n s
are expressed through
introverted introspections
once hidden in
the hush of hours.
The violin seems to float in space, the bow
slipping and sliding over my heart, the glow
of tears falling down to earth, yet it stirs
the silent wings of butterflies, fluttering as if
pulling an endless thread from my silhouette.
A dark gypsy soul with the moon shines, arms
push and pull each note, like a sullen lullaby.
The knockabout on ebony waves, shoulders the weight
with a mystery of long raven hair, ruthless sadness.
Vibrations of vibrancy, beautifully rumble in the ear,
creating introspections of smoke and mirrors. The years
ebb and flow, the fear long gone, steel tears flow.
The song is sung, not with rhetoric, but rhapsody.
The violin
of old
seems
to float
in space
the bow…
Contemplating on my brevity,
I find sincerity in my integrity-
I’m a visionary with a muse so deep
I write with intensity.
Reflections and introspections
bring alleviation and deliberation-
My sedative is to be meditative,
as I get lost in thought and
concentration.
Introversion and deep illusion
bring me no concrete conclusion-
When I objectify and rectify
all I see is this delusion.
Inside I hide,
and outside I confide-
But when caught in
between realities,
I truly coincide.
Self-examination on my creation,
brings thoughts of intimidation-
But the bigger picture’s explanation,
gives light to this strange fascination.
I think I may try to live
another day of grace,
but you can tell I’m weak
from the lines upon my face.
I wonder if my depth is
deep enough to survive,
but I’m shallow and hallow,
for I cannot stay alive.
May 14, 2017
As I explore the outer space,
And make connections, introspections
Nonplussed, but given to the chase-
The Fate of Fools’ directions!
Too much I’ve asked! And too late, perhaps
When I am taken to the task
How long I wrought, how strong I fought,
To never see the Truth to pass...
*Space & Time Contest Entry*
Please speak to me of love in gentle tone,
That I may recall her voice in your inflections
Never were her words shrill or monotone,
But sweet like honey-frosted confections,
She spoke to me with love and sincerity
In phrases coming from her introspections.
She and I conversed in contented solidarity
I so miss those times of sharing intentions,
When together we searched for our verity.
And, sometimes, we cast aside conventions
Speaking in intimate terms only we knew
We were our sole-partnered redemptions.
Once again I yearn to hear her words so true.
SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written July 5, 2022
Submitted to "The Meaning of Love" poetry contest
Sponsored by Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Acknowledgement of God is step number one.
Knowing oneself, strength and weakness won.
Inspection by the soul of thoughts concealed,
A truthful inward view at last, revealed.
Acceptance is a skill that improves one’s life.
Whether for yourself or someone with strife,
Willingly, outwardly, roaming through time.
Feeling all the while peaceful and sublime.
Self-acceptance starts with introspections.
Frequent inward looks bring revelations.
The, man that understands true desires
Makes decisions well, as life transpires.
When willpower rules, happiness happens.
Faces smile and become joy with actions.
Thoughts of a man with fears unfettered.
Seeking perfection transforms, self-bettered.
Social acceptance travels many steep slopes.
There are external factors, members’ scope.
Etiquette, bylaws, molds expectations.
Approval depends on regulations.
Motorcycle gangs roam from land to land.
Live rough and tough while together they stand.
A code of acceptance in minds recessed.
Expectations implied are not confessed.
Boy Scouts acceptance on the other hand,
Living the oath and laws of the land.
Behavior rules have been tested and tried.
Conditional and expressed, not implied.
Accepting losses of people and things.
Sounds in the heart with a familiar ring –
Sudden losses bring emotional storms.
Death, divorce, or broken hearts cause reforms.
Blind acceptance belongs on a dark shelf.
For man must always be true to himself.
Study, evaluate then, accept truths.
Fully accepting humble not aloof!
Topic: Acceptance
© Name withheld for contest
April 14, 2010
Serenity in the island,
with varied inner introspections
so vivid and colorful,
that relationship occurs.
Smiles greet my day
as I wake up in the morning.
with handshakes during the mass,
a gesture of love;
with depth in human bonding.
Words accompany my day
as I leave the place
with wisdom and enthusiasm to say,
"See you later,"
a beautiful parting, a wish of ethical people.
I can mirror what's inside
the truth and one's sentiment
It's an act of reflection,
a landscape of imagination
that focuses on human dimension.
Birth of a pearl on a stelliferous night.
Amidst, shimmering iridescence, crepuscular morphing light.
Beautiful fireflies dancing to the tune of “aye!”
Dressed in white, gracefully gleaming bright.
Queen of gems, quietly arrives,
with ultimate sophistication to rule the sky.
Showering amplifying mystical powers.
Silver rainbow of your purifying light,
Steeps into me and make me glow.
Bestowing equanimity and self-control.
Ripples of your vibes, ignite my soul.
You and I entwined with a beautiful tie.
Silent converse and profound insight.
You control the rhythm of my tides.
Healer of my wreak havoc emotions.
Guiding my intuitions and introspections.
O! Ruler of the Oceans!
Accept my boundless devotion.
06/03/2019
Liquid Luna Lace Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Much like the ocean,
peaceful and serene,
transitioning tides,
turn calm to chaotic.
Influential pull,
consequently shifts,
roaring with rage,
colliding waves crash.
In search of a source,
to brighten my path,
I offer reflection,
should light ever strike.
All the while, I dance,
mad in my mystery,
banishing secrets,
deep in my depths.
Gown of the moonlight,
draped on the surface,
sways with the ocean,
a sky and sea waltz.
My thoughts are the waves,
they come and they go,
capricious cadence,
of mind's melody.
I fear a disruption,
in this ocean moon rhythm,
should my thoughts cut in,
or sing out of tune.
Yet the glowing reflection,
of the flowing moon gown,
moves with the waves,
intact and unchanged.
I search for what's hidden,
in this glistening ocean,
shameful of greed,
unfulfilled, I remain.
I hunger for truth,
I crave to know meaning,
deeper than the ocean,
brighter than the moon.
Angered introspections,
it should be enough,
frustration thunders,
storm rumbles within.
Will I know satisfaction?
on the cusp of a wind storm,
then a wave washes over,
to quiet my questions.
I realize the ocean,
vast canvas of blue,
radiates an illusion,
by source of the day.
The night's shining sea,
painted with moonlight,
Is work of reflection,
from an artist beyond.
I'm humbled once more,
a mere mortal in awe,
of the ocean and sky,
and their cosmic connection.
For the master of night,
mirrored by the moon,
igniting the ocean,
is the faraway Sun.
I sit with you among ponds, gardens, forests
Oneness octaves omit opulence
Captivated from beauty within cores essence
No longer pondering life's purpose
Allowing weeping willows prominence
Living now! Vibrancy in awareness synchronicity
ruby red realizations; pebbles in water give clarity
Cognizant creative co-created creators
Living loves luminance…
I sit with you; inside the space seeing eyes filled to grace
Rejoice this moment bestowing forth its infinite inspirations
Nubulas being pictures revealing inner introspections
Confident congratulations cherished
Every inhalation flowing to exhalation
Self love exemplified; Living Love Liaisons
Lovers dance complete as thy eyes see; inner mirror of self appreciation
Parents of Co-creation playing in the garden…
The holidays have been a time of looking at my life.
It makes me wonder how I'm doing as a mother and a wife.
I hope I am successful in this most important task.
I know that I have tried my best...... is this all that I can ask?
It makes me think about the times I could have given more.
I have to also focus on our life beyond the door.
I see room for some improvement in this life I call my own.
It's lifes little introspections that helps to see if I have grown.
With each new year that passes I can say life has improved.
It helps when I make sure that negativity is removed
-light house-
...lost in the deep dark dangerous fore forest of mental foresight
the pitch blindfold blocking my light of sight
and pattering feet feebly giving way for a stumble
my heavy body spatters mad, my face smudges, i crumble
i take a leap forward, a step that would be of faith
i realize i forgot to read between the slim pith...
there is much a few step in the worlds treaded miles
very few leaps of faith that that made light and smiles
still lost, very hard to find my way i try
midsts introspections and fear of re-occurrence of history,
going forwards paints backwards the presumed future
this time my own self is in destruction; my nature...
i build castles in that darkness of the night
i war, i make soldiers win battle, i too fight
in that darkness i lead a family that follows on
dreams that i cant tell when they were born
...and i follow my ambitious dream that might...
just maybe, might lead me to that search light
I,I,I,I, don't know what got me here.
My soul is impacted with heartbreaking despair, and logic is dim and unclear.
Should I have?
Should I have stopped him from walking out the door?
Should I have expressed my feelings more to the core?
Was I?
Was I too intrusive or hollow during his moments of introspections?
Was I beastly in measuring his fervor revelations?
Now I.
Now, I sit and stew and contemplate if we ever were compatible.
Now, I think that maybe I grazed his tender brow on how a relationship should work, and I think; is my demeanor implacable?
Was I?
Was I on a collision course to destroy the nature of such an acquiescent and loving man?
Was I less attentive during our talks and more distrait and that, maybe that's how it all began?
Many days befuddlement has siege my mind rendering me illogical and blind.
Many days I find myself standing in front of the mirror, bare of any wanting to make anew.
Many times I tell myself that it was my phlegmatic spirit that causes our love affair to fall through.
Many days my brooding has no resolution, potion, or notion.
Maybe.
Maybe the situation is not as complex.
Maybe he will call or maybe he will text.
Maybe my state of mind is too devoured, and I care less what happens next.
August 6, 2021
Some friends I know are loathe to share
Affections for these word inflections
Try as I may they seem to scare
At thoughts of further introspections
If they should pry their headphones high
Peruse the verse their tune relies
They just might feel the big reveal
The rhythmic zeal and fresh appeal
Within the rants they wryly chant
Just maybe then all won’t be lost
They may just pick up Robert Frost