Best Introspectionwords Poems
“You may say that I’m a dreamer”,
With bold presumption in my youth
Beyond school age, but hardly saged
Turned loose, we hoped to use our wits to change the world…
And thought we would…and thought we could…
We declared to fight, what seemed so right
Those days as we leaned so hard against the wind
The plight of man’s predicament on earth, we mused
The breeze just caught our spouted words
And tossed them where it would
We feared our crystal world would splinter
Would shatter without our spin...
"Never knowing who to cling to, when the rain set in”
But that was then…
So naively in such innocence
Thinking we could see a world at peace
Hoping to make our dreams come alive
From thoughts we shaped on winsome days
Imagining, ….if you please
"It doesn't have to be that way!"
And now with logic’s eyes, I do remember
How changeless is a planet
Glimmering in search of answers
And still not wringing answers from the slightest sound
And words we spoke, with vigorous shape
Our hopes expressed, still looks for guidance…
Are uttered yet, by other voices…
“My words like silent raindrops fell,
and echoed in the wells of silence”
Lyrics From John Lennon “Beatles”
Elton John
Jim Croce’
Simon and Garfunkle
For Chris Matt's ---'Contest Favorite Songs and Lyrics'
I see you from a distance
Silently you cry as your heart is crushed by indiscretion
You scream out from within to be free
Loyalty and desire hold you captive
Fear engulfs and strangles you
He loves you or does he?
Are his words enough without the emotions?
You seek comfort and fulfillment only to remain empty
Longing surrounds you like chains
Binding you to him
Passion and love are what you seek
Trust is lost and you rely on instinct
Begging and feeling a loss of dignity you continue on
Your relationship hanging by a thread
I watch, I observe, and I listen
I see you and your reflection; your soul
I watch as you fall to your knees to pray
I listen and hear the words repeating
I conclude that you are me
Copyright © 2009 Lena “Lolita” Townsend
Look deeply into these blue eyes
Please tell me what you see
Do you see the secrets and lies?
Or do you see just me?
Look behind this wide smile
Kindly tell me what you see
do you see the denial?
Or do you see just me?
Listen to the words I say
Tell me what you hear
Do you hear about my good day?
Or do you hear me loud and clear?
Because these eyes are the opening to this soul of mine
This smile that I share is simply my disguise
and These words that are telling you I'm fine
Are nothing more than perfect lies
You just might be
The only one who can see
The real and honest me
And finally set it free
Form:
Somber is the color of the day
Prisms of lamplight reflection
On darkened window glass
The rainbow of color seeping through
Stained glass puzzle pieces
of a pewter lamp of old
While quietly, I sit, and ponder, my pen in hand
Upon cold shoulders, woolen sweater pulled closer
As varied thoughts so far away.
My mind is lost in wakened dream
While trees are tossed about in winter winds
And leaves are dead beneath the snowy mounds
A fire glows, the storm that keeps me bound.
One shard of light, from neighbor's home
Across the hill, a distant mile
The dimness as a room from winter sighs
I write the words of heartfelt lullabies
The day is sadder than the words I've found
So somber is the day that keeps me bound
His love is all around me,
Even though I cannot see
Something that is so very real,
All these things that I feel
Sleeping for so many years,
Suppressed by all my darkest fears
Finally I have been woken,
To all the glorious words that He has spoken
I have been touched by His holy hand,
And now I can understand
So strong in everything that I believe,
I am always ready to receive
He guides me from the heavens up above,
And He has filled me with His love
He has given to me a precious gift,
As I use these words to uplift
Hopefully they will touch your very core,
Realizing He can give you so much more
He offers to you an eternal life,
With no pain, no sorrow, no strife
But you must become a righteous man,
To be seated by His hand
You must rid yourself of hate,
In order to receive this glorious fate
If you let Him into your soul,
Then you can achieve this mighty goal
The end
By Greg P
I wake up in the morning and have to decide which side of the bed I will get out of today – it
doesn’t really matter, because there is no one there to block my exit on either side.
I turn on the TV, not to see what’s on, but just to hear another voice in the kitchen other than
the one’s inside my head reminding me that I am having breakfast alone once again.
I once thought that working from home, through the internet, for myself and by myself,
would be a wonderful thing – but, that was when I used to change out of my pajamas at
some time during the day.
Now the keyboard sits there mocking me in my loneliness. The monitor acts more as a
mirror to remind me I haven’t shaved in weeks than it does to display words of a manuscript
that I should be working on.
How lonely am I? I actually called my mother the other day. Rock bottom.
I watch out my window for the approaching mailman so I can open the door as he is
depositing bills I can no longer pay into the mail slot on my door. He says he likes my
Spiderman pajamas the best.
If I had a reason to do so, I would probably take a shower. But then, I have become
accustomed to my own stench and there is nobody else around to offend, save for the
mailman, who I noticed doesn’t hang around to talk much any more. Could be related, I
suppose.
I don’t even please myself any more. My imagination is not sharp enough to fantasize about
things I haven’t experienced for real in such a long time.
There was a time when I would not answer my phone when an 800 number was displayed on
the handset. Today I do. Talking to someone bemoaning that I am late with another
payment, again, is, at least, talking to someone.
Stop mocking me Qwerty!
I have given names to the inanimate objects in my apartment. At times, they talk back to
me. I think today may be my birthday; the dishwasher was smiling at me. The dirty dishes
inside now have mold on them.
The mailman didn’t come today – perhaps it is Sunday. I wore my Spiderman pajamas for
no good reason.
I didn’t write anything again today. These words are just floating around in my head. I am
pretending you are a stranger reading them to make me feel a little less lonely. You
believing you are that stranger is just further validation that I am, indeed, crazy.
If I am to hear your message
As an echo in my mind
I shall hear the words of love
I will feel the laughter of our memories
And with me I shall carry them
Throughout eternity they will remain
For my heart is filled with you
Your words will be a beacon
Guiding me through the darkness
Bestowing upon me the light to find myself
Giving me the courage to trudge forward
My head held high and my soul protected
I will hear you whisper, “All is not lost”
I will know that life is to be lived
As I search my soul for the path
The road that is to be my destiny
The one that will lead me back to you
Strength, hope, and peace will find me
I will find that your words still live within me
For they are not mere words in my memory
But stepping stones on the path to happiness
Copyright © 2009 Lena “Lolita” Townsend
Hello,
Big Man on the campus with his
team,
Popular to all who know
not the canvas of your dreams.
The screams from the crowd
match the ones inside yourself.
Unseen is your identity
because you hide yourself...
But why? Do not believe you
have to be a certain guy.
Share your words with the world
instead of trying to live a lie.
You're a writer with the spirit of a
tiger,
the brighter remnants of a lion,
but trying to be a fighter with one
face.
Please say Goodbye to all this one
way
The pigskin is going to end for you
someday,
but your pen will truly get you
someplace!
Be brave and bear what only you
know you see.
The powerful passion pending for
properly penned poetry.
The alliteration let's you know it's
me:
The you from seven years coming.
Otherwise who could surmise devices
get your heart pumping.
The literary kind that keeps your
brain stem
thumping
Jumping on your every thought while
you're on the field running.
From:
Your bestfriend drowning before your
eyes
When you were six and already had
a
growing sense of pride...
You wouldn't let them see you cry!
You wouldn't let them see you cry!
You blamed yourself, the guilt you
kept,
And never could answer why
It happened...
Which caused a snapping
You could hardly control
Two years later your mom is caged
and you were eight years old...
Your dad is hardly around
He's more whisper than sound
The only thing that keeps you sane
is the game that you found
That barely helps you ease your
mind
You're hitting people on the line
But despite allowed violence
You are angry all the time!!!...
So, please, write it now.
This is what you write about.
Because I promise somehow
this will help you fight it out.
The words will be your only help
Trust this along with something else:
Writing is Hello to your elation
And Goodbye to your former self.
12/27/2012
I'm a person
I have flesh upon my beating heart
that thinks of wonders then it sparks
of thought of love anew or made
I enjoy to let it stray
I'm a sound
My words are heard, but which are played
The one in mind won't slip away
but the ones I breath when I lay with you
seems to be the most important words to you
When I open up my mouth
The birds and seas fly out
they flutter in and flutter out
I make the waves so timid and large
but most ocean nights have silent stars
Theres a reason I don't win
I can't seem to know where the mirror is
so I could peer into my eyes
and ask myslef: how much I lie
but would rather wander than phase into my wise
I don't know how to begin
My eyes view so many things
and my hands have acted in many ways
but my heart waits to play the days
Of things I built inside this maze
"I'm a person
I'm a sound
When I open up my mouth
There's a reason I don't win
I don't know how to begin"
MGMT Weekend Wars
Forever More
As I remember my past reading the pages before me
Emotions from a time long ago forgotten
Flood back through my veins, through my heart.
Was I always this afraid of the unknown
Of what I was capable of even then
I made my bed, and lay in it now.
To live, to survive, channel my energy
Once upon a time I was someone else
Now I have changed again, adapted.
Change can be good, if you embrace it’s power
To make a difference, if not with actions
Listen to my words dance off the pages.
When my emotions course, so do my thoughts
My thoughts bounce around till it’s time
To etch my words forever more.
written by:Brandee Augustus
It was something I thought I would
Never get over. I mean, think about it, how do you get over the pain from the words of
someone you considered
A friend, if not your best friend.
With it happening twenty-five years ago, it's a wonder why it plagued so
Heavy on my mind and waking thoughts.
It was just just four little words, "You're mom is ugly."
Seeing yourself in your
Precious mother's
Eyes can make you believe that you are this distorted creature who could never be loved or
beautiful; however, I grew to learn that the
Real "ugliness" was in the person that said the words and have learned to listen to a heavenly
whisper that keeps my mind free!
written for the "Why oh Why" contest
sponsored by Constance~A Rambling Poet
originally written June 6, 2009
Remembering times of fear and disbelief...
When all the words spoken spilled with grief...
From a time of feathered heartache and loss...
Never getting through, and treading with a cross...
Holding pain inside as choices were not mine...
Lifting up my spirits alone with music and time...
Standing tall in a valley as the rocks tumble down...
Glimmers of light peak through as I speak with no sound...
A poets words thrown on the floor till the paper grabs it all...
Expressions of life and love as my whisper answers the call...
My pen and mind project images like a silent movie...
But the words scream out loud to tell of love and misery...
Walls and carpeted floors are my playground to write...
Not just of sadness , but a man who found his flight...
Smokelike and hazy, words drift through my dreams.
Like, "Forever," "I love you," and "You're all that I need."
Sweet promises given, sweet promises made.
Sweet memories of love that I'll never trade.
All words...just words, but oh, the power they hold.
They cannot be measured by diamonds or gold.
I'll treasure your words, and all the love that they brought.
They'll linger forever in my dreams and my thoughts.
It's all up to us, which words we retain.
The ones that bring joy, or the ones that bring pain.
I choose to remember the ones that bring smiles,
I've tucked them all deep in my memory's files.
So, on nights when I drift on a warm sleepy cloud
I'll hear them again as they're whispered aloud.
No need for sad memories when so many were great
I'd trade not one moment, no matter the fate.
Form:
I'm all alone with pen in reach
on this solitary beach.
I must create as words command.
I'm peopling this lonely land
and making castles out of sand.
In the place where words won't reach
the lie is told there's one for each.
With solitary pen in hand.
I tried and tried to understand;
to make word castles out of sand.
I am alone, there's none in reach
I'm only left this lonely beach.
The pen slips from my tired hand.
Perhaps one day, I'll understand.
There was a castle, made of sand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
written for John Heck's Contest:BLINK! to reflect the theme of LONELINESS.
Behind my smokey, dopey eyes
That's where inspiration lies
From cloudy mist of verbal rain
I find the words to write refrain
I take a drink and start to think
Sometimes I stand upon the brink
Then I take my pen in hand
And conjour up a madmans plan
My pen moves swift across the page
The wisened words reflect my age
I stop at times to rub my chin
I roll my eyes and then I grin
Again my words begin to flow
I write of things that I don't know
But everytime that two lines rhyme
I know I've found my place in line
Rockman :-)