Confess Poems - Poems about Confess

in stark wilderness to our own selves we confess should not seek redress...

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You know her You feel she mingles in your reason in rhythm Not with your possible pain of angina in arrhythmia She is a calm serenity prayer that knows your tear and that needs to run down on your smile lines she is a kitchen cookie baking sheet tracing paper cyan heed never a plotter, never a san Juan never a...

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They will confess, with voices so clear, The secrets they've kept, the lies they've held dear. Their hearts will reveal, the truth they've concealed, And their souls will awaken, from the darkness they've sealed. They will confess, with tears of regret, The pain they've inflicted, the love they've forget. Their minds will recall, the choices they've made, And their conscience will whisper,...

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A little more amour, A little less confess: For those whose hearts they pour Have little to redress. ...

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How do you confess yourself? Over chicken and rice In the light of a moment In laughter and life? Or is it with warning? "Please don't be mad." Trembling lips Narrowed eyes and red hands Or is it with silence? Scribbled words on a bed Leave for the weekend Buzzing phone wasting dead Or is it with defiance? A mock-up of "brave" I will not let myself Destroy me today Or...

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What's my name, who am I, what's my name/ My true name sounds something like Malfaeus/ Ring a bell, are you scared, you know me now/ I am the most feared in the world/ I am more feared than the Devil/ Even the Devil trembles with fear/ A fear like no fear/ Malfaeus, my name sounds something like that/ What am I, why...

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Love’s not cynical; it’s real— Not some gamble, some spin-wheel deal. More like a flame, steady, even at night, Not just some spark to blur your sight. It’s a hand that holds tight when it’s fight or flight. Some people, though… have felt a love that’s twisted and cold, Caught in a web of lies that just won’t grow old. Smooth talk,...

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What was surreal is now the new normal, as we bilocate between form and vast space and although we follow no practice formal, simply ambling through life at an easy pace, we have now encountered the paranormal, garnering wisdom of sages, by God’s grace. Operating from heart instead of the mind, we no longer flounder about like the blind....

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Other poets inspire me to build on what they write Some might call it stealing But I only shed more light… Adding to their poem’s grandeur is my...

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1.) Slept most of my life Forget the stress The best kind of strife is the kind kept repressed Every guy just gotta accept we’re inclined to becoming depressed You’ll never cry Except if you gotta a good reason why Keep your eye dressed If you’re clever You’ll keep your tears dry I’ve wept without the...

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From each node of form emanates divine bliss, being of course benediction of God’s grace, love’s heavenly caress, Divine Mother’s kiss, rapture sublime, holding us in close embrace. Our formless soul plunges into the abyss, wherein of wayward ego remains no trace, leaving pristine presence alone as the flame, now affirmed as claim to fame, in life’s end game....

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I know that i've mentioned in past writes regard mine frenetic digits ...

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Dare me to diagnose my condition?   I'm diagnosed with depression Or rather does depression have me Even the sad rain cries for me Or do I cry because of rain I’m bipolar type one Or so I’ve been diagnosed My depression tells me I’m two Or is my mind a torrent of rain I’m an addict to dopamine Or does scarcity seek fullness I’ll nosh on...

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For the poems I wrote, For the daydreams in which I got lost, For the all time I enjoyed, For the women I shared. For what I've lost and gained, For everyone I don't even meet ! For ALL the past lived For What I cried and smiled. I reaffirm and confess ...

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Chin thrust forward, held in right hand pleasant sweep of hair graces unexceptional forehead Thoughts percolate, bubble lightly, retreat mouth scrunched up into grudging position...

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