Insouciance Poems | Examples

Futile

I accept you for what you are, what you’re not and who you’ll become . I want to know your thoughts so we can ponder collectively. I want to feel the warmth from your embracement giving me comfort and security. I want you to seek refuge and shelter within me. I want my name to loop in your mind just like yours does to mine . I want to mean something to you. Not the remnants you discard when you’re satisfied. the days you choose to ignore. the neglected sun you loathe when you sense the heat yet you crave for it during torrential downpour. Futile is what I am . I cant be the sun on a rainy day neither the moon on a somber night . I want you to yearn for me only then will I unveil my facade of insouciance and portray vulnerability. I’ll wait for you to say the words  because saying it myself will only paint my canvas as the jest but when you speak it sounds ever so pure and cathartic I almost regard it . Till then I’ll observe you closely paying attention to even the smallest of freckles or blemishes hoping that one day you’ll choose me.

Amor Vincit Omnia

Her day is passed in sweet insouciance,
my own debilitated by this pain:
I lack all satisfaction: no disdain
is motivating her. No piercing glance,
no hurtful word, contemptuous, askance,
perturbs my consciousness. Against the grain,
she wounds me by her kindness.  Grace’s stain
contributes to my woeful circumstance.

Some harshness on her part would help it end.
Without hostility, I’ll never mend.
Yet something drives me on, when things get tougher.
Through knowing her, I’ve learned of The Sublime,
Uniqueness in Normality, and I’m
reminded of love’s vigour, and can suffer.

Insouciance a Freed Verse

INSOUCIANCE
interstellar
   interest
&applause
serene
  surreal
prolific
&genteel
from
dark
 &ominous
deep
shadows

 influenced
by disaster
 a recurring theme
of
tsunami
a catastrophe
 enlisting
a monumental series
of tradition
 decimated

 narratives
 from inception
a
 focus
on  release
a fusion
 working together

opportunity to
 conceive
 to present
 a different order
 to
be different
to pauses
&
think  afresh

Inevitability

Inevitability 
David J Walker

This is how I turned 20 
With plenty of time left to 
Opine its wastings awaiting 
The sun to set
	The weekend to come 
Christmas 
	Birthdays 
		Summer vacations that
Race past the calendars edge 

This is how I turned 30
Looking over a shoulder
	To see who is catching up
Who is making up 
	For past mistakes and 
Begging for retakes for the many 
	Wasted opportunities 

This is how I turned 40 
Feeling the changes 
	To my body and
The beliefs scattered over 
The spectrum of 
	What is or
Is not to come

This is how I turned 50
Bracing for mortalities 
	Callings 
Hoping that believing
May facilitate the stalling 
	Of recompense 
On the final tabulation 
To come  and,  oh 
	Tipping is encouraged

This is how I turned 60
In quiet contemplations
	reflections
Concerning the reality of or 
The days  of coruscate refraction
that belong only to me 

Is this how I will turn 70
in the insouciance
	of what will be 
is the outcome inevitably 
predictable

Carmen Et Error

What on earth did I do to deserve this fate ?
From my insouciance I  awoke much too late.

'Tis to Tomi  now in exile on the Black Sea
Augustus in his wisdom has condemned me.

Julia's company and that poem where I erred
Removed me from the leisured life I much  preferred.

And now my sorry assize I needs must thole
With only my wife's tenderness me to console.

This crude and inclement clime I must now call home
Sequestered  so far from my distant beloved Rome.

Surrounded I am by  dull furs and guttural sounds 
Where in my mind life   with  bright togas and verse abounds

If I am not to lose my precious muse
Their language I must learn and use.

Caesar hopes me to have metamorphosed 
From sophisticate to rude yokel indisposed.

Yet my Epistulae ex Ponto  plead for  his mercy to contain
Hopes for my return to Rome, though that all looks  in vain.

If my poetry cannot soften his implacable heart,
Then perhaps others will appreciate my art.

Enchained as I am in this Hades of a living tomb,
My poetry must transform it into my Elysium.

Where Rome was once my sucus et sanguis,
Tomi  must now  serve as my grand  palace

D-List Them Both

Insouciance rhymes with nonchalance
                                Enlist them both ~ lose your balance

No Supper

No Supper

Round as a planet, dark as the galaxy
the interior looked like the last battle in Verdun
the early spring of 1914.
It had been a healthy preparation of carrots, beans
turnips, potatoes and meat.
Scorched earth tactic nothing was salvageable.
There had been warnings but human insouciance
ignored the smell emitting filling rooms 
with the bitterness of a failed supper.
The last question is, can the frying pan be saved?

Operation Anaesthesia

Screaming til my face collapsed, broken arrow’s here called 
     Dear God she’s so beautiful, a cascading insouciance befalls 
             Forensics yeah they’ll differ, no doubt say, it was inhumane
     I don’t give a fig leaf, as the daisy cutter obliterates my pain


By 
David Kavanagh

The Song of a Sixteen-Year Old

I heard her sing in joy and abandon
In a verdant, vivid vale of Kashmir,
An ode to the dawn’n glory of spring.
The sky, its  clouds and color aflame: 
The fragrant, resurgence of life anew!

On your wings my hopes and dreams!
I entreat you, please, do bear with me,
Hold me, help me thro’ life, to dance
With real love’n joy and insouciance!
My heart says the one’ll soon arrive.

Call him.  I’ve waited years for him
With garlands of roses’n lilies, I wove, 
From branches aswing in a graceful waltz
With drops of dew in the morning sun. 
Paint these my hands with henna red.           

Coiffure my hair with shining stars
For the handsome one.  His flute I hear
From miles away.  The breeze brings me
His words of love and enraptures me.
My soul longs for him and his love. 

Call him, my friends. Call him for me!

Ontology

ONTOLOGY

Water drips from the hairs on my arms, hands 
held high to avoid contamination. I can’t wait 
to begin. I guess this Adrenalin rush is what an actor feels  
before he strides on stage. A nurse helps me don 

my gown. I pull on my gloves. Surgeon, king of my domain. 
Minions adjust the mirrored overhead light. I grasp my scalpel.
Fractured images  explain the process to juniors. Jokey. Calm.
I’m floating on  the easy insouciance of experience. My patient’s 

elective surgery’s wasn’t serious. But my satisfied smile morphs into 
emergency paddles. A flat line – cardiac arrest. Attempts to revive 
him fail. I curse, jolted by this unexpected loss. Nothing to warrant
my sense of   guilt. And how might I explain to his devastated family?

The  theatre doors burst open.  His wife, wild-eyed. Shouting. My
husband came to me in the waiting-room. Out of his body. Saying 
you think he’s  dead. Doctor, do something… Before we can hustle her
out, my patient’s  pulse resumes beating. It doesn’t make sense.
Colour rushes back into his face. Nothing makes sense.

Insouciance

Diuretics and laxatives have been purging dysmorphic creatures

As they stage their grim delusion for glamour with anorexic features

They call it passion for fashion and yet walk in emperor’s clothes

Nearly naked and some in lines adorned from cocaine shred noses


Present fake breasts bum implants shrivelled Egos and botoxed faces

Like stick insect role models they struggle to portray any humanoid traces

The melt from the spotlight yet the crowd revels in mere bones and skin

A designer declares that ‘with those costumes you’ll look just as thin’


And so audiences worldwide dream of false beauty and are committed

To believe that without external appearances love won’t be requited

They purchase like sheep to the slaughter and starve for undying looks

And fail to notice the mercurial charade of the industry’s criminal crooks

05th November 2019

None of the Above

Insouciance, Arrogance
Haughtiness, Pride
  I voted for 'None of the Above'
  My Faith in the System's died

The Foreign Bird

The foreign bird
I knew him well trying to blend in
Speaking the language too flawlessly
So, the embarrassment when he
On occasions, got it wrong.
It was not his mother tongue so
His speech was too slow and learned.
Made the language into disharmony
In a country where people speak
The tongue with a certain insouciance.
He, although people are polite, hasn’t
Got many friends they sense, I think,
His tragic loneliness like an echo
Of a country, he left behind that he
Instead of embracing his otherness
Tried to hide it.

It Burns, Brightly

It burns
Brighter, fiercer, nuclear
With effulgent incandescence
But only when untended or 
denied the expected trajectory

For there is beauty in this 

A Glorious Thing indeed
The rarest of things truly
But to wilfully deny it? 

There is beauty in this

The question unanswered
The Troth not Plied
The step not taken
The tone: implicit

There is beauty in this

Why not the unfulfilled
The peak uncrossed? 
No less intrepid
The solemn solitary longing
For the possibilities
Unexplored... 

Yes, there is beauty in this

Untainted by banality
Never familiar enough to let fester the insouciance we know so well
No sordid, covert assignations and all that they entail

Oh there is beauty in this

freedom to plough the fallow furrow
In spite of interdiction the splendour grows each time connection recurs. 
This is the wonder! 

Yes, there is beauty in this 

Can this clock be run down until it's a thing out of time?
Of course, there is the possibility of regret -
The train not caught
The Nettle not grabbed -
But

There is beauty in this

Consensus

Consensus 

Democracy, a hollow word makes me laugh darkly.
Is the USA a democracy? You can vote every 4 years
Among two parties who spring from the same narrow 
The base of the elite and is therefore not Democratic,
 but gives the illusion like the democratic republic
Of Kongo, to be one and go to war against those who
Has another opinion, say, freedom from tyranny
And interference of foreign countries.
Freed om is more important than democracy which
Is a hiding place for thieves and land grabbers.
Israel, knee-deep in Palestinian blood, is a democracy 
That brutalize their own people into thinking they have 
The right to defend themselves, thus behave with 
Callous insouciance towards the opinion of others.

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