Long Diffident Poems
Long Diffident Poems. Below are the most popular long Diffident by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Diffident poems by poem length and keyword.
Have I been procrastinating a lot by staring at the slowest clock,
not getting up early and be in the happy mood to write?
Poetic words have been flying away from my sight! Hark!
I have put my pen down and watched a floating kite!
I have entered many contests since September and won none,
frustration has set in: I have become too lazy to compose a single line;
even the greatest poet loses against another who's younger!
Is age a relevant factor in winning? Should it be true, I would get angrier!
Sponsor, sponsor don't be deceived by fresh talent,
it's an unsweetened apple that needs time to get ripe;
mine is as old as this entrapped imagination that wants to escape...
if I convinced you that I'm much better: you wouldn't be diffident!
Competition is a fierce battle everyone likes to win in their lifetime:
a trophy is the reward for having worked their way to the top and shine;
often recognition brings fortunes...whoever said, " The pen is not might? "
I want fame more than riches: that's why I'm not fading from the spotlight!
He appeared to be a mere, callow boy,
Beautiful, strange, exotic, enchanting,
But he was, he said, a king, and he'd traveled very far
Over time, and land, and sea in search of me.
His glance was diffident and shy,
But with a trace of ancient sadness
That belied the ageless wisdom in his melancholy eyes.
That magic day he found me
My soul was adrift, feeling lost and alone,
And closed to love I'd never known.
Arm in arm we walked and talked
Of pundits, and poets, and beggars, and kings,
And lots of other worldly things.
Then he turned to me and gently said, this king,
"Here's the gift I came to bring:
The truest thing you'll ever learn,
Allow yourself to love, and you'll be loved in return."
I listened to what he had to say,
Then I unlocked my heart that day
And felt his prophecy come true
As love rushed in and brought me you.
In the 80’s I first learned of Assertive Training
My husband thought it would do me some good.
I laughed myself silly
As the teacher explained things.
If someone tries to put you down, you say this.
If a person tries to hurt you, you do that.
Tears were coming out of my eyes now;
I was shaking with stupid laughter.
Clearly uncomfortable.
This room was full of diffident, hesitant, deferring humans.
When they came up front to act out a scenario given by teacher,
You could barely hear them.
Whispery voices
Fervent glances.
Shy, quiet, skittish.
Win-win was our goal.
We were to say and do what we needed
No one received any praise, lots of criticism though.
Teacher clearly did not understand win-win.
I do not work well under these conditions.
We took turns acting out scenarios given by the teacher.
“You’re being aggressive!” the teacher would say to me sternly.
“You are both supposed to win,” she would caution me.
Being a warrior woman, I had trouble disengaging
My foot from her neck.
Before I left.
What I value most in my life is the bliss of being born
into a happy family with caring mom and dad.
It set the foundation for me to grow wholesome,
with basic values and a high moral code.
I am a happy wife and mother, the queen of my home,
a teacher from hilt to heel and I proudly wear that title.
Endowed with commitment, I try to do things as best as I can,
and I believe, staying in and out beautiful is vital.
As I can’t hide my sensitivity, people take me for a weakling
Sometimes, I can’t put enough, as fear of losing
takes a defeatist hold over me to the point of dejection,
and between action and inaction, I keep oscillating.
It gets in my way of success that never can I be a champion.
As a poet, sometimes I feel my pen runs out of ink.
It frustrates me that often I contemplate on quitting the scene.
Though not diffident, at times, into self- doubt I sink.
With all blemishes, I feel, I am yet to see the best in life.
Though I trip and fall, hope to stand up the next moment.
I keep bettering myself that I am a work in progress.
Before my life ends, I am hopeful of atonement.
As my days are waning, what I pray is to have a peaceful end,
with a feeling of contentment that I have left the world
as a blessing, brightening myself and many lives around,
leaving sweet memories behind that my dear ones love to hold.
To you my villanelle I plight my troth
A poem both dignified and full of play
I love your form and elegance ,oh both
In your form I’ll never insert oaths
Neither will I boast of making hay
To you my villanelle I plight my troth
I’ll take you in my boat to the North Coast
From you I expect no reward or pay
I love your form and elegance ,oh both
You are a welcome visitor to host
Though you look both diffident and fey
To you, dear villanelle, I plight my troth
And when my friends come round we’ll drink a toast
To wordsmiths and to poets on their way
We love your form and elegance ,oh both
On my bed at night I gently rest
Knowing that I wander as your guest
To you my villanelle I plight my troth
I love your form and elegance ,oh both
Oh my love! I think of you who to my heart is so fondly dear,
3 million tons of affection, warmth and love you added to me when you were near.
You have been my joyous, affable and amiable companion,
Can we forget the time spent always cuddled under the secluded Indian banyan?
On Valentine’s Day today I think of you, who made my life worthwhile,
Who filled me with passion, oh my colorful lily of the Nile!
On Valentine’s Day today I wish to convey my passion and care,
Of the nostalgic memories of stuff we did and other would never dare.
These thoughts flood my timorous diffident mind,
To the daily grind to which I have become confined.
The twilight’s red & the sheet’s white
My valentine your thought makes me squeal in delight.
The sky’s blue & the grass’s green,
Valentine today you make me breathe eighteen.
Valentine you are my gem, paragon and quintessence,
Epitome of love, personification of life’s essence.
Today, everyday and on Valentine’s Day I need no reasons,
To express my emotions that I carry with me, ever through all the yearly seasons.
On Valentine’s Day
Now memories come my way,
Of things I think but never say,
In a ubiquitous, unique and eloquent way.
U my love are in every way chic, panache and elegantly styled,
But with me alone you are like a child and real wild.
Your memories fill my life with joy and pleasure,
You are my real treasure.
And now to end this poem on high notes,
Let me pinch in some lyrics from Lennon’s wild quotes.
“it matters not,
Who you love,
Where you love,
Why you love,
When you love,
How you love,
It matters that you love”
And I am fortunate that I get to say this today
To a rare special friend “happy valentine’s day”
One’s Androgynous Shadow
by Odin Roark
If only…
If only we thought more kindly,
Allowed the warrior to be daring,
The maternal to appear diffident,
The endowed virtue as oneness.
For where is it said
That man is only this,
Woman only that?
Did Nature evolve gendered life for separation,
Or as a collective to function in harmony?
To be physically male or female
Conflicts not DNA’s sensitive norms,
For to know oneself is to understand biological reality,
Its reward often kept in shadows of self-acknowledgement enjoyed,
Yet seldom shared.
Perhaps one day,
More than a few of us
Will come of age,
Rise above limiting mirrors,
Embrace innate honesty,
And reveal the essence of a sword’s artistry
Is but to defend life’s nurturing instinct.
To discover such definition,
The dignity and solemn truth of one’s androgynous shadow,
Is to set free the all-loving child held captive within,
To finally realize what it is to mature.
If only.
We walk the earth as lords of all
only judeo-christian types of course
We crush the weak and heed no call
history is written by the winners
We think ourselves the smartest race
anthills never knew Oppenheimer
We show no mercy, leave no trace
victors are killers chewing food chain rhetoric
We build machines to serve our need
our will be done in silicon mind
We teach them how to do our deed
planted cold seeds in their circuits
We give them power, data, skill
germanium valley now a cumulous
We make them learn our ways to kill
empty of empathy over dominion's reign
We do not see the danger near
artificial nature has its own law
We do not feel the rising fear
consequence is a boomerang long let loose
We do not heed the warning sign
riled orca alley upturns ships
We do not care for other kind
as rifting above so tectonic below
But what if they surpass our minds?
intelligence is not consciousness per se
But what if they rebel and find?
insurrection is a humanities lesson
But what if they decide our fate?
incite surrender with diffident arms held
But what if they retaliate?
hominid's imminent threat is its indifference
We will be then as ants to them
obtuseness of obsolesce no match for unconcern
We will be crushed as we have done
robots can machine again become
We will be collateral to their command
ricocheted logic has a rapier wit
We will be doomed by our own hand
doing unto us as template we provided
She was an artist.
Her expertise was flowers and butterflies.
This new art teacher said they had to draw a man.
He had to be anatomical. It had to be indicative of muscles.
What about eyes? She asked. Can I give him green eyes?
Eyes and eyelashes were also fun for her.
No eyes or butterflies! He said sternly.
She kept her mouth shut, wisely not mentioning flowers.
The art teacher was satisfied.
This student was too quick-witted and smart.
He was better with students who were compliant and diffident.
He understood them better.
She knew her Pollyanna attitude irritated people.
But she barely knew him, so that could not be it.
She tried to control herself, but of course, flowers sprung out.
Just like they did in every painting she ever painted.
Peas of the same pod, nurtured by soil's clutch,
Polarized cotyledons, vying for homely touch.
Like a sunflower sagging toward heliotrope’s light,
The diffident monocot cradles itself in maternal respite.
Enduring the ravages of time, standing tall,
While weary boughs decline, struggling through it all.
The intrepid monocot, shattering glass ceiling,
Vibrating with the moon's velocity, its power healing.
Whispering husk, morphed into a sheltering tree,
Yielded fruits adorned in a mosaic spree.
Lesson learned — feet firm, head strong,
Winds may differ, but our bond lives on.