Long Impulsiveness Poems
Long Impulsiveness Poems. Below are the most popular long Impulsiveness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Impulsiveness poems by poem length and keyword.
Line of inquiry from Unseeking Seeker:
"discarding narrow thought flow crutch
we learn directly by soft touch
and what we garner we relay
to the vast void in childlike play
entwined thus with the universe
we dance without need to rehearse"
_______________________________________________
Ahhh, Spontaneity! How wonderful it is.
It separates adults from children more often than not.
It’s that magical quality which often seems to me
that some people in their older age simply have forgot!
Spontaneity . . . Maybe it’s the essence of authenticity
when you can be yourself and say exactly what you think.
Maturity can keep us from being much too blunt,
yet spontaneity can be subtle like a winsome wink.
Spontaneity . . .Imagine yourself when young.
How easily you laughed; how happily you simply played.
Sadly, it’s not that way for kids from homes of terror,
yet I hope that most of us recall impulsiveness we once displayed.
Did you hop onto your bike, riding anywhere without a care?
Did you ever jump into a pond where tadpoles swam -
trying to catch them while cupping them in your small hands?
Did you grab an apple off a neighbor’s tree, then have to scram?
Did you play with tiny cars or trucks, causing them to crash?
Did you pretend your doll was you and then converse
with your best friend’s dolly as if that doll were her?
Did you make up little plays you never did rehearse?
I did all those things and more. It was a different time.
I could run, play ball, and all through town I’d roam
with friends or siblings. How we laughed and had such fun.
It was not till darkness fell we even would go home.
Today kids have to be more careful, yet I see them play
showing imagination like when as a child I did.
Were you like me, and do you ever dream about today
those fascinating things that you dreamed of as a kid?
Unfortunately as adults, we have a lot of rules.
Rule are necessary, but we must not let
the rigidity of them replace the joy of having fun.
The inner child in all of us we must not forget.
Spontaneity . . . Reclaim what you may have lost.
Calm your mind; lighten up; laugh and smile more.
Embrace creative thinking; be as honest as you can.
The child inside of you is one you never should ignore!
I spoke those words impulsively,
I didn't think them through,
And now I disagree with me,
Knowing you do too.
We analysed at the same time,
simultaneously conclude,
Scrutinising my own mind,
disagreeing just like you.
What a stupid thing to say,
Is what you say to me,
Confusing if I say the same,
Even though I now agree.
I live aware but can't prevent
the impulsive words I speak,
I live with this embarrassment,
An everyday repeat defeat.
They say there's always one,
that one is always me,
And I guess what is said is done,
that is just the way it be.
Sorry if I am unpleasant
I speak truthfully,
unnecessarily and blunt,
beat them down beautifully.
To be honest I can't lie,
when I do I'm transparent,
so I live an honest life,
facing what the others haven't.
How can I hide my ADHD
when it's so apparent,
wear my heart on my sleeve,
resilience my talent.
It's all I know so ordinary,
I said before it is defeat,
not though more importantly,
worn down on repeat.
Some people who manipulate
steer clear of reality,
Denial first then stipulate,
weirdos reek of vanity.
They are needing this protection
against things I have overcome,
I'm the odd one out, the exception,
strength confronting things they run.
So yes I'm stupid blunt and nasty,
awkwardly impulsive often,
the spoken truth can be ghastly,
but fake's repulsive and chosen.
Project your self image as immaculate,
full of wisdom and intelligence,
skilled hindsight speaking accurate,
foolish symptoms and pretence.
I face the world that I live in,
impulsiveness is not my choice,
some fake the world they live in,
decisiveness in a lying voice.
At least I'm not scared to be me,
openly showing my personality,
never faking my identity,
pitying those act unnaturally
I see drunk men
A lingering scent of alcohol from power
Power-drunk men
The type of inebriation
Where imbalance manifests as impulsiveness
Not materialistic enough to construct
But sufficient to set disruption in motion
A seed yielding acts of corruption
Influencing the youth
Boasting to elders
Men of power
Children of the soil
The rain does not linger above but descends to the earth
Water your roots
Nourish the source of your strength through humility
If men of power evolve
We arrive at an economic resolution
Like lilies in spring, kindness unfolds
We don't march to destroy
But to grow together
delirious and incoherent
or deceived and undermined
often the woman in his life
caused such.
His wealth allowed him to
afford the company of
beautiful women some of which
were neither friendly or kind
his current beau was rumored
to be involved with several men
through the area
One said she like a cat
impulsiveness, and agreeableness
allowed her to seem kind yet to know her
and those that did often keep a certain distance
keeping a level of distance to obtain
a friendship the optimal level of intimacy
where she'd seemed busier than she actually was.
inconsistencies were often laughed off
a smile and kiss a romp now and then
she thought it would satisfy him, leaving her to appear
unapproachable and real opposed to eagerness
or over eagerness, loving and kind.
A friend of her.
If there none to be of poetry
The night would have no stars
to guide love slaves their incentive
to produce yet a simple flint to spark
and swoon pulsating hearts their claim
steads a blank page none commit to mind
If there none to be of poetry
Shakespeare would be a beggar
on the streets of London for pence
as Romeo Montague and Juliet Capulet
would be none to chapter or verse for fall
as there be no impulsiveness of poor Romeo
no sincerity nor persistence and from fair Juliet
no thoughtfulness, caution or her maturity of her
young age, and if their death is, it would be in vain
If there none to be of poetry
I would fail to peg my life from a
wandering and be ever consumed
passing by an emptied church made
voiceless due to nonexistent hymns and
psalms or gospel music, nor festive tunes
to enlighten souls concerning merriment at
the unparalleled holidays or bands to play and
nothing but political and psychological tirades on
the musicless auto radios offering for a boring ride
If there none to be of poetry
the world be eternally bane
2020 January 20 *2nd Place*
If there was no poetry Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
2020 January 26 *3rd Place*
STRAND CHOICE 6,any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
I dream a world of contrasts and evolution
Bold smartness and resolution
In so much as:
Flat things are flat for all people,
and shades of gray are not adulterated by photoshopping.
Facts and opinions regain their identities.
Deception is an accident not a strategy.
Trust is earned.
Empathy is respected as a strength.
Impulsiveness once again is the domain of toddlers,
not an asset of adults.
The racial spectrum achieves a balance and cohesiveness
unachievable by Versace or DaVinci or Trump.
Our differences are assets we share.
Ideas are guided by compassion and wisdom,
and triumph when they find their words.
I dream a world of contrasts and evolution
Bold smartness and resolution
As a young teen I sadly confess, I dreamt of becoming an actress.
A class assignment drew me to Warner's in D.C., where I
brushed up against black history..
I stumbled into a meeting of the NAACP.
The people welcomed one out of touch, this
young white girl who had way too much..
Months later, although mom's words were harsh my dad and I
went to the Poor Peoples March. I was amazed to see thousands there,
those pop up tents from every where. I drove by with peripheral vision,
those fleeting glimpses of how others were living..
Early years passed and I matured some how, remaining oblivious to "black
power".
I graduated from high school and was freed from mom and watched as
several of my class mates went straight to Viet Nam..
I never went to Woodstock nor protested the war, too caught up in my
story to care about the poor..
I moved from sheltered Silver Spring to New York City and had my own
adventures there, some not very pretty..
I indulged in a little "huffing and puffing". My hands were in a wheat film
buttering an English muffin..
Impulsiveness and hormones got the best of me so at a young age I
began my family..
Many moons later while finishing my degree I learned so much more
about Black history. As a minority student at Bowie State I had a teacher,
Dr. Kondo and he was truly great. He had just consulted for the film
Malcolm X and filled me in on all those voids not written in the texts.
The greatest of gifts that one can bestow is to take off those blind folds
and help some one grow.
Today,
Today is a brand new day
Today is highly unexpected
Today I never saw it coming
Today I'm paralysed by all emotions
Today I'm terrified out of my mind
Today my stomach is all knotted up
Today I want to just sit & think
Today I just want to run away....
But i will not...
Because today i choose bravery
Today I'm choosing to stay
Today I'm choosing to trust
Today I'm choosing to leap
Today I'm choosing to be bold
Today I choose impulsiveness over reason
Today I choose blind faith
Because today for some insane reason...
Today...I choose you my best friend...
To be my person, my crazy person
To be the person i trust with my heart
To be the person i embark on the unknown
Today...I choose you...
A quoted warning tells us, “haste makes waste.”
Perhaps not so- denied by nature's sway.
Life spontaneity survives post-haste;
on this, God-given souls likewise convey.
Our inner selves are fashioned to express
impulsiveness to grasp life and to share.
No time to pause and study, then digress;
must implement its joys with timely care.
So, in-the-moment action follows through
when partnered with the heart to lead the mind;
as when a child gifts dandelions to you-
picked quickly from the lawn with love assigned.
And so, forethought oft kills that magic spell-
which acts of spontaneity impel.
The hardest thing to give is forgiveness;
it goes against anger's impulsiveness.
And because emotions control our thoughts;
feelings are ready to fill in the dots.
Your heart won't abandon love for regret,
and given enough time, it will forget.
Yet, it is more difficult to forgive
a sin strained through an emotional sieve.
The urge to strike out and send the hurt back,
can make you want to go on the attack.
And when love asks, you forgive, love asks much;
yet you must admit, you will miss his touch.
Burnt in anger's flame, the phoenix of hope
rises from the ash so lovers can cope.
And forgiveness often approaches you;
in the guise of memories shared by two.
You let yourself overlook any wrong;
and encourage your heart to get along.
For coming to grips with the fact love lies;
the impulse to never forgive subsides.