Long Self discovery Poems
Long Self discovery Poems. Below are the most popular long Self discovery by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Self discovery poems by poem length and keyword.
In the twilight of youthful dreams, where shadows danced with whispers of hope,
He fled at eighteen, with a heart full of wanderlust, despising the confines of his small town,
With a smile etched on his lips, freed from the frown of familiarity,
The world called to him, a vast canvas waiting for his touch, a realm of endless possibilities.
He traveled through the landscape of his desires, in improvised and bold ways,
Hitchhiking on the highways of uncertainty, sneaking onto trains like a phantom,
And when desperation called, he hid in hidden corners, a fugitive from convention,
Often drenched by the gusts of rain, the sky weeping as he chased the horizon.
For two years, he pursued his dreams, a vagabond on the path of self-discovery,
With each passing day, wisdom blossomed within him, revealing life's true visage,
A tapestry neither peach nor cream, but woven with threads of joy and sorrow,
And slowly, a sigh for home and hearth whispered through his soul, an echo of belonging.
The journey brought him back, to the door he had left behind, a prodigal son in search of solace,
But when he knocked, the resonance felt foreign, the essence of "home" transformed,
The place he had left had changed, just as he had, in the tide of time and experience,
And there, in the twilight of his quest, he stood, a mosaic of dreams and reality,
A soul forever marked by the dance of shadows and the pursuit of the mystical unknown.
I had a dream yet maybe it was the dream that had me
while I am on a rough journey that I had not intended
the final separation from my partner and lover
who is on her own path of self-discovery
that does not hold any place for me any longer
I held a vessel in both of my hands a boat float or barque
that held all my material and emotional possessions
there was some sort of cabin a home and centre point
then the mud arrived and submerged everything there was
when I began to scratch the surface most everything was gone
but two Olive trees close to each other but not intertwined
my sub-conscience did not reveal whether it was her and I
or her with a new man or maybe another woman
it could be me with a new partner as well in due course
the bigger tree was her with no doubt this is what she wanted
the other merely a measly shrub but with some sprouts trying their best
maybe just two trees of life showing there is some connection
that the soil is fertile and floods slides and disasters would pass
the most important revelation however appears to be
that even after the deluge I was still holding the vessel
and the slimy sludge may well hold the fare for the future
Show me the maps etched in your skin,
the ones the world wasn’t meant to see.
I know the syntax of a wound...
the dialect of the "almost" and the "used to be."
Not the scars of a stumble or a fall
but the weight of a name, a night, a wall;
The words that settled like silt in your chest
until they became the rhythm of your rest.
The deepest hurts don't always bleed;
They manifest in the things you don't need...
In the way your laughter cuts off at the edge,
in the silence you use as a sharpened wedge.
I see the flinch before the touch,
the way you give, but never too much.
Turning your eyes to the floor or the door
before the heart can ask for more.
Show me the jagged, the worn and the deep,
The secrets your silver scarred memories keep.
You aren't a puzzle or a "difficult" soul,
just a story that had to fight to be whole.
For those who have walked through a sunless spark
are the only ones who can see in the dark.
2025 Poetry Marathon Mile 7 Poetry Contest// Sponsored by: Mark Toney
Contest Judged: 8/15/2025 5:31:00 PM
( 2nd Place )
Written: August 10 , 2025
The morning fog low over the empty streets,
soft as a whispered promise.
My shoes slapped the pavement in steady rhythm--
each step a heartbeat counting the miles.
I had yet to run—and those I’d left behind.
Streetlamps stretched shadows across brick walls.
Long, crooked shapes that seemed to shiver.
A dog barked somewhere—
sharp, sudden—
and I remembered even echoes can run far.
I passed the river, silver in the first light,
leaves drifting like tiny paper boats
carrying laughter from summers I can’t hold anymore.
Each puddle mirrored my worn determination,
the uneven steps of a life I’m still figuring out.
At Mile Seven, my legs shake like a leaf
but my brain knocked around a long way—
to faces I love, faces I’ve lost,
half-light I trailed too heavily,
mornings I never perceived.
My hair was windblown.
Mixed with the scent of rain and earth
and the faint hope that keeps moving me further.
I ran—not for medals, not for applause,
but because every stride stitched the fragments
of life into something that felt whole.
When the horizon caught the light--
it wasn’t a line at all.
It was the journey itself—
miles abaft me, ingrained memories,
and the quiet truth.
I ran just find myself
and somehow--I did!
In the misty realm of being, where thought finds rest,
There lies an ancient corridor winding with longing,
Concealing at its end the door to an unexplored, mystical room,
Upon whose walls echo the secretive chant of a spring's source.
This door, untraveled, scorned by the rust of time,
Stands still, guarding over a garden of quiet wanderings,
It finely discriminates between the thicket of sorrowful delirium
And the fervent self-discovery that beckons from restless hearts.
Mystical keeper of the porch where light and shadow play,
It whispers a call to set aside the masks deeply embraced,
The metaphor of the door remains poised to unlock the temple's dare,
When the bolt is broken, the chain of fear shattered, falling aside, distanced.
It, a gate without locks, splits the two worlds, stretching as a bridge,
Beyond which dwells that silence, mute, untouchable, eternal,
A mirror devoid of silver, reflecting only those who've learned to heed themselves,
And to traverse fearlessly, through mysterious lands, with only the soul external.
O, seeker amidst the soul's arcades, through paths hidden among leaves,
Lift your gaze towards the door that's been closed to you daily, yet ever open,
Gentle eternity awaits beyond your wall of dreams and excuses,
Where everything begins and ends, in your hand, the key is unseen but promised.
In passing through the shadow of this world of shifting facades,
The door swings wide, effortlessly, silently, threshold-free,
And within you, in the summer of the soul, where time is but a fluttering leaf,
There lies the sanctuary, the chambers of silence, where you are everything and nothing, a droplet and an entire ocean on the brink.
I can feel silence cursing my ecstatic moments!
Alienating my soul from assembly of love,
Driving me deep to the bleak countryside
To be entertained by untamed minds
Feeding on wandering spirits
Trapped without dignified souvenirs,
With secrets manipulating their miseries
As they roam within cryptic circles
Coming alive to realize, that…
Silence is a vicious force,
That holds folks within hollowness,
Resembling souls caged in the wilderness,
Senses colliding inside alien terrain,
Sorrow flipping its wings,
With nerves tingling unmanageable
Making one feel awful and disgusting
Mystic images floating in one’s thoughts.
Past judgements revolting,
Stretching the chasm between one and his heart,
To sense dark days coming down,
Fearing if demons are becoming victorious,
While hoping for humanitarian gesture,
To cure infinite sleepless nights,
Unlock doors for lone adventurous voyage…
A chance to chase plaguing solo dreams,
Grasp the journey of self-discovery!
To unplug silence tunes,
That could aid me seek life sailing through the light,
To reveal my presence with fresh mandate,
And experience moment of glorious amelioration
Feeling I’m back home where I belong.
In the cosmic silence, under the rain of stars dreaming in deep abysses,
My soul travels through the veil of a universe of shadows and lights,
With each step in the night, when the whispers of ages caress my ears,
When the wind brings echoes from beyond time, of forgotten longings and lost dreams.
In a world of shattered mirrors, where illusions intertwine with truth,
I float over rivers of memories flowing underground, in search of the eternal,
And in the silence that resounds like a bell in the desert of my heart,
I seek my place among constellations, among myths and unfinished stories.
Words are incantations, opening doors to unknown mysteries,
Each syllable, a step in the sacred dance of self-discovery,
And in this intoxicating dance, I feel how the void becomes an ocean of meanings,
Where time is nothing but a circle of smoke, a dream that is born and dies endlessly.
The game of life, a chessboard where pawns are souls thirsty for light,
And kings are shadows watching from corners of the void, silent and still.
In the search for meaning, I look into the eyes of destiny, reflecting in chaos,
And from chaos, I create melodies of silence, a symphony resonating in eternity.
In the slow rhythm of time, night butterflies dance through my dreams,
And the sky opens like an old book, written in stars and unfulfilled longings.
And in this prayer of the heart, I learn to love the lost echoes,
To embrace solitude as an old friendship with the divine mystery.
So my journey continues, on paths where only the soul travels,
In a universe of lights and shadows, where I find peace beyond words,
And in this dance of eternity, I seek answers in the silence of the stars,
Waiting for life to reveal its secrets, while my heart sings.
Self Discovery
A
Violette Poem
sometimes I remember
our time in September
that became an ember
Faint memories
it's unforgettable
not understandable
We aren't valuable
gone centuries
I gave you everything
my love was bellyaching
you don't give anything
wasted journeys
your love slipped from my hands
please stop violent chants
your downgrading commands
angry flurries
from sunny to aching
I am slowly breaking
stop your selfish taking
dark galleries
hopefully you'll soon go
and I can slowly grow
the old me will soon flow
discoveries
By Sam Tab | April 2, 2018 | love
Form:
You deserve connections that don't require you to walk on fragile eggshells to reveal your heart,
where words flow freely like a mountain river, carrying truth and simplicity within them,
without needing to bend your soul into unfamiliar shapes just to protect egos,
and your inner peace to be an inviolable sanctuary, a place where your true self breathes freely.
You deserve connections where peace isn't sacrificed on the altar of unspoken expectations,
where dialogue is a dance of sincerity and mutual respect, without masks.
In this universe of open souls, you are a blossoming tree on the plain of freedom,
with roots deeply anchored in the soil of self-assurance, growing towards clear skies.
You deserve connections that don't ask you to distance yourself from your essence, to break from your core,
but which embrace you as you are, a mosaic of dreams, thoughts, and pure emotions,
where each encounter is a celebration of authenticity and self-discovery,
a place where souls meet in dances of light and shadows, sincere and free.
In this world of true connections, you are an explorer of the heart's depths,
traveling on oceans of understanding and compassion, not losing yourself, but rediscovering.
You deserve connections that fulfill you, that reflect you like a clear and pristine mirror,
where each conversation is a bridge of light between hearts, without distances or walls.
Between these verses flows a river of secret desires, a song of the liberated soul,
and in this uninterrupted flow of thoughts and emotions, you rediscover yourself, you find yourself anew.
"Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all,
but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as
necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry."
— Mary Oliver
Sacred poetry feeds the soul, like slow rhythms of ever green nature,
And the heartbeat's anticipation of sooner, finding satisfaction in later.
Anything is possible in verse, as it flows from fanciful, unbound mind,
Giving sublime inspiration and comfort, in vibrant styles, one of a kind.
Poetry is as vital to wholesome living, as is pursuing your rosy dream,
Though the sun reigns at lemon noonday, under thick clouds of cream!
When you find yourself wandering, poesy rhythm will guide your feet,
In the dance of self discovery and insight, which makes life complete.
Poetry warms eager hearts steadily, and adds pure romance to living,
Like gazing at the twinkling Milky Way, and stars which keep on giving.
Written on 11/24/2022
For: Poetry is a life-cherishing force
Contest
Sponsor: Sotto Poet