Long Self expression Poems
Long Self expression Poems. Below are the most popular long Self expression by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Self expression poems by poem length and keyword.
The man was
handsome, intelligent,
and good in bed.
But he just
had nothing
to say.
And all of his days
were the same.
Monochromatic
introspection followed
by a sort of smothered
self-expression.
He never
felt like himself.
And he always felt
worried about what
other people thought
about him.
Who even was
he?
His routine?
His career?
His interests?
His beliefs?
Beliefs?
The man had
no beliefs, the
man didn’t need
to believe.
For if he started believing
in something, he may have
actually needed
to start existing.
And that idea
scared the
hell out of
him.
Walking along life’s crooked gardened paths
Becomes more meaningful with time;
First early steps to follow butterflies
In bright sun with cheers to make rhymes
Touching soft pink flowers feels heavenly
Pink shoes; pink ice cream; pink dresses;
Feeling “pink” is great along childhood’s path
Little girls with bows in tresses
Young boys prefer blue on pathway’s palette
Various shades on trucks and sky
While wild animals roam imaginations
This blue pathway soon passes by
Today, I think about these pathways of life—
The blacks and reds of self expression
Those paths wandered into bright new frontiers
Where friends shared deepest confessions
Now I am on a path of reality
One previously untraveled
Self-made dreams begin to fall all around
Health-related thoughts unraveled
Let pink Roses and blue Wisteria
Border this path with white Hyacinth;
As unfamiliar weeds crowd this pathway—
Meandering through new labyrinth
ahhh... the crisp feel of the new notebook
its spine never cracked open
its pages of virgin white perfectly aligned
awaiting their marching orders
eager for all and any pen markings
from sunday best handwriting to doodles
inviting playful interaction
your creative élan of spontaneity
random thoughts splashed on a page
scripted lines scribbled to offload
a mind seeking clarity, peace or absolution
seeking a semblance of order
of profound clarity or silly mischief
one page then another
the daily journal of a busy mind
in search of something
through self-expression
hoping to find it between
the whites of pages
and the ink of a ballpoint pen
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
~ Swirling, Sweetness of Poetry ~
Just think, it’s the start of a shining, dewy today!
There is magic in your fingers, so write without delay.
In this world, we, with cotton- candy dreams, spin the future ahead,
After all, you are fully alive, you are neither a corpse, nor are you dead!
This world belongs to the living, we are the futures’ tomorrows!
So do stop weeping for the dead, it brings your soul, only ongoing sorrow.
Even tiny children tearfully know, when to let their beloved toys go.
So for you, grow~ it’s time to get on with your dazzling, poetry show.
To the future, do raise your crystal glasses of hope high!
Keep sweet, yes, but dare not consume any humble pie.
There are friends here who won’t ever leave your side.
But, if any do~ no problem, you will forgive with joy and abide!
Poetry for me is not a carnival, with worldly prizes and praise to win.
It’s the sacred grounds of my self-expression, my soul shining twin!
Love and frienship,
Pangie
7/9/2024
Escape from mirrors of reality...
are wondrous trips to lands of poetry,
where inner thoughts and visions come to be
expressed with chosen words of imagery...
reflecting the deep heart and soul of me.
Like brilliant jewels are the words I see,
each one, a shining gem placed artfully
to paint emotions that from me flow free,
reflecting wonders of life's mystery...
of nature, God and our humanity.
To share my thoughts and feelings naturally
through words that paint a soulful scenery,
which readers may relate to, hopefully,
may help to soothe and heal them peacefully
or wake up hidden joys from memory.
Though thoughts, through poetry, spring fluently;
the want to read, enjoy, flows endlessly.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: December 2018
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 12/06/2018
~1st Place~
Contest: Why Would Your Self-Expression Matter To Others
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Judged: 10/04/2018
Questions Addressed:
Why write and share your writings? (stanzas 1, 2)
Why would your self-expression matter to others? (stanza 3)
Does the world needs more poetry (last two lines)
Nice shoes
and a fancy saddle
a beautiful horse
a gorgeous, gorgeous horse!
Oh to be, love and excepted
a graduier way for me to feel
a gaudy way for self expression
the silk you see is for real
owning and caring for
the whole ordeal
shined my shoes
they shine like polished steel
people of this hemisphere
an earthy more healthy
way to play
to sing from such a position
all can hear what I say
every sorted gesture
ah rhmns for singing
not just any ole way
this one has meaning
Oh til then
on we go
if you need
I'll told you so
aint no love
like you and I
When the world
opened it's eyes
a covering of clouds
in the sky
fruits for us
portioned to be
the offering of
my love for thee
You must think I am crazy
lap steel guitars
string benders
Bassey Grooves
and drums
Look at the tall, young man
walking down the street
in black, tattered shoes.
He is wearing a purple beret
and a bright orange and white
striped shirt.
His dark blonde hair is
long and layered.
His body in thin and lean.
He has a handsome face
with dark, arched brows
that frame his grey-green eyes.
He walks with a nonchalance
yet there is a determined look
on his face.
His mind is full of creative ideas
lost in fantastical thoughts.
He observes and contemplates
films and edits
draws and envisions.
He is looking to make his mark
in the world
To have his voice heard
To stand out among the many.
The competition is fierce
yet he will not compromise.
The goal is authentic
self expression.
Through the pain of
repeated rejection
he continues to put
one step in front
of the other.
One day he will
succeed, if he
perseveres.
Keep walking
young man
my son.
Written in April, 2004
Over the holidays, I was watching Lisa’s sister little Leeza, she’s 14.
She has a rebellious fashion sense and a joyful innocence.
She’s still fearless too, and on-God, I hope she never loses that.
Too soon though—the disco’s coming to town—the world’s coming for her. It’s the same for all of us, I suppose, but in Lisa and my cases, covid shut it all down.
It’s a rite of passage—the shoes, the bodycon dresses and the makeup. Those carry negative connotations, I get it, but there’s an excitement too, about finally getting to dress like an adult—a woman—in one of those bodycon, cut-out dresses.
I know the pressures on women and their bodies, but at her age, it's not all stress, cattiness and comparisons—it’s just innocent teen fun. She and her posse can take hours just dressing and doing their make-up—together. It’s probably the best part of their night.
Leeza’s dad (Michael) saw the little group of teens, all dolled-up and launched, like a SpaceX Starship. Pacing the living room, he quietly opined to Karen (her mom), “I don’t want her going out dressed like that.”
Karen was right there with him to cool things down, “No, hun, at her age, it’s about self-expression, learning and girl bonding—these connections are really important in the girl-world.”
I’m not worried about Leeza’s physical safety. These girls are watched over and gently curated. Their every movement is orchestrated and security escorted—hell, Hamas couldn’t get to them—much less some gropey boy.
There’s just this new awareness these days of how unhappy some people are—and a lot of them are teen girls. I wouldn’t want to see Leeza mired in the sad, brain-draining social media pressure and self-esteem traps.
Teenhood is scary—I was feelin’ positively parental.
Then I looked at Lisa, and I was reminded that they’ve done all this before, and she has a big-sister, role-model too.
.
.
Songs for this:
Good Time Girl (feat. Charlie Barker) by Sofi Tukker
Dance To This (feat. Ariana Grande) by Troye Sivan
Why do you read me?
Surely not for the artistry of the words
They are not flowery
Or veiled in mystery
They speak in tones of mediocrity
For profound they are not
Simple, simple words
Honey coated, perhaps
Is that why you read?
Why do you read me?
Is it because you want to live
An alternate life
Where love and passion
Are a surging sea
Always tumultuous
Always pounding
Surging
Free
Is that why your read?
Why do you read me?
Is it because you want a peek
Where all my fantasies hide
A voyeur looking in
To catch a glimpse of my dreams
Dressed in pretty lace
Waiting for gentle fingers to untie
The satin strings that bind
To uncover the beauty within
Is that why read?
Why do you read me?
Is it to read what others have penned
In appreciation
In commendation
To see what the one you love
May have left me as precious gift
A heart full of longing
For the praise given to me
Wondering, wondering
What he sees in my simple poetry
Is that why you read?
Why do you read me?
Is it because you are a friend
And not matter what I may write
Be it worthless or divine
You will cheer me on
Wanting me to know
That your love reaches me
That your cyber eyes can see
Beyond my insatiable desire
For self-expression
The woman behind the words
In need of camaraderie
A sweet company
A friendly touch of love
And kiss of sympathy
Is that why you read?
I wish, I hope, I dream
That you read me
Because you find....
A little bit of your life redefined
A little bit of your cares expressed
A little bit of your heartache shared
A little bit of your joy celebrated
A little bit of your fear dissipated
A little bit of your fantasy explored
A little bit of your love elevated
A little bit of you
And your amazing hue
Enmeshed in the lines
In my simple rhymes
Your and my soul combined
Living and breathing
In my poetry
In the core
Of my words
Inside of me
An encapsulated moment
Of eternity....
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Dear Poetry,
What would I do without you?
You have been my avenue of self-expression,
My platform to release confessions,
And an outlet to aid me in my own emotional healing.
How can I ever repay you
For the countless times you have saved me,
The creative writer you have made me,
And the ways in which you have given me hope
When I felt my world crumbling down around me?
It is in this art form that I claim my purpose,
The reason I can bring my words to the surface,
That enables me to push past the pain with a pin—
My deepest thoughts within,
Impatiently waiting to be placed on paper.
Dear Poetry,
You are my voice when I can’t speak,
My strength whenever I am weak,
And my courage that allows me to be just who I am, despite what others may think of me
I am now and forever grateful for letting go—
Letting go of what no longer serves me: a state of mind once deemed unworthy, now discarded, where value of self has taken its place.
And though at times, thoughts of doubt still echoes in my mind, like the footsteps in an empty hallway, it is with this pin, that I have learned how to quiet the negative thoughts within