Naively Poems | Examples

Kundalini

This isn’t what I signed up to,
Naively-sprayed cologne overwhelmed by lavender, incense and the sound of a pan flute.

The strongest drink turning out to be green tea,
“Good for the mind” she said, 
It wasn’t my mind that I came here for.

I comply anyway,
Resisting eye-rolls and still holding out hope whilst her cheap dreamcatcher sways slightly.

She says to breathe,
So of course I do,
A sharp but soothing ache starts, almost a warm presence.

For once, I stay mute,
Allowing this quiet movement occur,
My skin tingling, but not for her.

I may not fully understand it,
And maybe that’s ok, 
Maybe something doesn’t have to be mine for it to stay with me.

Absence

Though the carpet teemed with costumes, toys and figures, laid orderlessly, it was barren. 
Distant echoes of the battery powered monkey clapped naively through the still air, and its dim LED eyes softly flickered.

A thread of light shifted through the overcast clouds and chipped window pane, placing itself where someone had once been. Each step creaked the empty yellowed racecar bedstead which ached in loneliness, weakly reminiscing. 

Nothing is said, as superheroes lean against the bedframe and villains lay beside them. They  keep their place, perhaps waiting for an end to the silence. I lay beside them, another still figure. Silent. Static. Hoping, foolishly, to escape this hollow world.

A Sudden Loss

How can a day start off normal
With the mundane usual things,
Almost predictable, daily tasks and trips
Life's general happenings?

Then someone you love hugs you goodbye,
"I'll see you soon my dears..."
How much longer would we have held that embrace
If we knew it was the last for years?

The last time they told you how tired they were,
Would you have found a new way to convey
Your sympathy and care, not just rubbing their back
And saying you're sorry they felt this way?

When you're taught that we know not
What tomorrow will bring and our life is but a mist,
You don't imagine a light on a life will go out
So sudden. So quick! So greatly missed!

Naively we expect a warning or sign
That our special loved one will go.
And those left behind would prepare heart and mind
For the grief, pain and sorrow to follow.

But that day began like many before.
Yet a hard hitting truth we would learn.
One day we each will walk through a door
And sadly, we will not return.

Alphabet Soup

Adventure brewed crowded dreams,
endlessly fairs genteel habit,
instilled jargons,
kidnapped laurels minted- naively,
oscillating power quickly,
rendering sweeten treasures universal voice,
warrior xysts zoologically.

New Year

It's a New Year again,
Time to turn another
page -- though I am
far from new~

closer to Old Sage.

Time to forgive...and let
go... -- as seasons flow
the cold of January
will leave our North~ 
Southern breeze will again 
melt the snow, thawing 
Nature's frostier thermostat -- 
(a subtle lesson in 
there for all of us) -- 

Myself, never much for skiing -- 

having taste closer in line with toasty-sand 
and dazzling-shore

however, no need to further bore anyone with
my own preference -- mindful that we all have 
personal deference -- but more than enough
in fond common not to foolishly feel need to share any
affections not deemed innately neutral, amiably acceptable when 
cordially meeting and passing -  

My this year's resolution:

To make a little less fecal
pollution

to love a little more

a welcome mat not far from

the bell camera at the front
door -- 

I won't be naively foolish -- but maybe
a bit less frightfully ghoulish...

Returning to the Flock

The grass seems greener on the other side, so we sometimes forget that the Lord will provide. We step away from the safety we receive so we step into danger and then we start to grieve. The wolf hides among us and we naively don't see the snare, until we're caught up in the unknown trap, with no help anywhere. We're blessed to have a Shepard to leave the flock behind and go searching for the lost ones to rejoin the ninety-nine. Sometimes each of us stumbles and sometimes each of us strays, but our Shepard is a faithful one and seeks us out always. The grass seems oh so pleasant when we are not satisfied, when we're carried away by stubbornness and blinded by our pride. But the grass is never as good as we think, for it is all the same, and looks can be deceiving, it's part of life's cruel game. So let's stick close to our Shepard, contented and not stressed. We'll lie down in peace and comfort and in safety we will rest.

I Am Thankful For

Being alive to see the next day
Allows for people to look my way
They see a soul with gall and sway
But there are a few things I'd like to say

My viewpoint on life is somewhat unusual
I look to the ground for an explanation of the usual
A wish to understand the growing of the land
And lend my very own naively led hand

I tend to the growing white orchids, still young
I marvel as they use the Sun as their lung
To witness it long before it withers
It gives me a gratitude that perpetually quivers.

Faded Photographs

We're born innocent, naively alive;
from babe to toddler; we know only love.
But things start to change as we approach five:
Santa isn't real, and push turns to shove.

We learn by example or pay the cost:
peer pressure can dissolve the strongest bonds.
By asking questions, we're already lost:
buck the system, and see how it responds.

Like fading photographs, memories blur
as the years accumulate over time.
We'd like to believe miracles occur:
but life has always been an uphill climb.

And at the end, through faded photographs:
we peruse the memories of our laughs.

Peace is a heartbeat from death

The trigger finger,

Button of mass destruction:

Blood-lust from father to
son passed -- children learn
by what parents do, even more than
from what we say

Let us pray:

Dear God, save us from self inflicted
evil today; 

Save us from such sad sorrow going
into the morrow;

Let Your Christ Sacrifice be not for
naught; in Your mercy and fairness
penitently our refuge is sought

The Devil rules when Love forsaken

Every grave a plot where lies a precious
child, victim of another wrongly taught

Though far wiser purchases for mankind

Warrior mentality

Weapons of war is the industry

Most sold 

And naively bought....

Personal

The silver spoon that poisoned me
Secrets that pillaged an open heart
took my healthy blood and turned it rotten
Caused me remorse beyond repent
Lead me to another lifetime
Of correction
Surely I will see you again
But this time I won't naively follow into wicked sadistic ways
Of pure gratification
Hopefully my innocence will be preserved and not wasted on evil cardinal sin
You lead me down a path so damaging that it left a permanent scar for everyone to see, a girl without innocence
left with forgiveness that risen from the ashes of life you burnt

Apathy

I wrap my fingers around the pen
which has lain dormant collecting dust
for months on end feeling as if
I'm lifting a fifty pound weight
straining not just my joints
but my brain, its neurons refusing
to fire like the broken burner of a
gas stove with a malfunctioning igniter
fouling the air with noxious fumes
as it fails to burst into blue flame
a single spark threatening an explosion
that will decimate everything I hold dear
My lone gift life bestowed upon me
I once naively believed would
change everything has altered 
exactly nothing as my words are
like whispers in a windstorm
to the world, to you
whose image I was deluded 
enough to imagine there might 
be a chance would match reality
that someone, that you
could actually care

the client kingdom

A client kingdom

So here we are a day older and yet learning more
who would have thought the blowing up of the North Stream 2 helped by the Norwegian navy?'
Few knew this annal little country had the capability
the technical know-how to help in this 
dastardly conduct.
This little country up North with deep fjords and
reindeer, snow, the tourist industry, and waterfalls
who has gone woke, electric cars and solar panels 
This little country that thinks of going the whole 
hog and doing away with money could do this
this little country that sells oil and gas for export
to fund their green policy at home
does not appear to understand how despicable
it has become, blinded as it is by its wealth
When you realize that the country is an extension
of the USA always ready to do its bidding
then it becomes clear Norway is a client state
that indulged to play a self indulges play
about the environment naively saving the planet
as long as it is at beck and call when needed
to do some dastardly work.

Knitting

Knitting is an activity
I like to binge on and explore 
Tempted by the colours
At the local spotlight store

All manner of gorgeous hues
In all different kinds of ply 
Glow brightly from the shelves 
Priced ludicrously high 

I started off naively thinking 
I'd make something fab to wear 
Massively overestimating 
My skills and time to spare 

It's taken me absolutely ages 
And honestly, it looks a bloody sight 
One sleeve is longer than the other
And the neckband far too tight 

Never mind! I soldier on 
It will look better when it's done 
But now I see I've dropped a stitch 
And a holes begun to run 

At last I'm on the homeward straight 
Casting off the final row 
But as nearly always happens..... 
I'm out of yarn. The final blow.

Ripe Time To Hate Kate

From time to time sets a bait,
Her patience she makes sure wait;
Over issues would she skate:
In sweet words the tempting state
And seek to mask thy sad fate!

It is not spurious her bet;
Her marked gift is a glass plate:
Something surely at real stake;
Time for you to right steps take,
Kate's to-be-voiced favors fake!

So, now it's clearly a bait,
You should not naively wait.
Kate you meet for an asked date
But sure make you are damned late,
Never using her front gate...

If, at last, it proved a bait,
'Very poor' should men rate Kate.
You to stop calling her classmate
You once borrowed her black slate...

Also ripe time to Kate hate...

Dark Places

She felt emptiness, melancholy, and lacking self-love

                Seeking to discover love. She believed she was loveless as

                a little girl since her father was presence was sparse entering
   
                into her maturing years. She seemed to be in a state of naively

                 to affirm that she was thinking she had surely found her

                 Knights and in shiny armor. Another illusion of abandonment, 

                  when will these heartless cycle break? Abusive associations

                  and betrayals, Dark Places once again approaching depression,

                   violated at gunpoint manipulation and smearing one's name,

                  loss of family members. for what purpose do you continue to

                  wreak havoc in contact with my soul, One takes 3 steps forward

                 , instantly you move one backward now next to three near death

                accounts. Dark Places you are physically and mentally recurrently

               in contact with her. Dark places you no longer have relevance in

               her life, She now chooses morality and self-love.

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