She laughs, she cries, then she sighs
brimming with confidence,
the pain within she denies
Her heart thumps then skips a beat,
as she reads poetry, a taste of bittersweet
In quiets empty moments, a hole
remains deeply in the soul,
an abyss, an unmeasured chasm
It’s the space p~o~e~t~r~y fills
Her personal dead poet society
stirring her deepest passions
awakens her dormant desire
her quest not for fame or fortune
but for the elusive treasure of inner piece
Her confidence misconstrues itself for vanity perhaps
sureness
positiveness
conviction
certitude
reliability
assuredness
assurance
validity
conclusiveness
authoritativeness
truth
factualness
self-possession
nerve
poise
aplomb
presence of mind
phlegm
level-headedness
cool-headedness
firmness
courage
boldness
mettle
fortitude
belief in oneself
faith in oneself ...
…
…
...are all just more vanities?
free-spirited or lost soul?
do both make one another?
the vanity of human wishes?
work in progress…
Categories:
self possession, confidence, feelings,
Form: Dramatic Verse
The fear of the unknown has
emerged every single sensitive gut feeling of hunger...
a hunger so excruciating that my mind calls out for all my immeasurable emotions and painstakingly feelings to amalgamate
The fear of the unknown left my humanity weakened - drowned by all its uncertainty
I am once more nothing but a lifeless victim of...the unknown
Small changes of letting go of everything you were once certain of, frightened by the mere fact of something new and life changing
As my mind and heart plays tug of war trying to persuade me between letting go of feeling petrified or just to just linger for a moment and to seize the unrevealed
As all of this seems so overwhelming, I try to come to sense of my options towards as to what my gut wants me to feed it.
I know I need to feed it self-possession to ensure that I do not starve my inner conscious
My mind is now continuously reminding me that fear, is only fear itself
I'm once more persuaded by my gut to listen to my mind and to liaise in terms of letting go and to clasp onto the unknown
Categories:
self possession, growth,
Form: Free verse
Love of truth
the very light of Greece
A peninsula thrust out
like a bony hand,
‘God-tormented Greece,’
Zeus exclaimed,
“I shall give man ‘an evil,’ as the price of fire:
They will clasp destruction with laughter of desire.”
The Gods live on-even though obscure.
Fate rules them too, as Zeus learns
the heroes must die; and the greater
the heroism the earlier the death.
Greece being, itself so divided
between the rational and irrational,
between logic and instinct,
between the scientific and the magical,
between the state of self possession
and that of being possessed,
and one can continue……
between symmetry and diversity,
between the recognition of limits
and the pursuit of the limitless,
between restraint and vaulting ambitions,
or hubris, Pythagoras in all his wisdom
could achieve no resolution or harmonia.
Of all these diverse elements, what was
greatest in him, and in Greece,
was the recognition of these conflicts
for what they were…….
that by grappling with them
a better order in life might then arise.
Categories:
self possession, change, mythology, society,
Form: Free verse
Between the muted walls
Of the small space I call my own,
I displace all my belongings,
Before the arrival of the Fall,
And change the picture of my home
To resemble the colored world...
Like an artist's palette:
Green, yellow, red and sky's blue,
All magical colors,
Each playing an important role
In my everyday mood...
Even the shiny reflection of copper
Touches my inner self,
When in my fortress alone,
I am totally secluded
Before the arrival of the Fall...
The human's heart
Was designed beyond heaven's gate,
Interior-like the soul,
But made separate
By self-possession and regret
Of beauty less than infinite...
Now here I am standing
Clearly on a solid ground,
Proudly having a mind of my own,
Feeling real great,
Nervously awaiting for
The arrival of the Fall...
Romeo Della Valle-NYC
Categories:
self possession, nature,
Form: Verse
My mind is quiet as I walk upon this path
And I am at ease within the mist that flows around me embracing me in its cool grasp.
Gladly I smile as my soul roams freely beyond the thoughts of yesteryears.
For at fifty two I have released into the silence my self proclaimed cheers.
I roam past the Victorian homes that line this walkway.
These homes now lay empty, their windows darkened of the light they once did portray.
As the memories caught in their glass reflections gently fade away,
I let go to the drifting tide the elusive love where he did betray.
Grateful I am to see the windows now darkened.
Yes, grateful I feel to know and understand that I’ve released some past disheartened.
I’ve laid down the torch of so many a heavy a burden.
With understanding, never was I meant to carry another’s heavy laden.
Forever I am free to move gently forward.
While the mist easily parts, it nudges me, pushing me ever onward.
I fly above silent meadows of many a deep reflection.
Filled now with a joyous heart, I am renewed under my own self possession.
Gale Lynne
Categories:
self possession, growing up, lost love,
Form: Rhyme
Sobriety
Lucid self-possession.
Clear-headed, composed, steadied
Abstention, temperance; Carouser, lush
Staggering, tottering, gibbering.
Intoxicated high.
Drunkenness
Categories:
self possession, social,
Form: Diamante
While Lusts fever sweats out self-possession,
Haunted Passion multiplies per heartbeat
Turning cold blood hot with obsession.
Though the past has left an impression,
New Hunger hunts an old bed-sheet
While Lusts fever sweats out self-possession.
“No,” should speak an easy confession,
But loneliness pressures purity backseat
Turning cold blood hot with obsession.
Wild thoughts parade with indiscretion
Pendulum emotions erratically repeat
While Lusts fever sweats out self-possession.
Sex brews choice with oppression
Baking bitter standards so semisweet
Turning cold blood hot with obsession.
A war of feelings with no recession
Continually fight the ache to secrete,
Still, Lusts fever sweats out self-possession,
Turning cold blood hot with obsession.
Categories:
self possession, art, introspection, lost love,
Form: Villanelle
neuro syntax threads milled to ground thought flour
For half-baked mixed feelings in recipes and menus for
Successfully successive integrations of intuitive tics
And flicks of words to roll together forming notions
And ideas of knowing whether cause of foaming oceans
Rolling surfs on sands of reason bubbling suds of season
For the potherbs of deductions finished fitful reproduction
Of gravitivic mindswelling in genuflective reflective lunatics
Thus do gargantuan knots enthrall the followers of threads
Of thought who seek the wisdom of the ages from self
Possessive unprogressive sages in states of self possession
Impossible to heed but going downhill at e’er increasing speed
D’y’follow?
Categories:
self possession, confusion, introspection, on writing
Form: I do not know?