Short Maturation Poems
Short Maturation Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Maturation by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Maturation by length and keyword.
primal energy coiled
like a snake sleep-
ng goddess of lov
intelligence of complete
maturation electric cur-
rents rising up we
were on the gree
n earth chantin
emotional upheavals sur-
facing repressed desir-
es boiling up spreadin
into a whole body re-
lease of massive
blisssssssss
Form:
Alone Nevertheless Isn't Being Lonely
There are variations of existing alone
And loneliness.
Finding security in Solitude, Retreat, Silence,
Peace and Quiet.
Functioning in Solitude with oneself is
Maturation.
Introspection recharging one's Soul.
Alone Nevertheless not Lonely.
[JCB Brul Contest : Scents of Autumn
FIRST PLACING : Standard Contest ]
mellow
maturation
cinnamon floats woody
musky flesh loamy depths spice-wise
mushrooms
•••
Rendered seed concealed in Love's nest
Tendered sapling fondling mother's breast
Adolescent twig fluttering with pubescent zest
Immature leaves on mating quest
Maturing frond passing coupling test
Cherished branches sprout; hearth's bough dressed
In due time, seasoned fruit; perpetuity's crest
Stale, desiccate limbs; vitality's inquest
Our own old folk
Upon this mountain were you born
To pour wisdom from the pen
As you shape Africa's theme
To reveal Africa's new brood
A million salutations you deserve
For defining our own Pattern of dust
As we climb this mountain
On which we hope to touch heaven
As we go through this maturation
Which you taught us
With your glasses on
Like your own Sebi
Whom made me his own Plato
Have you ever seen the little puppies,
Have you ever noticed how sweet and akward they are?
One puppy wants love, the second puppy wants attention,
The third puppy wants to bite the master's socks))
But every of them wants to show who the best and strongest is,
In a hierarchy of sweet and soft domestic dogs.
Mm.. love them!
P.S. devoted to my beloved dog Dars (childhood period of maturation)
dead of night draws near
and he suffers
inside the silence
the stillness
of the land
loam looming
encrypting upon his hand
bare
as his glance
a mirror mulling of a past
eyed
foreseeing a fertile future
as she comes
he pauses
in the mist of maturation
of the trees
his forest blend
bent to the cue of man
braved
he braves the hidden blue
and breathes
her scent
(“Particle in the Wave”, 2018, original encaustic)
How many midlife crises is it gonna take
To make it to maturity?
Like how a finite segment of a line
Can always be halved ad infinitum,
One’s life is always just halfway done,
And so we are always prone to midlife correction.
Bring it on we say,
As the floor falls out yet again,
But everyone knows everyone wishes
The floor would hold.
(4/1/26)
I am tasting the pristine water melted from the highest mountain up high
Dancing with the sun's rays over glazing summer's green grass
Floating with the weltering waves of a vast ocean at sunset
Riding the aborning knowledge of our next generation
Smelling the chastity of the first bud of spring bloomed with beauty and maturation
I am exploring your heart
laving your soul
sharing your thoughts
before I can love you
Form:
Aiming to be truly great,
where there is no debate.
It is a very natural instinct:
An instinct inherently innate.
We were created uniquely special.
I have come to this given realization.
This is surely a fateful maturation.
To rightly aim at this destination.
Obstacles may come in the way.
People can give their no and disdain.
Tides will bring gifts and then go away.
Part of being great, is to stay on this train.
This merciless invasion
A wolf in incubation
Deadly maturation
Mandatory isolation
Fear upon fear amplification
World-wide gargantuan
A new generation
Of lives in detention
Many made concessions
Amongst frustrations
Swilling in the stagnation
Of nature's destruction
Unmerciful predation
No retaliation
Where is salvation
On this train of extinction
Oh God help the nations
Escape this damnation
Save us from ruination
And give us resurrection
Secretly planted
a mystery seed
took root
and nurtured
crept through a darkness
knowing not
the drawing force
weaving past the obstacles
of growth
reaching for an unfelt warmth
driven by an unknown
knowing
a purpose
exposing to the world
fragile buds
protected by stoic roots
destined to explore
its deepest self
The mystery is not
in the seeds
it is in the process
growth
maturation
fulfillment
of the mystery
within the seed
John G. Lawless
8/9/2020
Without a head
There is no rudder
Worth turning,
And this is the age of headlessness.
Not so much from the guillotine
As from lobotomies
By schools and doctors, TV and social media,
Started when young from outside
But ultimately internalized
Into self-lobotomization.
This is the path of maturation today
Growing up to do what is required
To further the Greater Good
No need to even pretend to keep your head down
And eyes averted
When you have no head.
(9/11/25)