Short Your Own Making Poems

In prison,
of my own making,
I am unable to do what I can,
I stay still while I can dash and run....

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Truth often is in
“the eyes….”
My truth and your
truth—vs, God’s Truth:
we are born lies
of our own making.
Free Will not
a choice—but a
maker of worlds
and its peoples....

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Azure skies with periwinkle glitters.
Saturate unforeseen element
Changing the forest into something all-knowing.
An entity of her own making.
Creation onto her creature self.
Howling approval begins
In the form of an owl’s hoot and windstorm....

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central to my life are lies
told to myself in the darkest night
meant to protect me from the beasts that abound
truth has become elusive
something I can't see in poor light
trapped in a prison of my own making
I long for the sun-the dawn breaking...

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Dark ferality
slow strangulation
spiralling desire
shrouding us in fear
of our own making

No cure in sight
we slip in gloom
shadows seem real
noose around neck

In stillness 
we embrace
love divine

Presence
then feels

Bliss

05-October-2020...

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hit rock bottom
fell into a whole 
of one's own making 
created from years 
of mistakes that 
have pilled up 
atop one another 
creating an emotional 
cave in creating a
grand canyon sized 
whole to be constructed 
within the land of 
the past self's missteps...

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See no truth,
Hear no truth,
Speak no truth.
Follow the leader.
Don’t look to either side
Or you might see
In the mirror
Of your own making
Your cowardice,
distortions, self-absorption,
lies, and poor judgment.
Keep the blinders on.
Follow the leader
over the cliff....

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Not once did I note, 
That the circumstances were of my own delineation,
Strapped in chains of my own making,
Entangled in a web of my own creation,
Incarcerated in a volary of my own making,
Now in the air casting castles of liberation,
Which I know too well may never come into being....

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Your transparency is like black paint 
Shrouded in silence and deceit 
Hiding in shadows of your own making 
But I see through your dark retreat
You cannot fool me with your lies 
Nor blind me with your fake allure 
Your transparency is like black paint 
But I have the solvent of truth...

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She is laid to rest
In a nest
Not of her own making
Her eyes are closed
She knows nothing, reposed
Disposed
Of collective unconsciousness
She is sans work
Or waiting
She is surrounded by her visions
Both haunted and healing
She dreams
And her life is lost in the land of brain waves...

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I fly in the sky 
With abandon 
Wings spread soaring 
On thunderheads exploring.

Content to be free
Knowing the risk
Of natures hard and cruel ways
Than to be held prisoner
Safe from winters winds
In a gilded cage
Of my own making.




























....

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That creature that walks inside your soul
has become a house cat,
but beasts are beasts after all.

Before the fall and rise
there was just a middle moment
when we were only bewildered angels.

We are still within a puzzle of our own making,
but God is infinitely patient
and She has a long leash....

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A critic of my own making 
True throughout history
Thousands of hours spent 
Turning rhyme into reason

A thought, an idea
Spreading like wild fire
Individually unique 
The wisest of words remembered 

Rereading hundreds of pages
Reliving memories of long ago
Washing away emotions
Within the pages of history...

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In my cubical I sit 
Strapped to perform the task for which I’ve been programmed
Molded to their way of thinking

In my cubical I sit 
Twist tied in place behind this acrylic screen
A window to those who consume others like me

So we sit in our air tight cubicles
performing task not of our own making

By Robb A. Kopp...

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I got what I deserve
a third rate circumstance
of my own making.

Over the decades
I've downgraded a few times
tossed the good ones aside
and swallowed the rotten.
Now I dream in burlap.
and wear jester boots.

It's too late, I've made my bed 
to late to upgrade
the pitch is to steep.
That's why 
karma 
snarls
at
me....

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Beauty Lies

Beauty lies in the eyes,
Of the beholder,
People find beauty,
In the places they look,
Beauty is a thing of the mind;
It is not pre-determined,
One man's food,
Is another man's poison,
It's your mind,
That has to be contented,
You find beauty,
In the manner you want,
The concept of beauty,
Is your own making....

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To be a psychopath,
No feelings to react to no love to feel
God of your own making
King of your own world
All my pain lost
But i feel all the pain you served to my soul
And no filter, no control
If karma exist i hope you never feel the way i do
tell me this is not love
I am the man that hopes for your happiness
While losing my own...

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It really matters how you are facing
When using your sight you are gazing

Towards the light on the horizon staking
Within your heart emotions are shaking 

At the crossroads of light and darkness breaking
There is a moment of life’s suddenly relating

The twilight of life or the sunrise of new creating
Is entirely a product of your own making...

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My
journey
to the stars
is hindered by the weight
of the not so light years.
Filled with fortunate tragedies,
met with
peevish and sullen
greetings
in a wasteland of my own making.
Spiraling self-inflected
torment
lifts me up through
the universal darkness
to an uncertain end.
There I will wait for you,
kept company
by many
a good
friend....

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He sought The Light of the World
an ancient quest,
yet was easily distracted,
too inclined to dally
with shadows of his own making.

He still sought.
It was his only way out
while still here.

One early morning,
too weary to even think
his mind turned-off
its self-seeking flashlight.

"My God” he thought,
“I have gone spiritually blind!"

Then of a sudden, he began to shine....

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Falling swiftly
off a cliff
of my own making

A tower
of lies
deception
stupidity

Love
builds up
higher
and higher

until it all comes
toppling down

you with it

A crumbling world
another color
turned to
gray

I close my eyes
and wait
to hit the ground

Then I’ll be able
to rebuild again

and maybe this time
with a stable foundation
it won’t all
come crashing down....

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Confused by the cacophonous voices in my head,
Reason has been replaced with paranoia.
Alarmed by my self-destructive tendencies I am restrained,
Zipped into a strait-jacket of my own making.
Yielding to the voices clamor, I surrender myself to insanity.

9/2/13
For Andrea's 5 Letter Word acrostic contest

(This is a work of fiction! I don't hear voices and I
am not self-destructive. Just so you know)...

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Entangled in a web of my own making,
Wrapped in arteries and veins forsaking
Their true purpose to enrich my heart,
These like pulsing vines tearing me apart
I cry out in bitterest anguish for my life,
Possessed in these last moments of strife
Free me from these strangling, barred jails,
And let me embark anew in billowing sails.

written December 9, 2021
for prompt in All-Poetry contest...

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you invited to the party
telling me to sweetly sing
you offered nonchalance
offering snide remarks
valour was not your end game
You rode on your proverbial chariot
telling me of your mental prowess

Drinking your iron lead,
in the dark
you shared your primordial ghosts
your lips didn't speak the truth
and you said let it be done
blowing out all the candles
to enliven the gloom
of your own making...

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there they sit
with their dreams
and fantasies
mouthing great
philosophies
narrating great tales
of imagined achievements,
revealing little nuggets
of despair couched
in a fatalism
of their own making.
Should I reveal myself
jolt them to the reality
of death
put an end to their charade

Or slither away 
in the susurration
of wind and grass
leaving them 
to their random ramblings
in their dotage?...

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