Introspective poems bring the best collection of short and long introspective poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great introspective rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these introspective poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on introspective are here for you.
the pulsating ache of flogging after internal cave-in, a goldfish gets smeared with sperm, unclosing, opening a slaughtered canal for the drooping roses under the black wings of shame when in our translucency we were generously distributing arms to legless
With my scrunched and bushy furrowed brow I often ponder the precise circumstances any thing to be born Tracing back lineage of self or arbitrary individual unpredictable as the Dow Reckoning a series of events sustained life similar to sowing
When darkness dampens your devotion, The will is there but devoid of emotion; Remember to hold your head high And kiss every violent wind which passes by. That violent wind takes you to places unknown, Places of future palaces and
Curtain call yet once again. Time to track the boards. Greasepaint hides the shameful faces. Lime-lit shadow-play, Pantomime dames, Evil stepmothers, Monsters behind The innocent eyes That focus on the fool. So I enter the game; It’s the only one
I shall like to live my life as a Promethean poem And steal to earth God’s most sacred fire from heaven! Which prosody, a psalm of echoes in efflorescence; Which beauty, its raison d’être, the extant of essence; Which truth,
i get tired of the people red yellow black white you are precious but not mine i dont know the people you’re young are you married you’re old is there passion what is your preferred toothpaste rich or poor, can
Loneliness is what I call the monster that hides in the corner. Waiting for that moment to strike. Staring at me with those glaring eyes. Those glaring eyes that are the only eyes that can actually see my soul. They
Anger turns you away Holding that poison within your mind Your body and soul consumes you It diminishes your aura like acid And you allow this person to always be a factor To be the bigger person you have to
Turn on the flame Start with a smile Wait a while Stir it with fun Crack a joke Tickle a hearty laugh Whisk action One hug Few whispers Some touch Strawberry kisses Sprinkle a dash of perfume Cover on a
It starts with a smile, Makes your world freeze for a while. It gives butterflies in your stomach, Makes your dictionary void of IFs and BUTs. It converts days into night and nights into day, Makes you dream cold in
When you have A personal relationship with GOD, you have inner PEACE, That no one can shake, And evil can’t over take. There’s PEACE, JOY, LOVE That you have received, As GIFTS from his LOVE, And only comes from GOD
The scenes of human sufferings Are more apparent in the world Than all the boastful shows Of power,riches and pelf . We see a few rolling in wealth, While millions in penury and want suffer The rich inventing new ways
Roses are for the soul, giving peace and poise to one and all. Colours and hues so charming , their enchantment is undeniably heart-warming. ‘Roses’ word full of fragrances, delight to the soul and freshens one’s senses. Awesome flowers having
The moment tasted like a paradise, The moment you were in, Seventh sky I was on, The moment of the touch of your skin. Heavens are beautiful, you are more, Angels are there, I adore, You’re their queen, you’re worth,
It’s now sin sorry Sunday, you don’t look so swell, look in the mirror, look like hell, start thinking, I’m sick of living this way, I’m steadily getting older each and every day. I go out looking for a good
Faces on the wall… Are images of the mind! Formed by faithless moments – And of still born movements. Flutter of the breeze, In the silence of stiff leaves… All seems like a faded horizon, But still holding on to
Chastened by expectations. Seasoned by trial. All journeys begin the same. Roads diverge, yet all end at the same destination. Experiences vary, stories differ. But the results the same. Progress occurs by the nectar left behind. In this way, the
I, the most perfect syllable in the world. It encapsulates me and all that is mine And all that I perceive or have perceived, All that I encountered or experienced, the Totality of my existence and its meaning To me
He is an old man now, no longer tall, Shoulders hang, stoop low, as does his head. Hair is sparse, hardly covers his scalp, Teeth are worn, loose, and faintly yellow. Legs once firm and straight, now bowed and shaky.
It keeps raining everything has become damp, I can feel the mist inside my head. Wooden doors don’t close anymore, windows don’t shut to keep the water out, I feel like drowning in this flood, and it keeps raining still….
I can’t name things. I can’t tell, with some mighty confidence, this is this or that is that. You tell me of love. but, I have known too many loves. blue love, green love, red love, even yellow love. I
Quiet stillness Like the whole world is waiting for something Holding its breath in anticipation As the sun breaks through The once sleepy sky The day waits to begin Until just the right moment When the universe is ready To
Sometimes she whispers in my ear, a tapestry of pain and fear whose warp and weft weave haunted days and nightmare dreams through woeful sobs and blooded screams; till phantoms from a private hell enshroud me in a chilling spell.
At the cross-roads I stand I ask myself to answer my questions, My ever lingering past and my evanescent future, I stand at the cross roads looking at the beautiful sunset in anticipation of a beautiful sunrise. At the cross-roads
Death; The Dealer of the final deck of life. No hidden agendas, just a cold slate to wipe. With hand and sword or with rock and stone, with shaft sailing deadly through grey skies, alone. The smarter the weapon, the
All braced to face the day, The diurnal engine ignited, Gently revving up, Barging into the quietude Of the colony, With a daily prayer escaping His mumbling lips, As he steered mildly Into the road, To see a car pulled
Some day this curse will fade and break away, No more pain, no more tears, no more hiding from this place. Just putting first myself rather than the rest of you, Who have hurt me instead. Please let me go,
I’m but an Autumn Leaf , Twirling, swirling with winds I play And oft stirred by a squirrel’s feet , The crowning glory now lost and sway All my greens are now russets, yellows, Rambling, roving in golden meadows I sing soft songs
Trampling the borders, he started losing his vibrations. He was asking for the perpetual forgiveness for his bandaged ego. The new incarnation. For the broken homes he refused to admit his side of guilt and jumped into the frozen lake
It has been raining I stood on the window Looking at the rain drops Silently tip toeing at moments Restlessly pouring at times I looked at the clouds As if walking hand in hand Like lovers lost, like frienjds found
Unpredictable winds swimming all around Relentless in their dance, boisterous and proud Clashing flashes of lights and booming invisible drums Gray painted skies draped in deep purple plums Ballooning over head, swelling ready to burst Parched fields of green awaiting
Wheels are in motion again – clank clank ! The gypsy in me is packing up, unsettling the settled. Starting afresh, no want for hope. No desire for sorrow, subdued is the word. Put my books in a box, pack