"introspectively" poems
craving intellect rain of thoughts
surroundings filled with serenity
recalling life introspectively
respective to the cores and layers of earth
positive energy and abstract propane reflection
vibrations of a hero
self-consciousness reaches selflessness
victory at the palm of his hands
grace as the structure of his body
windows of his soul as bright as the healing moon
he listens.. to the creator that never slumbers
freedom released the light worker in him
peace and blessings were a product of his faith
remincsement of the reluctant wisdom power
self-motivation inspired in his final hour
mind is as grey as the trees' shades
confort inn beginning of purity's blades
life begins. . .
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 9:11 AM UTC
Behind my sternum, exists a void.
Made long ago on this voyage.
Trail and error; attempting remedies
From school, to art, to melodies
Continue to spirits, and Buddha
All these attempts: futile
Confusion, anger, melancholy
They say, "look in to find it's seed"
But how would they react
If they heard what I retract.
That I've looked introspectively,
From sphenoid to chest cavity
And found nothing but a void
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
I'm not going to lie, I wish I was smoother
I wish I could maneuver my hands over her body to soothe her and use my words to woo her
But sadly I'm just another shy loser
An introverted introvert introspectively interested in what exactly the thing in her chest cavity is
A pessimist would say a broken heart turned winter cold
An optimist would say a heart more valuable than gold
A realist would say the main ***** that lets humans survive
but I would say its a home and where her love strives
and amazingly its three stories high with a fresh cut lawn and flowers reaching toward the sky
painted bright white like the fire burning inside mine but somehow I'm still alive
You see it's sad but its funny my house has all fallen down
A girl tried to spark a flame but burned me from the inside out
So I cough up these dark smoke clouds from my charred lungs
While I trip over words from my swollen tongue that was once stung by the bumblebee of love
So I hide from the flame in a bathtub full of shyness
because you can't see but behind this image of a nice smile and dark green eyes
lies a guy who's confidence was shot down and slowly but surely died
And believe me I tried I tired to dig the body up but I got about 3 feet deep
before I grew tired and crawled back into her sheets
Its like every step forward and there's a bear trap but I swear I'll never turn back
Because its love it makes you dumb its love it makes you so stupid
and I'm not sure if there's a God but I'm sure as hell there is a Cupid
I'll be whatever you want me to be just tell me and I'll do it
You probably don't like me very much I said hello and I blew it
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 2:40 PM UTC
<>
11:03 Sun Sep 20 2020
2nd Day Rosh Hashana 5781
S.I., N.Y.
**when I was twenty years younger, I wrote oft introspectively,
nowadays, today, provoked by the High Holy Day, the New Year,**
it is my only filter, lens, and this solitary perspective that this moment affords, permits, demands, commands, insists on,
prepared by this confession, so that I may better return to the union of my divine spark, unify body and soul, recover my true self,
by acknowledging that I am
not beholden to anyone,
therefore, thereby,
beholden to everyone
how inconsistently wonderful that additional experience, alive in a time of upheavals, pushes me past the first stanza, where most often, my poems, prayers, go to rest uneasy, incomplete, only to be buried alive in me.
Yet, here I am stuttering, sputtering, words that come unexpectedly!
I have reached a second stanza, with the ending well sighted, nearby. The collective, overlaid wake of each passing boat, finger pointing, a road line for following, to a larger directive, a river emptying into a great ocean, birthplace & graveyard
premature celebration as it’s weeks till I return to this poem-in-progress on a bleak week, the winterized grays have dominated, the freshness of sunlight is just an occasional peekaboo.
The larger directive now suppressed, the pilings of damp brown leaves, multi-message; funeral. mounds of good days gone to hell, the inward perspective has returned me to a deep, dark place.
(Stutter, stutter, each day asseverates solemnly with tinges of rancor, no, no, no, still no answers yet, the second and third stanzas are ******** suns of no man.)
Dec 19, 2020
Dec 19, 2020 at 9:42 AM UTC
A sheer pink lip balm
A harsh light bulb-lit reflection
Deep, tired, dark circles
That outermost omnipresent aloofness
Dark 00's and midriff
The cold, 6:00 am, hollow and dim living room
Seriously demeaning and only aware introspectively
Noble-felt, harshly observed silence
First, the summit most deeply craved and sensually submissive to
Clarity and optimism
Motivation and kindness
But impending soon after
A permanent loneliness, soullessness, sadness and a vast emptiness
The every day conscience
Hours spent absorbing the stillest silence possible
Not being able to think full thoughts or talk to oneself
All that's distinguished is feeling paralyzed in the mind
Harsh bathroom lights
Loud, rough water filling the bathtub
Staring as the repetitive breathing moves the water line back then forth
Up then down
Slow moving and eerily melancholy
Continues
2 am... 3 am... 4 am...
Physically exhausted and still
Lethargic bones
Mentally continuous, even rapid, and imaginative
Consisting of only slightly heavy, controlled breaths and an idled pause
Everything is paused except the mind
The body goes without
Naturally retracting from the mind
Counting the minutes until the alarm goes off
Arises to feel disoriented
Resolves with more
A light-dark shimmer and brown boots
Perfectly placed lips
A sharp nose and a sunken aura
That craving, comfortable normal attained
It all resurfaces
The smell of that time
The mentally formed associations
Cold like the winter, early mornings and the fluorescent light
Cigarettes like the emptiness, somber, bitterness and silence
Oppressive but so liberating
Depressive but so enthralling
It smells malignity pleasure-filled
A sheer pink lip balm
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 3:58 AM UTC
There are no bad people and there
Are no bad things and the
Music's always playing, always ringing, always singing
Cos the music that surrounds you, penetrates you, lacerates you
Is no different from the substance of your being,
All vibrations merely differentiated unities
You are gliding through that energy field
And consciously! How strange indeed
You're a kaleidoscopic porthole into
All that can ever be
You keep moving through time,
Accidentally rhyming, caught up in the games of the intellect
And introspectively, you can't believe what your
Mind tells you you are
Because you are and you aren't
There's not one true way to know it
If a word could capture what you are,
Then it wouldn't be true
Because the thought and spoken word
Is skewed so distant from the root
But the word is just a path to understanding what the source could be
A way to help the others see
What's going on at the edges of the galaxy
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 9:31 PM UTC
ya feel love?
take a walk outside
the suns not out but that's
alright
leave it all behind and breathe
this is not the life you envisioned
but there's love in everybody
so create the remedy of peace and
harmony
ya feel love?
the place I'm from is full of
sunshine and ******** I call
memories that filled my veins
running within and without me
introspectively I place myself
in front of a mirror
displace my body from my entire being
including the future
yet still feeling love around me
ya feel love?
I realize I was always free to begin with
I'm leaving all the emotions that fill
the air that I breathe
and I gaze into the sky
because maybe I could believe
that it's possible to be the change
and create love
let it be as rough
as the tides take when your heads underwater rushing
into my lungs
ya feel love?
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 8:02 PM UTC
the sun does not always shine on our lives so we
can bask in the rays of ultraviolet light beams. but
somewhere else in the world, the sun
is shining when the sun cannot be visible
in our light. The moon sacrifices itself for the sun
introspectively and mends a constitution of
unity and seizing the battles the sun faced with the moon.
the moon sacrifices itself to let the sun in to warm up
the world during the day. The moon desperately loves the sun.
even on our cloudiest of days someone is looking to the sky and seeing
the same sun, in the fellowship of unity of the world, the sun’s
always somewhere.
c.a.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 8:26 AM UTC
God has looked into my heart,
Not at it, but into my heart —
Introspectively,
Microscopically,
Spirtual-scopically...
That lumpy piece of flesh,
holding all my fears, snears, cheers, and revears:
The terror of that lone gunman lurking nearby, forcing a town and the State to ransom for a “new world order.”
The criticisms of others...
Accomplishments in life you held as a goal, not sure if you’d ever bring into the fol’.
And my eternal hope, alarming me when I feel I can’t cope...
Essential to keep me alive,
Essential for me to thrive,
And arrive into my ‘be-ing’.
But it is a bumpy piece of flesh,
Scared with wounds,
Pushed and prodded,
Pumped and plodded
in life, with life
And through life...
“Oh, my heart...”
Sep 27, 2025
Sep 27, 2025 at 3:05 PM UTC
I'll take this space
adequately filled
with no one
And I'll drown it
introspectively
with ire
Conspicuous
consumption of
high regard
of breathless absence
and your presence
so willful
straining against
flitting away
from here
Nov 19, 2021
Nov 19, 2021 at 10:39 PM UTC
in its solitude
a rose silently wilts
with ostensible vision
the skulls watch with lifeless eyes
the paper on which they both decay pays no mind
ever stead fast they become something they never anticipated
that being
dead and lifeless to the ones they left behind
begging a curious eyes attention to the direction of their new story
peering introspectively at their fragile
yet striking forms
they question to no truth
the rose will darken a heart and rot
as its their nature
the skull will turn a blind eye and to dust
as is its nature
and the paper will still pay no mind
because in that moment of its weakness
the history of their decaying shells are wiped from its canvas
immortalized in forgotten words
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 3:26 AM UTC
I am introspectively stuck staring into the glass
and with pangs of question in my heart
why does this face look so familiar
have I become the liar
or am I darker
cast shout into the void
I have become dangerously poised
yet regardless of how long it will take you
you're fearful to live a life comfortable with the noise
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 6:59 PM UTC
Quiet solitude
is freedom
from others' demands,
is freedom
from the noises of the world.
In quiet solitude
I can focus introspectively
on my emotions and thoughts,
becoming more self-aware,
and discovering
how to improve my mind-functioning
towards optimal joy and happiness.
Jul 23, 2019
Jul 23, 2019 at 4:09 AM UTC
Like the deep, slow, hum of many voices, I hear it.
Softly crying in the darkness I have encased it in.
A sliver of my true soul, I cannot help but fear it,
It whispers to me a ballad sweet, on my forehead written…
“This was never the real you, your decay is not complete.”
For you, the one who cares, I have a confession.
I, a man of fear and sorrow, my heart drips black.
My sight bleeds gray, as I witness my reflection.
A gaunt sentinel of hopelessness, it stares back…
Smiling all the time.
Underneath the grim and slimy casing, my heart beats a song.
One slow note in rhythm, its message is clear.
To my knees I slide in the silence, no longer strong.
Exhaustion, chills ripple through the atmosphere…
As I fall through the floor, into another world.
My angel before me stands, his glowing saber drawn.
His radiant figure defending against the shadow,
Against the black animal that prowls beyond,
Its milky eyes fixated on where it wants to go…
Staring deep into my chest, at the cage it used to call home.
The shady hellcat lunges, as I sit staring.
My defender parries mightily, but in vain.
The lion turns to face me, ****** fangs barring.
As the sword fades next to the slain…
As my vision recedes to black.
Lucid again, I sit introspectively in the dim space.
My Father beside me sits, laying a hand on my knee.
“I showed you this for a reason, do not lose face.
You alone can choose, my child, and so hear my plea:
Your actions have consequences in this war for your soul.
Please weigh your actions carefully, salvation is the goal."
Apr 7, 2020
Apr 7, 2020 at 6:22 PM UTC
and so you fell away introspectively
a cough and a cold shoulder
forehead press, and no kiss.
going forward half sincerely
the wet and one note weather
bed head stunned, enter no forgiveness.
Oct 22, 2021
Oct 22, 2021 at 12:51 AM UTC