"timidity" poems
1400
What mystery pervades a well!
That water lives so far—
A neighbor from another world
Residing in a jar
Whose limit none have ever seen,
But just his lid of glass—
Like looking every time you please
In an abyss’s face!
The grass does not appear afraid,
I often wonder he
Can stand so close and look so bold
At what is awe to me.
Related somehow they may be,
The sedge stands next the sea—
Where he is floorless
And does no timidity betray
But nature is a stranger yet;
The ones that cite her most
Have never passed her haunted house,
Nor simplified her ghost.
To pity those that know her not
Is helped by the regret
That those who know her, know her less
The nearer her they get.
26.4k
this is my excavation to
the days coming along
running hands with laughter
throwing it down on the table
*straight
flush
okay, cool*
sister, these things don’t matter
when we’re twisting into the sun
with pants that are too short
the fountain rich with
iced chai
tangled with the peculiar
the beautiful
through these moments
I commend
our hearts for finding each other
love is always on the move
as sure as shoe shine
as mahogany
like timidity to relinquish
to let the universe take hold
and instill this emotion
into my body
fit it all in my heart
O, singer of love
fit it all in my heart
the knell
the reverberation
the cotton that lands
on your hair
the sunscreen stuck in my ear
we are a sketch of two travelers
sleeping under stars
the fire
finally dies down
the rapture of the universe
is overwhelming
everything flows
everyone is connected
and this music we hear
is constant
like gentle waters falling
this too, sister
makes my cane solemn
and I draw you in the sand
only to watch the tide
wash you next to me
the emotion
wrangled in English
simply means good
simply means
a full listen and
dear sister
because everything begins
and will be remembered always
as love
Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.
Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.
We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.
10.8k
2am Friends
winter has set the boundage, bars of chill, escape-urge killers,
self-imprisoned by our ruthless timidity, that both comforts yet,
worse violates our truthful, unwanted inadmissible-neediness by
purging the touches and the knowing kindage, this then,
this preface, your reminding of-as-of-yet untouched,
half-invitational, half-regret, half-cursed, whole red need for
2am friends
to fill the void that poems can n’ere fill
1/1/18
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 11:36 AM UTC
"You're so sweet!" "What a cutie!"
Is that the best you can do?
Those are defaults and fillers
I don't want to hear that from you
I want you to point out the things
That the general public don't see
The sides to me that surprise you
Normally masked by timidity
You get to see my lion
But still recognize my lamb
Tell me I'm so much more
Than strangers might think I am
There is a fervid spirit in me
But it's cloaked in a subtle attire
While the entire world calls me simple and sweet,
I need you to call me
A wildfire.
Nov 18, 2022
Nov 18, 2022 at 8:34 PM UTC
In the jungle, green and lush,
a familiar cry breaks the hush,
A sound,
Of foot falls that trample dry leaves,
Low figures strutting amongst the trees.
Then a feral cat on the prowl, for a meal,
shadowed, perched looking for a life to steal,
listens, looks, waits without a sound,
closer...closer...measuring the distance in a bound.
And it had been so long since she had hunted,
had a good feed, at the memory she grunted,
the flurry of feathers and a beak, in her face,
caused
her to recoil, reeling backwards in disgrace.
The rooster stepped to where she had been,
perching crowed loudly and just looked mean,
A speckled hen emerged, from the shrubbery
clucking with timidity,
the orphan cat skulked away in the humidity.
The rooster with white wings, black back, red comb topped head,
crowed loudly again, the rooster announced, their rights instead,
they would rather chase on foot and protect their hens,
as they are the wild chickens of Maui, without coops or pens!!
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 12:11 AM UTC
Generally, only more specific than that?
Please, if that is not too vague.
Whispering assumptions touch my face, and
cold fingers, like winter wind solidified into
ghosts and a smell that lingers in
innocent nostrils.
Enchanted by cancerous eyes that are
too much tombstone.
To fresh, the memory of decaying
melodies played by heartstrings in my innermost
love song,
I can not bare another death, another season laid to waste under
indifference, feigned or otherwise.
I could not handle another moment banished
into forgot exiles and requested reprieves from "reality."
But I grit my teeth to this
fabricated adversity,
this hypochondriac's molehill.
I will tell the devils to be silent,
to watch me grow wings,
not wings of angels or bats,
but wings of a lonely songbird who
relentlessly searches for harmony
in this dissonant world.
Oct 30, 2012
Oct 30, 2012 at 1:26 AM UTC
*Atop the emerald earth,
a bush of crimson ablaze.
Blush of sunrise.
Bruised rouge of sunset.
Kaleidescope colors of
complex designs complete.
Ahh..but for the lingering questions.
Questions that continue with the
fresh of each day...
Rita...We call to Rita!
Our ethereal selves.
She calls, We come
Into her night of dreams
Woven within her dreams of day.
We come in Our
Saintly stance.
Rita hears.
Knows Our hearts.
And so to her,
We present ourselves.
Rita feels
the plush nuance
of Our ancient wisdom.
A melding of truths
Rita knows
She is a conduit
through which the
breath of message
and knowledge exchange.
'Sine timore'
Without timidity or fear.
Imbued deep within
her Irish blood.
Gift passed from the elders.
Yet, this Lass of yore,
stands away from the podium.
Has chosen not to grandstand,
or grasp boldness too tightly.
Goodness of power is embraced
laced with enchantment.
Able to transcend The Veil,
She walks Her path.
Our winsome
Saint of Impossible Causes.*
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 7:50 PM UTC
The media has taught me
From the time I was a child
That elegance
Is all I am worth.
"Strong female characters"
Have to be encouraged
Have to be the draw of an entire series
Why can't all female characters be strong?
Womanhood is not an industry
Sexuality is not a marketing technique
My body
The flow of my waterfall hips
The curvature of how my ******* move into my waist
Does not exist for your entertainment.
Elegance is a knife in my back
Allowing the split in my spine to control me
Allowing the bloodshed of feminine timidity to cover me
I am not one to be shut down
By the jagged teeth that collapse their jaws on my tongue
I spew fire from my mouth
Not just a dark hole
Not just a lonely home
A home for a lonely voice
A lonely voice for a silent nation
A silent nation of women
Who have had their bones broken
And their wrists tied behind their backs
Forced to deep throat society's impossibly standards
For them to suppress their own sexuality
While satisfying a man's simultaneously.
Do not tell me to be elegant
Because my body exerts fury
And I will burn this place to the ground.
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
Rose of a champion
Thought, in a beautified accord
Set to waiting hours, a needs complexion
Where we are, the tale of unity to its peaceful order...
Skip, argue or define
The truth, we removed by bounty of pouts...?
Sated avarice, and the curtness of kin caught in a notorious lie...
Welcome a shadow to breath, when a harrowed eye allowed...?
Is a requited girth, of when, any of a decency's curse?
Has found me, in a live and by chastity's purpose
Handsomer skills that agree, in no known terms...
I had the taste of pride, like a reality of sin, to accuse
Why...?
No man with a tradition of sincerity, is this island commit
Without the sigh of me, the irony to dwell and seek tight
The course of another ship of fortune, that has seldom to wit:
Look, an eye of poise, if not intellects poison...
Made manifest by the only few, of bared conscience
That has us for curiosity's fool, but you, for another hero to loan
A flower of understated chaste; a victim of letters of prescience?
Tall tales of nothing more than a drunk hysteria?
Here is your mind, in my way for one more timidity...
Think and details of weal, we will know until votes ***** drama
To a reaching hour, no one above another, like acts of humanity...
Sep 4, 2022
Sep 4, 2022 at 3:17 PM UTC
Don't Test Us
Turn around and run,
Your too far out of your league.
Why you insist on fighting us,
Is a matter of intrigue.
Do you believe you're brave?
Or are you ignoring your own timidity?
Do you believe you're courageous?
Or are you convinced by your stupidity?
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 12:22 PM UTC
Main toh piya se nain laga aai re
And I saw timidity,
Like the folding of a leaf
At the touch of a dew drop.
You looked away,
And in your eyes
I smiled.
Main toh piya se nain laga aai re
And I saw anger,
Like the burning of paper
And the words on it.
You looked into my eyes,
And in yours
I couldn't see myself.
Main toh piya se nain laga aai re
And I saw forgiveness,
Like the sound of falling rain
On a heated window pane.
You looked down,
And in your eyes
I saw the ground.
Main toh piya se nain laga aai re
And I saw longing,
Like the words in my mind
Waiting to reach your pen.
You looked at my palms,
And in your eyes
I saw my tomorrow.
Main toh piya se nain laga aai re
And I saw lust,
Like butterflies in spring
Dancing in mid-air.
You looked at me,
And in your eyes
I saw wildfire.
Main toh piya se nain laga aai re
And I saw love,
Like the tears in my mother's voice
Asking me to stay awhile.
You looked into my eyes,
And in yours
I saw only myself.
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 5:25 PM UTC
Dare I, I ask,
Place light there‘pon
The glare of eyes?
Dare I disturb?
Dare I, remote,
Make time for life,
No absence moaped?
Dare I define
And be r’fined?
Timidity
Not be for me?
Dare I select
Many a dress
All for brides
Who count down time?
Dare I, dare cough
Within your cup?
Dare I, dare kiss
The tender cheek?
Dare I, for sickness
And for health,
Put off the flames
Of blithering?
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 9:34 PM UTC
Faint-hearted.
Have always been afraid to fail
Scared that what might happen could be something unwanted,
Anchored on the shore not wanting to sail.
Emotional.
A slightly rude word could crush the heart,
Always upset, treating everything as fatal,
Easily feel hurt.
Perfectionist.
Too much attention on a very little thing,
Obsessed of perfection,
Ending up missing to see the bigger picture.
Timidity.
Too shy to speak up,
Doesn't want to get others attention,
So everything was kept hidden inside.
Love.
Wanting to make everyone happy by showing affection,
Trying hard not to hurt anyone,
Ended up making self-sacrifice actions.
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 10:21 AM UTC
Ambivalence sat in a corner staring off into space
as Antipathy tried so very hard to keep up with the pace
Cruelty crept up behind
to pinch them one by one
while Greed badgered them all
to be a part of the fun
Lust writhed upon its chair
and licked its lips upon a grin
Timidity cringed against the wall
bombarded by thoughts
of touching unholy sin
Narcissism saw no one else
while Awareness saw them all
When Love walked in
to join the group
the walls began to fall....
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 6:52 AM UTC
maelstrom meltdown on Third Avenue
<•>
the crushing came from nowhere external,
walking calm, southbound on Third Avenue, 7:00am,
found myself lost, slumped up against an unopened bank
copious weeping an acceptable addition to the malignant,
maelstrom meltdown turmoil, turbulence,
such tumult that weighed so-heavy that my disordered confusion recognized no boundaries of shame,
all chaos fission fussing into fusion
new friends, passerby's all, asking, even pleading,
offering water, coffee, solace with milk, counseling kindness,
the inexplicity, thereof, a suited man, so normally workbound;
the timidity, to inquire what's wrong, fearful of an answer's danger,
the enormity, thereof, worse, the hollowness of any responsive words
there lay I, till the police asked me to move along
or be arrested; I moved on for was I not already arrested?
my vortex, center of a swirling eddy,
a wind whipped maelstrom whirlpool,
shortly to consumed, bedlam no more, and the blood in me revererbrates that mournful prayer music of my child that cohabits,
never departs or wavers,
n'ere ceases or changes,
Les Miserables
"Bring Him Home"
supplanting the desperation of a living sin,
mine own breathing sounds
as I said,
the crushing came from nowhere external
<•>
for Steve and Tonya
Jul 16, 2017
Jul 16, 2017 at 2:04 PM UTC
In one of those uncertain places
with the sunlight holding me in her arms
I drifted, wandering, looking for me
without him
Remembering my father’s
visit on the ceiling of my room
to tell me that my philosophies are true
the weight of his spirit lifted my lungs
To inhale, and more importantly
exhale
to let it go
oppression, fear and timidity go
Drifting, more drifting
the sun nudged my eyes open
to receive this gift she offered me
suspended in air, transforming all things
Sweeping in from the east
wings open wide, effortless sailing
towards my skyscraper window
we stilled the dust, stilled the blinking
As her shadow passed over and
her eyes flew into-becoming my soul
this is how it feels when your
totem animal is revealed
and your spirit is outside of your body
touching and not touching the ground
each step you take guided by her,
a white cane for your sightless eyes
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 12:45 PM UTC
Main toh piya se nain laga aai re
And I saw timidity,
Like the folding of a leaf
At the touch of a dew drop.
You looked away,
And in your eyes
I smiled.
Main toh piya se nain laga aai re
And I saw anger,
Like the burning of paper
And the words on it.
You looked into my eyes,
And in yours
I couldn't see myself.
Main toh piya se nain laga aai re
And I saw forgiveness,
Like the sound of falling rain
On a heated window pane.
You looked down,
And in your eyes
I saw the ground.
Main toh piya se nain laga aai re
And I saw longing,
Like the words in my mind
Waiting to reach your pen.
You looked at my palms,
And in your eyes
I saw my tomorrow.
Main toh piya se nain laga aai re
And I saw lust,
Like butterflies in spring
Dancing in mid-air.
You looked at me,
And in your eyes
I saw wildfire.
Main toh piya se nain laga aai re
And I saw love,
Like the tears in my mother's voice
Asking me to stay awhile.
You looked into my eyes,
And in yours
I saw only myself.
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 5:23 PM UTC
She steps into the room,
Timidity and grace;
Innocence and caution synchronized.
She feels you watching her
And quickly turns away-
But it's too late,
She's been defiled by your eyes.
She's just another pretty girl
On whom to feast your eyes-
Another helpless victim to your gaze.
It doesn't matter what she wears,
It doesn't matter what she hides-
The second you set eyes on her,
She becomes your latest prey.
A slave to your senses,
You mother ******* perv!
I hate you and all your twisted ways.
A ******* of duplicity-
A ravenous, worthless curr-
Twisted in your soul
And ****** up in your brain!
'Cause you've got X-ray vision,
And you **** her with your mind;
Defile her with your very gaze.
You strip her down and play with her,
Debauched within your mind;
Violated, objectified, debased.
Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 2:47 AM UTC
We tied a knot in heaven
and left it there
suspended in the air
unaware of the care that lent there
we stare, bare of emotions
for those we sent there
prematurely
surely it was god’s plan
between that ISIS and
the American man’s man
but wait
I don’t rate the
Wests lack of responsibility
they attest not to the culpability
and without an ounce of timidity
suggest that their
interactions are near
the vicinity of humility
when really Iraq
was left gutted like a
listless fish
to be added to the list
of countries
America and Britain not great
Felt the need to mend
not with gentle hands
but with the bayonets hate.
left without infrastructure
a poor suture on
a shambling wreck
Iraq limped on
to suppurate into civil war
which we condemn and abhor
but somehow haven’t the
nous to implore that we have been here before
The imperialist shadow looms like
a hound, as we espouse civility;
Irony abound.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 7:15 PM UTC
I should’ve known the way you warmed your palms
against my back that you would kiss me, but at least your trembling
lips covered the hesitancy of mine, tortured into timidity
by the guy who pushed himself into me demanding
that I like it. You touched me with a reverence I didn’t deserve
as I remained tangled in reservations of certain caresses, positions,
and the possible suggestion of *** in my bed. You nestled your chin
in the curve of my neck instead and while you slept on the prospect
of contentment, I cried for trust you would expect from me, a wrecked
reject **** victim who believed that maybe she was a tease who would continue to displease any man willing to lay her. I made you leave
when I saw the sun’s rays, but relief didn’t stay behind.
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 6:18 PM UTC
Refined, I'm sweating gasoline
Set myself ablaze
Just to light the cigarette of my dreams
My natural state has changed
But hasn't stopped getting in my way
Takes a drink to strike an ember
Stagnant black glowing amber
Cooking my assumptions with timidity
Chaotic pieces tempered into
Wavering unpredictability
Directionless enmity
Enemies at wind
Cooled to harden
Forced to torch again
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 12:44 AM UTC
Hey.
I'm sitting here writing poetry
Because I can't stop thinking
About you, and only you.
The way you walk, your shy
Smile, your complete assurance
With your friends, your gaze.
I don't understand how we can
Be so different, and yet the same.
You're such a gentleman.
You're good at writing, but not
As I am. You write poor poetry,
But I can't stop writing poems.
I can't stop writing poems about
You, even if no one but me will
Ever read them. It's strange.
Lately, you're always in my head,
And there's nothing I can do
That will ever change that focus.
You're kind to every girl, but I
Hope you act different towards
Me. It's probably a foolish dream.
You are a bright spot in every day,
But I wonder if I am more than a
Meaningless, hazy face in the crowd.
Today, I confessed to more friends
My feelings for you. But I still turned
That blasted shade of red and stuttered.
I need to get over this insecurity and
Timidity. I rationalize with myself that
What I feel isn't as deep as it really is.
My heart blazes with sheltered emotions,
Of pathways thought just out of reach, but
May not always be unreachable, I hope.
Well, I don't think you'll ever read this,
And you probably won't hear this, but
To you I still say tender, forbidden words:
I love you.
© 3/25/13
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 8:29 PM UTC
-*If I were ***** who would I choose?*
The lovely Edmund treated her kind
Indeed, kind he was in her mind
He was protective of her
His words were of comfort
She doted on him so much
That seeing him with another depressed her
The charming Henry grew fond of her
On her gentleness and modesty he dwelled
In her modest and elegant manners, he found charm
There was a sweetness to her which felt warm
And Henry was seduced by such gentleness
He found her timidity so delightful
That for her, he harboured feelings so soon
Yet in Fanny’s innocent eyes
Crawford’s flirtations led to his own demise
Not indifferent to what seemed to be sincere efforts
He forcing his love on her however proved just worse
She was too much convinced of his pretence
In his endeavour, she found not grace but nonsense
His unsteadiness
Her ineffable kindness
They were too much different
On such belief, she wouldn’t be bent
On the other hand
There stood Edmund, oh dear Edmund
He cared about her so deeply
But his attachment was merely brotherly
Knowing such truth saddened her immensely
Yet she’d rather be with him as a sister
Than not be with him at all
He was too virtuous to be deceived
The goodness of her heart dictated to choose none
Poor Edmund was blinded by Mary’s doings
As calculated as they were, they promised sufferings
Edmund could think of no woman but Mary to be his wife
His idea of her was exceedingly flattering; what a plight
A hurt ***** could not change his mind
Her unwavering support never left his side
And the proud Henry Crawford
What to say of his ardent courtship?
At some point, vulnerable ***** could fall for him
But she never did, not even once
He changed for her in manners and words
But to defy one’s true nature would be to lie to oneself
Temptations so strong
In the presence of an interested Mrs Rushworth
Needless to say; his true colours showed, infidelity ensued
In the end, who to choose?
If I were in Fanny’s shoes
It certainly wouldn’t be Henry
Such a **** doesn’t deserve a pure soul like *****
Though I don’t doubt that he truly fell for her
He ruined all chances of being with her
His incessant words of love were received with pain
He tried to win her affection in vain
But to try to gain a girl’s heart with flowery talks
This is an unwise move, it is too much
Thank God, Edmund realised his error in the end
But can he redeem himself when he showed so poor a judgement?
I doubt so; and I dare question his change of heart
His infatuation for Mary faded, and his love for ***** grew so fast
Does it even make sense to have one’s eyes opened that fast?
I dare answer in the negative
This said, none of them deserve *****
If I were ***** I’d choose none...
-15/05/10
May 15, 2010
May 15, 2010 at 7:11 AM UTC