#introvert poetry

[1introvertedsage]

Modern Day Troubadour

Out of everyone I meet They've never met an introvert. Proding at the sleeping bear Who can wake the Monster first.

Rude right from the hip. Spewing poison from their lips. Of few words so they assumed I was a bitch. Got to know me and look whose minds were quick to switch.

Are we really that rare? Is that why you stare? Is there something in my hair? Or are you judging the clothes I wear?

I get so tired of the games. Engage with them and be ashamed. Most conversations feeling overly lame. Tried to explain - they can't relate to my brain. So quick to judge and can't take the same.

My turn and they tune me out. 'Cause I'm not bragging or needing false clout. Can't seem to just exist in their world Without having to open my mouth or change what I'm about. So today I'll take no more Placing my feet firm on the floor. Inside's a Lion Hear me roar. Enter stage left, Modern Day Troubadour.

~Introverted Sage~

[mianimasenpoeticus]

[stayuntilthefoglifts]

People empty me. I have to get away to refill.

Charles Bukowski

[jude-thedude98]

A Hermit Crab's Adventure

By Cocoa the Poet

When Daddy's escapades

Turn to nonstop spinning rims on escalades

The only thing I can say is

Hey! Go Daddy! Go!

Because although it warrants me when Sadsy's away

I know for sure that he is out there focused on making a change

Pocket and worldly

For everyone woman boy and girly

However they identify

My Daddy constantly tries and tries

Thats why his tears now burn his eyes

Because it seems that those before, with him

Could not get it right

So left he goes

On the March to an April flow

Watching rain fall

As the pain May go

Springing into action like a real superhero

But my Daddy is not.

No.

My Daddy is a hermit crab, and this is for his hermit crab flow

He walks sideways when others are on the road

Stumbling and fumbling because he knows not which way they are going to go.

See my Daddy has been used tenfold

Some stepped on, so e criticized, some broke

But my Daddy always puts his good foot forward and marches to his own drumroll.

So count him a master of the road

Or count him the master of highways

However you count him

Make sure you remember that he feels most comfortable in his Hermit Crab Home.

With me!

His girl, his daughter, his pup

Cocoa!

[thoughts-become-reality]

[lecineaste]

Vivre sa vie by Jean-Luc Godard

[worldlywritr]

In me, by myself, without human relationships, they are no visible lies. The limited circle is pure.

Franz Kafka

[soulinkpoetry]

Introverts want to be seen, but not by everyone, only by the people they deem capable of understanding them.

-Soulinkpoetry

The rest they keep at an arms length.

.

[literaryvein]

L. V., sometimes we don’t need to listen to the reader or the critics or the voices in our head

[i found this poem in my drafts, where it should have remained (pt. 8)]

[mystilotls]

Canary chirps, Canary cries

unable to accept its demise

Canary flinched from the corner of its eyes

4 more dead in the cage they lie

Canary squawks

while the macaw mocks

the wolves talk

the sheep watch

canary desperately hides its cough

determined to see its worth pay off

suddenly for Canary's delight

it turns to see a joyful sight

a coal miner falls to her knees

Canary dances and chirps and sings

Canary celebrates as smoke fills its lungs

satisfied, he's finally not the first one

[1introvertedsage]

Lyre, Me

Curious how the sound of you Pulls strings of my Soul I had no idea were there. Heart stings or chords What's more is more Evoking memories and moods to care. Dancing as a marionette My nerves are forced to perform.

By choice or by your will Movement inside - body still Twilight's breeze when the strings dance and sing to me. Oh Lyre, Lyre, Lyre The sound becomes my compass. Reverence or meditation Hearts know - more or less.

~I.S.~

[mianimasenpoeticus]

[sarahsinferno]

where silence drapes

like a velvet shawl over the shoulders

of ancient trees, I find my breath

in sync with the whispering leaves.

here, time drifts slowly, unburdened

by the frantic pulse of streets,

by the echo of voices that clash

like metal on metal.

the soil, rich and dark, cradles me,

its tendrils whispering secrets

of forgotten lore. I wander

beneath the canopy, a visitor

to a world that hums in a language

older than any human tongue.

the human world is a tangle of wires,

bright screens, and hurried conversations.

it is a landscape of sharp angles

and ceaseless noise, a labyrinth

with no clear center.

in the forest, I do not need to speak;

the soft murmur of the brook

and the rustling of the underbrush

are enough to soothe a restless soul.

i do not understand the need for chaos,

the unending chase for meaning

where meaning seems to scatter

like leaves before the wind.

here, under the dappled light,

beneath the stoic gaze of the oak,

I am at peace, a small part of a whole

that breathes in quiet harmony.

the human world will continue

to whirl and spin, a ceaseless storm,

but in the forest, I find a place

where the heart learns to listen,

and the mind finds stillness.

1st painting(detail): summer is icumen(summer has come) by herbert arnold oliver

oil on canvas-1902

2nd painting(detail): apollo pursuing daphne by Rene-Antoine Houasse

oil on canvas-1677

3rd painting(detail): ophelia by fredrich heyser

oil painting-before 1921

poem: rest by S.T.

[thepathetickind]

some people might say I talk a lot  but the truth is I keep everything inside 

by laurenmaerie, some people

[kentucky-cried-fricken-123]

If you find yourself lacking purpose, pick up one these hobbies:

Art: Ever since I started learning to draw, I wake up every day excited to learn the next thing. Even though I am not very good at it, it i exciting to observe references/comics/art and break it down into shapes in my mind or observe the way it has been shaded.

Reading:Decide the vibe you are most into- dark academia, horror, classics, etc. Pick an author/poet, start with their most famous work. Read, analyze, go through discussions on forums. Then pick up the next book and so on

Writing: Pick a random image on pinterest, write about it(the vibe, potential characters, maybe craft a story). Doesn't matter how good or bad your writing is. Write about your feelings from the perspective of another person. create an original character. It is a great way to vent.

Photography: You don't have to be a professional. Just take a snap of the random things you see. Capture the vibe. The moment.

[wheniseeyoucry]

I never try to convince someone to see my worth , I respect myself enough to walk away , even if it hurts. I am done tolerating bullsh*t