Best Ego Poems
As precious stones are hidden and entwined
in minerals of ordinary worth,
they must be found, professionally mined
from common, rocky layers of the earth.
Extracted, polished, cut- they'll stand apart
as valued gems. Neglected, they will share
in earth's destructive force- erosion's art-
dissolve away with nature's wear and tear.
Oh God, you are both Mine and Miner; strip
this soul embedded in your work of clay,
and let your tools of grace and fellowship
preserve the gem of Love from life's decay.
Cut many facets that reflect and show-
the worth of gem and Miner in its glow.
November 13, 2014
"Poetry is important to the writer but I feel it is all about the reader."
By Poet
Today as I open up my computer what will I see,
a contest looking back at me?
As I read the rules I must decide is this one for me,
or will it haunt me if I turn it away?
No mask needed to read the many rules,
I am only writing when the words flood my creativity.
My ego must sit upon a shelf watching,
but not a word to be whispered or said.
Win or lose I have tried my very best,
not knowing what the judge is looking for.
My purpose is to first write for my readers,
only when they love my writings do I feel I am a winner.
I keep returning to the contest page over and over,
in hopes to learn how to become a better writer.
Poetry is the language of a human poet’s heart,
mind and soul writing away.
Click, Clap, Ego Inflation
They sit behind the veil of screen
thinking cheating is a site unseen
each clap a cheer that was never earned
everyone laughs, for the spotlight is on
shining light on the fraudsters pen
vain deceit
ghostly stats floating in silent scorn
their own applause, no one cares
what is a Baker
if your bread is stale and unsold
your store is empty
a hollow soul
cheaters cheat, they never glow
Feeling catish this morning, surrounded by Zio lies and cheating is easier for me to see when happens elsewhere too, peace be upon you.
Paul
Husband of Sheila, Father of Kirsty and Paul-Mark,
Grandfather of Valentina, teacher, and friend
Son of Pauline and Nazarene, brother to six siblings:
Joseph – Angela – Carmel – Catherine – Victor – Maria Concetta
Lover of freedom, honesty, dreams, dark chocolate, nuts, red wine, and windmills
Patient and diplomatic, but like a dormant volcano is liable to erupt
Enjoys sports, swimming, walking, travelling, reading, writing, painting, and drama
Detests lies, double-faced people, wars, cheats, bullying, and vandalism
Who feels for those in need, the persecuted, and the marginalized
Who fears loss of countryside, betrayal, hate, suffering, and dementia
Who would like to see tomorrow’s dawn, peace on earth, beyond the mountain peak,
Resident of Safi village, Malta, Europe
Callus
-----------------------------------------
17th October, 2014
Contest: Bio Poems
Sponsor: Regina Riddle
Placed: 1st
The Carpenters in their time were defining,
Offered their fans so much more than more,
Uncanny that the words of this song keep returning,
For the brave Ukrainians, a heartfelt encore.
Why does the sun go on shining,
Why does the sea rush to shore?
Don't they know it's the end of the world
'Cause you don't love me anymore?
Why do people keep on sighing, God is all knowing
He is with, and loves each victim on either side,
Because of this war families are dying, HE is hurting,
That one man with ego changed a country’s tide
Why do the birds go on singing?
Why do the stars glow above?
Don't they know it's the end of the world?
It ended when I lost your love
First thing in the morning and every night
For their peace I am constantly praying,
How cruel to say goodbye to the who must fight,
Husbands, fathers, children or brothers, crying.
I wake up in the morning and I wonder
Why everything is the same as it was
I can't understand, no, I can't understand
How life goes on the way it does
So many widows, soldiers dying every day,
So many orphans from this uncalled slaughter,
Innocents whose lives have suddenly gone array,
I saw a man on the news, cradling his infant daughter.
Why does my heart go on beating?
Why do these eyes of mine cry?
Don't they know it's the end of the world?
It ended when you said goodbye
Don't they know it's the end of the world?
It ended when you said goodbye
The Ukrainians must win, no more goodbyes
Not the end of the world, but a new beginning,
For without a shadow of doubt the good guys,
Must live to record history, their pride rimming.
PS Inspired by the song sung by the Carpenters (IN ITALICS) THE END OF THE WORLD
Unfathomably vast universe. Look at me!!
Never satisfied
she passes through the night
of my dreams
demanding expression
seething
pacing
chasing
In my every lucid thought
she speaks....
I feel her presence, and I tremble
I try in vain
to keep her tame
docile
confined
within the parameters
of my world....
defined!
Oh, but she will not obey
Must have her way
her say...
she lurks
she breathes
she waits
prowling
growling...
ever ready
to pounce
and seize me unaware
she is always
always there....
Not a moment escapes
when I don't feel her near
she reveals herself...
in the words I say
in the way I sway
in the way I play
night to day
she's there
having her way
with her helpless prey
to win?
There's no way...
Elektra
is her name
domination is her game
she knows no shame
Untame...
She stakes her claim
She lives
I feel her moist breath on my cheek
I feel her hands make my weak
Her whisper in my ear...
I hear...
oh...so... clear...
"I'm Here....
waiting
waiting
waiting...
for full control
Not a part
but the whole...
I demand your soul...
SET ME FREE!"
"I would rather be on a leaky ship that is mine, than aboard a more seaworthy vessel going where I don't wish it to go"—Poet's alter ego
Yes, I know what I’m doing
I’m the master of my fate
The captain of the sinking ship
Seeking harbor in ports whether safe or rocky
With gusto I plow through uncharted frontiers
Why do I do these things to myself? you ask
Perhaps I’m a rebel in search of what's unbeknownst
to me, in search of virgin long lost horizons pristine
Horizons others deem unreachable
I’m bold, brash and yeah sassy, brassy
And irrepressible! You can’t love me you see,
I’m a Lonewolf, and it's quite fine, to be…
Untamed as the wild northern wind
Sweeping the prairies with a gusting woman’s surge
Nature's raw elements try in vain to halt my advances
But I laugh and mock at Mother's efforts
Although I’m tossed and torn
In the grips of Her relentless tempests,
Her storms of fury suppressing, oppressing
Her stern and staid demands to obey, tame and domesticate
You may say I’m the constructor of my own chaos
A free-spirit, challenging myself
My integrity intact, place not your pity on me
Respect is my hallmark and independence,
my calling.
He's got a big ego,
he keeps offending people,
he scoops the same scoop,
and round and round we loop,
until the bubble pops
and the world sees him flop,
reject the rude,
deflate your ego,
swearing kills the mood,
you able?
I'm getting too cocky,
I could outbox Ali,
wrestle with The Rock
reach the top and stop and mock,
ego full of stock
forget the tick tock
because I'm 24 7
until I get into heaven,
insomnia beckons
and amnesia threatens,
bend rhymes like Beckham,
dunk punks like Jordan,
the mental perfection
with its rhyme injection,
about to live the lesson
of the ego outstretchin'
the limit it can flex,
the crux, the critical,
I rhyme the old skool
and wear hip hop shoes,
I hate the mumble flop
with the words unused,
it's just ear abuse,
on the loose,
with no use,
it's noise with no excuse.
I suspect that this project
will impact and inflict,
sick tricks, and then retract
and evaporate back
to the gods intact,
before it's redirected
to another level head,
who wrecks and blows it,
crash the car,
went too far,
you go from feeling cool,
to a sample of your stool,
that big head
now gone and the face left red,
baking big mistakes,
taking punches from a heavyweight,
David doesn't always beat Goliath,
cometh the hour,
cometh the coffin,
you can't stimulate with coffee
because the heart stopped beating,
the soul is set free
and this world you're leaving,
beaten down with ease,
lying dead and bleeding,
how's that big ego?
You still offending people?
One hand holds but the other can't reach,
near rhymes aren't real rhymes
and sand doesn't mean a beach,
but if you find the flow,
find a way to wined the cable,
then transmit clear and stable,
and accurate like a machete
you'll rhyme like a line of spaghetti,
but with deadwood on your lead
and at ease in your bed head,
because it feels so easy with an ego,
then know it wont make a good show,
so put your feet on the ground
be aware of how the words sound,
leave behind the prima donna
or become another gonna,
stop the passive aggression,
or accept a massive regression,
fill your minds storage with knowledge
beyond the college,
there's always more to learn
and more wood to burn,
big heads remove themselves
when they burn their own shelves.
i
.
.
.
.
.
.
The ego places itself on a pedestal,
forming a personality
separate from the oneness of life.
upon reflection
the mirror lied to your face
***
"Three
stands for
Trinity-
Generator,
Operator, Destroyer - GOD. I am
the greatest number". Number three boasted.
Zero humbly
said, "I am
nothing
but
when
I am
alongside,
value goes up.
All have own uniqueness. End your ego."
February 2021
Syllable count checked at HMS
Long was my time of proudly witnessing her endless charms
ability to seed smiles and respect with Southern wiles aplenty.
Then, intrusion of quick insist, in shadowed shift, gave glimpse
of her facial expression failing her known impression and lilt.
Flash lit sad scripts and ego drips, pained my daughter pity adrift.
Each year since, our shared authentic love became more ripped as
she brazenly exposed self-loathing, clothed in superior mode and
attitude maintained by pathetic tries to admire herself in other’s eyes.
Inside-Out with all the psycho-babble.
Multifaceted melange - merry and melancholy.
My pen’s prophetic,
authentic,
inadequate.
Hazel eyes that ponder divinity:
See the world.
See God through the world.
See the people.
Empathize with earthly beings.
Fall to my knees.
Seek inspiration.
Grab it with gusto.
Don’t wait for the brain to catch up.
I observe the peculiarities in my familiar space.
I often hide behind the blinds.
Occasions, work, and friends -
push me out into the serendipitous sun and clouds.
Clench books on dusty shelves.
Throw them into a shopping cart -
they’re all free.
Attempt to organize floaters -
those iotas, that crystallize,
to form a complete thought.
Exhaustive concordance of my travels -
violets, forget-me-knots, tulips,
and fear and sorrow
The viscous web of grandiose heights -
zip lines, edge of mountains, glacier treks.
Falling...falling back on my knees.
Confident? Conceited?
A poet - that’s me.
And ideas materialize -
with family and strangers,
life and death.
The affectation of emotion, pondered.
Like a journalist, I report roller-coaster happenings.
You see, I used to merely have an emotion,
get comfortable in its chair.
Now I play with it,
craft my joy or despair.
The mirror cracks -
my reflection
as I grow wizened,
with a chromatic symphony
of mystique.
I
The Greek origins of our word for "matter," is the same for "measure" and MEASURING, as well as a few other terms that carry surprises.
First, however, there is no separate word for matter in Sanskrit, or broadly Hindu VEDANTA Philosophy. Indians and Hindus use a joint term, NAMA-RUPA or simply NAMARUPA: "name and form." As a young Hindu child in South Africa - of all places - I knew this. It was the term that stood for all REALITY - a combination of names and forms.
II
The surprises are for MATTER, its Greek origins also connect with MAYA or "illusory reality." Maya also includes the individual "ego-identity," as Indian philosophy generally sees "ego" as a temporary identity that is fluid and transient. Like an iceberg floating in an ocean, will not be a separate form of water for long.
Matter is also connected with the words METER or "metre" and MATER for mother.