Best Full Of Himself Poems
help mrs. muse is gone and my mind is shooting blanks
my friend called inspiration is trying to walk the plank
motivation just married mr lazy
and confidence started acting really crazy
cousin common sense is on vacation out of town
and aunt intelligence is nowhere to be found
uncle rational is at the casino gambling his life away
and my best friend happiness never wants to stay
my neighbor opportunity doesnt knock on my door anymore
and my girlfriend love is really just a whore
my partner pride is always full of himself
and sister sympathy is busy with someone else
grandpa wisdom is smart enough not to say a word
and grandma compassion is seen but never heard
the only friends that ever come to town
is anger and disgust and they always hang around
my high school sweat heart infatuation doesnt really call
and my childhood friend imagination doesnt exist at all
Life is a bastard son, prodding the fertile horizon
poking into places tender, tearing the expanse of dawn
he taunts, rude and bellicose, so full of himself
spewing into the weakest streams, a wet dream.
With platitudes he prances, son of a fearsome father
promising eternity, singing a lover's song of praise.
Light bearer, holder of the golden scalpel, night cutter
leaving glare where softness once held sway.
May the abyss, the gentle dark, the yin forgive you..son.
From the pear-shaped loins of sister Eve, you have burst
washed in the waters of she, a caul of white adorned,
pray, stay your hand, do not bludgeon your better half.
Existence, endless, fleeting, meld and join this randy pair
for universes swing between this bastard and his dreams.
Dedicated to my muse Brenda Atry
please read her "Black Diamond Night"
A Cardinal’s trill, peep…peep…peep…peep…peep…
often full of himself, wakes me from sleep.
peep…peep…pretty…pretty…pretty; rings out his bliss;
across Kentucky’s bluegrass in the morning mist.
A tad egocentric but, he’s allowed;
his bright red plumes make him oh, so proud.
He’s a splash of color in the trees,
a scarlet, rose red dot, singing in the breeze.
Peep…peep…pretty…pretty…birdie; I’m a pretty…birdie;
must get on his partner’s nerves; he can be over-chirpy.
the female is who is a, rusty brown.
Has to be jealous of that noisy clown!
Written 2-14-19
HIS and HERS - limericks
HERS
SWEET MOLLY SHE SET OUT THE BAIT
ORDERED A DRINK FOR THE WAIT
LIFTED HER SKIRT
FANNED SCENTED FLIRT
WHILE WATCHING THEIR EGOS INFLATE
HIS
Young Buster was full of himself
a bruiser devoid of all stealth
he measured his worth
by its length and its girth
had it bronzed and put on a shelf
John G. Lawless
7/17/2015
An Open Debate, We Await...
Hohoho.....
Someone is so full of himself and sounded so arrogant...
So full of self importance to come across as belligerent...
Issuing an open challenge for a public debate any time and place in Bolehland...
That brave but brash man is now caught like a deer in a car's headlights in No Man's land...
His open challenge is now officially accepted by a small party's president....
Whose party has unobtrusively accepted the challenge on 29November...
Albeit a political party small in numbers but with a gutsy lady president ....
Who accepted the open challenge and now pursues it too its desired conclusion....
The ignominy of which the proponent surely grasps and understands...
The acceptance for a much desired and publicised political debate...
Comes across in black and white, well phrased and with a glaring caveat...
The proponent is not to withdraw or to cook up excuses of any kind..
To escape his obligations for an open debate he so brashly publicised...
The proof of the pudding or pie is in the eating...
Bolehland awaits if this man has what it takes...
To an open debate on rights and privileges of Sarawak and Sabah...
In the 1963 formation of Bolehland as a free nation...
Hohoho....
Simply put, the question remains, got balls or not.....
Or was it all just a dare me on, just a political talk....
As in the acronym NATO, No Action Talk Only....
A prevalent norm of operations from the ruling party...
Hohoho....
He makes me laugh when I’m about to cry.
He is very different than I am; but that’s what makes him, him.
He makes no sense to me sometimes.
He admits that he’s full of himself.
He doesn’t know how much I care about him.
He calls me his angel.
He also lives in New Mexico.
He has never seen me face to face.
He has seen me in pictures, and said I’m beautiful.
He is indescribable.
He is my best friend.
He is my Mexican Jerky.
I love him.
Mama uph uBaba
Mama uph uBaba
Mother where is my father?
Mother where is my second teacher?
Mother where is the man in my life?
that will teach me manhood
with love, care and integrity
Mother where is my strongest point?
because I have the soft spot
and that is you...his so called
but to me mom, you are my angel
I just dont know to him
Because sometimes I feel like I am adopted
when I see my friends playing with their fathers at their home
my brothers calling their fathers
even my sisters calling their father with their name
what about me mom?
one foot can't run
Its like I am lost
when I see happy families
some disrepecting their fathers
not realising how much I miss mine
I mean the pain and anger
it just makes me want to cry
mama where is my father/
does he knows about me
I mean the angel he left with you
mother am I the reason of your seperation
If not then why he left us mom/
what about me mom?
were you working while he left you?
did you have shelter or food to eat/
what was he thinking mom?
Because he was the one who was there
busy promising you
the moon, the stars and the sky
stealing your joy while killing your future
but now I understand mom
you was blinded by love and your age was against you
but he took advantage of you
using you while you gave him a son
mother he never cared about you!!!
he never cared about me!!! he never cared about the family that he started himself!!!
was he drunk mom?
was he high mom?
was he goof mom?
actually he was himself
full of himself
a man who desperately needed a family
but having no intellectually wisedom
to mainatin his family
I am sorry mama
and please God
make me a better man everyday....
Siphelele Nsele
Mama uph uBaba
Mother where is my father?
Mother where is my second teacher?
Mother where is the man in my life?
that will teach me manhood
with love, care and integrity
Mother where is my strongest point?
because I have the soft spot
and that is you...his so called
but to me mom, you are my angel
I just dont know to him
Because sometimes I feel like I am adopted
when I see my friends playing with their fathers at their home
my brothers calling their fathers
even my sisters calling their father with their name
what about me mom?
one foot can't run
Its like I am lost
when I see happy families
some disrepecting their fathers
not realising how much I miss mine
I mean the pain and anger
it just makes me want to cry
mama where is my father/
does he knows about me
I mean the angel he left with you
mother am I the reason of your seperation
If not then why he left us mom/
what about me mom?
were you working while he left you?
did you have shelter or food to eat/
what was he thinking mom?
Because he was the one who was there
busy promising you
the moon, the stars and the sky
stealing your joy while killing your future
but now I understand mom
you was blinded by love and your age was against you
but he took advantage of you
using you while you gave him a son
mother he never cared about you!!!
he never cared about me!!! he never cared about the family that he started himself!!!
was he drunk mom?
was he high mom?
was he goof mom?
actually he was himself
full of himself
a man who desperately needed a family
but having no intellectually wisedom
to mainatin his family
I am sorry mama
and please God
make me a better man everyday....
Siphelele Nsele
Baby girl please listen to me
Don't fall in love so soon
He's fooling you
Don't let your innocent mind be fooled from his sweet charming
Read the lies in his eyes
Don't get comfortable with his hugs
He's an empty soul
Be the one with a mature sense because you're smart and know better
He's full of himself
Look beyond his handsomeness
His heart is a black coal
He's nothing but trouble
Baby girl please listen to me
Don't go fall in love with him because he's got a BMW and a few bucks to treat you
He's a show off heartbreaker no good for you
Don't sell your pure heart to him my girl
He's not the one... Trust me!
Smile
Akkina R Downing
Before Lucifer’s Fall
On earth nor heaven; no flooding, mud slides, or wild fires; no earthquakes or hurricanes. No wars above or below; no offensive weapons and no conflicts.
There was a time before the devil appeared in the Garden of Eden.
Before he fell from heaven along with other rebellious angels,
Lucifer was beautiful; and no sin was found in him.
One might not find difficulty in imagining a heaven as well as
a universe, when all was calm and good; when sin was unknown.
No bad thoughts; no temptations; nothing evil; I can only imagine.
There was one great symphony of praise, with heaven all ablaze.
There was no angry wild beasts, longing desperately for the feast.
How amazing that one can turn in an hour from such heavenly beauty.
I know that God never changes, and he has always been good.
But what of Lucifer? It’s hard to imagine that he was ever good.
He has always been seen as up to no good, and doing good for no one.
When I think of Adam before his fall, I recall that God game him work to do in the garden. So because of Adam, I can imagine Lucifer having assignments as well. Perhaps he had a work crew responsible for tracking the path of the stars and planets. Perhaps they gathered angel foods and fed
the angelic multitudes. Perhaps he discerned the gifts and talents
Of the heavenly hosts, and directed them to their appropriate posts. Perhaps it's even true, though hard to fathom, that God occasionally looked at Lucifer's work, and with a smile said, "Good job".
But later on, could it be that Lucifer’s window somehow became a mirror? Did he see himself for the first time and say, “Wow! Look at Me!”?
Before, he was full of God. Afterwards, he was full of himself.
How many times did he say, “Mirror mirror on the wall; whose the
greatest of them all”? Did any of the angels tell Lucifer to ‘stop it’ before he had a great fall? Perhaps so, but he refused to listen.
02292016 Isaiah 14:12 PS Contest, “Expand Arthur Miller’s Thought”,
Sponsored by Julia Ward
A ten-foot-high sunflower man
with a gold-capped tooth in his mouth but
there ain't no plan
yet he wears the same old knotty
dreadlocks again and again
While walking himself through
Black Folk's yard in that bebop-style
no doubt along the avenue road
while smoking some of that sweet sweet Gunga
Yet, him so full of himself
rasta man young rapper
you rapscallion, did you bring the juice
a most rare diamond
in a crevice of the deepest cave
its radiance hidden from the world
the human eye deprived of its luster
a waste
what a waste
the magenta bloom of a rose
behind the winding thorny vines
of the thickened forest
its aroma diminished
before it can be breathed in
a waste
what a waste
a vibrant beauty longing for love
to be treasured but ignored
willing to promise her very being
to an indifferent man
full of his own interests
full of himself
a waste
what a waste
someone stole
my soul while
I look for
another one
He all ready
got one
but wants
mine to
I give him
my gun and
try to send him
on his way
but he fights
like a mercenaries
with no place
to go
he thinks
nothing of death
and wants to
blow himself up
protector of anything
full of himself
eyes afraid
and empty
stands in the
middle of the
road and watches
cars go by
tells me I’m
worth nothing
unless I
worship myself
He’s my brother
but he steals
my soul
all the time
meanwhile she
calls my name
and I wait for
the sky to open
i see her
smile and
think how
alone I am
she sings
songs
but not
mine
I give
her my soul
but she won't
take it
I say a prayer
and shake
myself
out of it
I dance
but not
cause
I want to
I dance
because
the wind
blows hard
dying every
day because
someone tries
to steal my soul
I knew a man, a jokester, who--
full of himself--had not a clue
of how to have some fun without
annoying people. Then he'd pout
when others wouldn't speak to him.
His outlook was quite gray and grim,
but soon he would dismiss his frown.
His life-long need to play the clown,
just like a cartoon character,
caused him to rise and make a stir.
His storehouse of annoying shtick
was full of (he thought) perfect picks.
When friends and loved ones were depressed,
the jokester was at once obsessed
with entertaining these sad folks;
he rattled off cliché-filled jokes.
Still sad, they simply looked away
without a word, to his dismay.
His older sister lost her job
of many years. He heard her sob
about her stack of past-due bills.
What he did next still gives me chills.
Instead of helping with her debts,
he talked about their childhood pets,
presuming she would lighten up,
but stories of their favorite pup
gave her no joy. To his surprise,
he got from her just weary sighs!
His lack of sensitivity
and narcissistic need to be
the center of attention caused
his mouth to open without pause
and utter words that helped no one.
A corny joke and silly pun
possess no power to dismiss
an all-encompassing abyss.
Date: March 5, 2020
Contest Title: Clown at the Abyss
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
He was reputed to be rich which was enough for some girls.
James B Thorndike the fifth, and full of himself to whit.
The bluest of eyes stared from under his ebony curls.
I spoke to him once, and he treated me like a little twit.
He always had a gaggle of giggling idiots hanging on to his arm.
He was trim, but small, his feet were the tiniest ever.
I frankly did not see any of his irresistible charm.
But his gaggle would follow him from here to forever.
“What about him?” my visiting cousin asked once, batting her eyes.
Because she was instantly smitten, and silly about him.
Look down at his feet, they are pretty much miniature size.
We could not stop giggling, this James that was more a Jim.
He’s looking at us, my cousin Ellie J. Breathless said, shocked.
And look at his hands, I threw in. They are the hands of a girl.
They were soft all right, and puffy. Not like other hands that rocked.
We could not stop laughing as another straightened his curl.
He is not nearly as polished as a fifth should be. He needs to shave too.
I pointed this out to women who had come to my party to gawk.
His shoes are not genuine leather, I said. And his eyes are not so blue.
Why did you even invite him? One asked, seeing him, and going into shock.
Our mothers share a bridge club, a Bible study, a book club and a tree.
The other girls were giggling, heading to him like moths to a light.
I had to invite him I said to no one, “for my mother made me.”
He is not nearly as handsome when you live next door and he is a blight.
James P. Thorndike under pretense of drink, came over and glared at me.
What are you telling them? He asked me. My neighbor and forever best friend.
Nothing much, I admitted, looking at eyes bluer than the sea.
Knowing full well, he would be my forever after in the end.