Best Self Poems | Poetry
Below are the all-time best Self poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of self poems written by PoetrySoup members
Search for Self poems, articles about Self poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Self poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.
New Self Poems
Don't stop! The most popular and best Self poems are below this new poems list.
self-expression in the pages
by Cook, Madi
To My Teenage Self
by Faulkner, Michelle
Self inflicted - Anger - Loss - Pain - Ignorance
by Robinson, Michael
by Enriquez, Leon
by Trim, Nick
by Hughes, Avian
by Lewis, TS
Remain Self-Motivated And Self-Determined
by Project, The Brooklyn Six
The Dawn of Self
by Johnston, Brian
Self Sabotaged Rosy
by Carretti, Robin
View all new Self Poems
The Best Self Poems
"In Touch With Myself"
I can't seem to find her
The reminder of yesterday
I shut my eyes for a few seconds
Only there, can I reach to bear upon her face
The moment I open my eyes
The earth opens and she disappears
Every now and then
Darkness takes form around the blank wall
It brings out a long lost silhouette.
-I inhale a small desire,
reaching and tracing every line left behind.
I Just can't seem to reach her
The girl drowning deep inside
I turn around to look and feel no one by my side
It's been long since she slowly faded away
I gaze into the mirror and miss her every day
For one second past,
I swear she was there.
Lately, I can't seem to find her
That girl I was before
Empty feelings continue to lounge about
Rejecting yesterday away.
-Honestly, I don't know why I bother,
holding on to somebody that is no longer there?
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
You Are Not Invited
--Latching onto my soul without an invitation--
Elements around my shore expose more than air
--Playing with fire is not a game you will win--
Silently she swarms in like a leech,
Feeding and sucking from the wounds my pain left behind.
She came inside: "Uninvited!"
Here have a drink, and die!
Taste the water drips that sail across my lips
Plodding vigorously in the open air of her unwanted hostility
Forbidden as one, I noticed her aura a sickening light
Imprisonment that haunted smoke around her own imperfections
The hate and envy, she lives in resides airborne
The sound that she have summoned up hunger
Brought me near the edge of everything
Feel my pain, a touch of impurities
Tainted, infected, poisoned passion, her face disguised
Surrender toward serenity, the lighthearted woman I am inside
She will never take, my full eternal grace
It’s time to reveal that blazing fire I hide
Drown her from the false flown sorrows of gust
Hold her hideous head under water--- burn her false fire out
Never will I turn my back and watch her muster them broken lids
Lungful of lies poisons the wind that flows from her snake like voice
Maneuvering the skies, scheming that snatch in
Like a viper twisting its unmatched curves,
I strike, like a pyromaniac --A burning match
Allowing her to taste a part of the air I breathe
A waste in the breeze her insecurities
Trying to destroy what she can't be, what she can't see
At the end, blustery weather will remind her of the sea inside me,
YOU! The Angel, who crawls around like a shadow
Gorging its way into the heart with a charm of greed
Twisting reality hoping nobody sees its true sick identity
Slandering my name as the master of evil and manipulative
Marking my territory, warning others of a cold draft
Grasping the beauty that glows from my soul
There it stood on the ledge UNINVITED
The devil walked and took my shoes
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
I found the fountain of youth
When I stumbled across the forbidden garden
Right smack in the middle,
Was what I thought to be a wishing well
I tossed in a quarter!
Looking down with a puzzled face
I peeked to see where it fell
I leaned over and that's when I saw my vanity
It was always there waiting for me
The reflection in the water was my face
In wonder, I asked what this vision could be?
With one drop on my taste buds
I knew I found the one true key
The most beautiful thing that can set one free
I reached in to touch the poetry inside me
repost- My first poem on the soup
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2011
Speak in my dark night
Color your quiet words
Touch my wide open eyes
without tears, my mouth
No words, no sorrow, no cries
leave your lips, no sound
One time I walked, my words
had volume, they were proud
to share me
The hollow sound will echo
in my head, be savoured on
I came you went, nobody
and everybody passed
If you say I am, I will be again
speak my name and I exist
July 23, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017
My inky echoes conflate,
atop mountains of ivory versos;
Blank pages into whispers,
like the sway of moonlight tides;
Papers dappled by my ineffable,
frays of jet-black cursive swirls;
My best ideas are forever found,
somewhere amidst silent worlds;
'Tis best to search for me right before,
the feathery quill touches to the page;
Arisen from the blotter, my hand held in totter,
but before I drizzle down the tar;
Where my psyche thinks loud,
with the rhythm and the rage;
A battle-ballet of coarse cashmere haze,
only then does my heart think to open up its cage;
Still I promise to always behave like a poet,
one who is the epitome of an idyllic odist;
Solemn ink be my savior, perhaps a mind lost in time,
resonant verse between blinks, my soul in the lines--
March 15, 2016
Copyright © Sam Jameson | Year Posted 2016
THE WORLD OF MY SOUL
Through visions I do behold nature’s gift
for me alone to see a view so rare.
Others to see another world and drift
along in pain with those who do not dare.
I feel the world surrounding me my own,
for me to live and befall its command.
Answer nature’s query and face alone
its lure as temptations I must withstand.
But it was nature’s call for thought of mind,
to learn from others by way of living,
to understand another way to find
a view through the eyes of care and giving.
A gift to cherish to understand more,
through the eyes of others to find one’s core.
13th June 2018
An Inner Knowing, An Absolute Feeling, My Mystical Soul Self Poetry Contest by Caren Krutsinger
Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2018
The Perfect Friend ©
Today I found a friend
Who knew everything I felt
She knew my weakness
And the problems I’ve been dealt.
She understood my wonders
And listened to my dreams,
She listened to how I felt about life and love
And knew what it all means.
Not once did she interrupt me
Or tell me I was wrong
She understood what I was going through
And promised she'd stay long.
I reached out to this friend,
To show her that I care
To pull her close and let her know
How much I need her there.
I went to hold her hand
To pull her a bit nearer
And I realized this perfect friend I found
Was nothing but a mirror
Written by Shannen Wrass
Copyright © 1995 Shannen Wrass. All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Shannen Wrass | Year Posted 2013
I’m Not Your Puppet
Don’t you ever forget
that I’m not your puppet!
I’m not a toy on a string that you can manipulate,
so you can walk right back through that gate.
You thought you could simply bark out commands,
and I would just yield to your demands.
But I’m so over you and I hope you can see
that I’ve broken those chains and I’m now free.
Mr. Manipulator, don’t try to mess with my mind,
‘cause it has a will of its own as I’m sure you’ll soon find.
Don’t even try to figure me out,
I’m my own person, that’s what this is all about!
You took my love for granted,
and got everything you ever wanted.
Well, marionette maker, let me tell you what's true,
no more dancing to your tune as I've had enough of you!
Trust me I’m not even bitter,
but it’s all over and you can go cry me a river.
You really did me wrong thinking you could string me along;
but nothing lasts forever and I've grown super strong.
I’m not your puppet, and as I’ve told you before,
my name's not Pinocchio, so see yourself to the door.
You'd better understand that I'm my own woman,
and I will not be controlled by any man!
Inspired by the R&B song, “I’m Your Puppet,” released in December 1966 by James and Bobby Purify, singing duo.
Sponsor: John Lawless
Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014
My box of sadness too.
A box full of sadness I store under my bed.
With thoughts so sad
Making me wish I was dead.
With one look underneath my bed.
Memories of you jump inside my head.
Like a Jack in the box, who is trapped inside.
I stuffed my feelings in this box.
I will not surrender to any sadden thoughts.
Shutting the box full of spider webs.
I do not want to feel the deepness of sad, I hide.
This sadness I store back under my bed.
My feelings are better trapped inside.
Staring at the box with my eyes open wide.
Tears start to fall the ones I buried inside
Following footsteps with no guide.
Why did I bother to remove the lid.
Sadness always makes it hard to decide
The pain my heart does not want to see.
Hiding the sadness, I yet have not cried.
I will not release my sadness, and set it free.
I have managed to put the sadness out side of me.
This sadness only belongs to me.
How could you leave with out telling me bye.
I pretend to live my life so cheerfully.
It takes a real person to bring me down.
My sadness trapped behind a fake bully.
Like a smile from a clown .
I put on a show and block any sad thought.
Not allowing my self to drown in self pitting ways.
You left me alone after bringing me into this world.
The one and only person who could be there for me.
In my troubles and need she left me.
Every one saying it might have been suicide.
How could you leave us behind with misery and blame.
The sadness of your shame is what I hide
A box of my sadness under my bed.
By:P.D.----I guess that is one of my sadness. A true one at that.
To:The Rambling Poet- This is a challenge called by you.
Trapped inside with a sadness. The other part of me
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
Sing a dirge with crowns of marigolds.
But not for me for I am much alive, my dear.
Listen to the lovely lively rain,
Pitter-patter on the thriving flower beds,
Let them grow in all hues and shapes.
I’ll pick the marigolds’ white petals.
See, I love you not, I love myself.
Next autumn I’ll fill my lovely cottage
With the most beautiful fragrant narcissus.
14 April 2016
Any Poem You Ever Penned Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2016
While gazing into the mirror
At this woman that I see
I wonder what she is thinking
As she gazes back at me
Her face is so familiar
That one could almost say
She and I are both the same
Yet different in some way
I see it there within her eyes
They speak without a sound
Telling of a life she has lived
A happiness not yet found
She has accepted her life decisions
With each she has learned to cope
Realizing now the sadness
It becomes a spark of hope
Chasing away the darkness
Lighting a new direction
I see a tear fall down our cheek
As I smile back at my reflection
Copyright © Brenda Chiri | Year Posted 2005
I rise at the center of...
Is it a room? This is a face.
There is motion, too fast, too clamorous.
Cryptic and opaque. Shapes shift
into my field of view.
Recognize! The message spoken
ends in an upward curve.
Interpret! It means a question
? ? ? ?
What to respond, when....
I get nauseous.
My body twitches, my mouth tics
I make no sound
I cannot speak.
I cast my eyes down.
Curl up, arms wrapped around self;
Rock to calm down again;
Count the tiles;
What is this incomprehensible life?
My soothing world is filled with letters and words,
a keyboard, screen, and silent friends
They speak to me in sentences and formulas
of friendship and love...
on my screen..
I am afraid
I am always so very afraid
Once I was somewhere else
Locked up inside
Once I was somewhere else
I will not go back there
I want to stay out.
Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017
You call me insensitive,
But I don't believe that's true;
Because, you see,
It's all about me.
It's not about you.
You say your opinion doesn’t matter,
That I’ve no respect for your point of view;
But I do if we agree,
Because it’s all about me.
It’s not about you.
You say I’ve no compassion,
No feelings for your troubles or your blues;
But none of us is issue free,
And mine are all about me;
But…not about you.
A time old adage,
“To thine own self be true.”,
Is all about choices you see.
My choices are all about me,
And, certainly, not about you.
So, when its time to make your choices
You’ll understand and know it’s true;
To decide what will or will not be,
Won’t be at all about me;
It will be all about you
But special moments confront each of us,
When what matters isn’t “Me”.
And while these moments are few,
They’re not about me, not about you.
For a time, it’s all about “We.”
Yes, “…no man is an island.”
Is a valid point of view;
But if it’s not about “We”,
Then it’s all about me.
Sorry. It’s not about you.
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
I look at you
I can't stand you
I hate you
I can't believe you
I can't believe it!
How I allowed
You in my life
Almost your wife
Deep with this knife
Eat it and weep
As you read
About my new love
Distance is just a mass
I close my eyes
To kiss him
I close my eyes
And you disappear
Oh! My God.
My eyes are open
Take me so far away
Into another place
I don't need this disgrace
I don't want to be crazy
Or labeled insane
Like a crazy train
Explain the new love I found
I love the sound
To be in your arms
Not in his shadow
I plead to you
I bleed for you
I try to run into you
But the more I stay
I can't turn away
My life's is set on,
You are my everything
He is my nothing
With you my heart sings
With him it suffers
You are my tune
He is my off note
You bring light to my moon
He brings me darkness with doom
Blow me up
To spill my cup
A self destructive life
A dagger- a knife
Just kill what is left
Deep inside my chest
Then I found you
You took me
You shook me
You removed this isolation
Gave me your sensation
Rescuing me from the seas
I am drowning
Come save me
My days are done clouding
He has ruined
What is not visible
You have loosened
My heart to invincible
For all to see
Heal the pain
Wash the stain
Cover me under the rain
Give meaning to my sanity
Search for me
Give me your love
With no date, over due
My heart now belongs to you
Excuse the effect if you find me disruptive"....
It all comes with being self destructive
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010
-THIS IS NOT A POEM-
Hey, Poets stop by, give me a shout out.
Tell Me Where You Are From;)
I promise I won't show up on your doorstep.
If you are having a bad day, let me have it
If you have awesome news, don't be greedy
By all means --- SHARE THE NEWS!!!
................. LOVE THE POET DESTROYER
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
in the sun
The skin became the bark of a tree
the soul turning to brittle scars
for uncaring worlds to see.
is a pile of
old owl bones
sewn into banks of midnight creeks...
even the plump, over ripened ones
no longer look at me...
but if their car was desert flat,
their oil grim reaper black
they'd paint a wormy, water colored smile...
slide it through my barbed wired heart
so long as I could spin the jack...
so I spin it until their potholes turn to satin-
in the sun
the mind has smoothed over
like pebbles in Saturn rings..
a forgotten spice in the conversation of life
an hour later the word snuggles up to me
Tomorrow or forever( which ever comes first),
I'll stay wrapped inside
till my skin turns back to ivory
to an easter egg yesterday
to a time of bouncing ball and spinning jack,
when the mind was a great silky nest...
the face a flowered meadow place
where watercolors swirled all day,
the heart worms kept at bay.
I'll stay hidden within the weeds,
till the jewels of memories soothe
every scar - every stripe,
the molten knots of cruelty,
till the sweetened fruit reclaims the tree.
until then only my curtains breathe...
...stayed in the sun
Copyright © Anthony Slausen | Year Posted 2013
You, who are so perfect in my eyes, so beautiful- adorable, and I, so flawed, ugly, damaged and crawling with defects; why do you enjoy my company?
You, who are so sleek and slender, humming with a quiet intellect and a serenity about you, and I, so grossly overweight and pretentiously boastful and nervous; how can you abide my company?
You, who are a paragon of patience, so understanding and self-assured, and I, so insanely impulsive, so myopic and brimming with self-doubt; how do you stand my company?
You, who are so sweet, so considerably kind, so thoughtful and generous, and I, so bitter, so selfish, so self-absorbed; why do you choose my company?
You, who are so self-composed, full of self-control, so sound and stable, and I, so very neurotic, so completely compulsive and verily volatile; how can you tolerate my company?
You, who are so diligent, so driven and ambitious, so achieving, and I, so lackadaisically lazy, so uninspired, so complacent; why do you settle for my company?
You, who are ethical, so moral, so very virtuous, and I, so corrupt, so unprincipled, so wholly wicked; how can you endure my company?
You, who are so normal, so well-adjusted, so conventional, and I, so maniacal, so unbalanced and irrational; why do you condone my company?
You, who are bubbling with charm, who loves unconditionally and is absolutely accepting, and I, boiling with rage, fueled by misanthropy and incredibly intolerant; how can you welcome my company?
That you love and accept me for who and what I am, is a treasure beyond measure. I cherish your company, but why you cherish mine is something I cannot fathom. All I know is that I love you, my dear, beloved friend.
**This was written for two very dear friends: Karen and Tommy :)
***I also love palindromes ;)
*****FREE VERSE OLD AND NEW ENTRY
Copyright © Just That Archaic Poet | Year Posted 2013
Don’t judge that kid with her arms all scarred
Don’t brand that kid as bad
You never would have survived
If you had the life she had
So say a prayer and show you care
She’s paid more than her share of dues
Don’t put her down or say bad things
Until you’ve walked that mile in her shoes
Those who suffered in war earn respect
They are greeted like super stars
She came from a war you wouldn’t understand
On her arms, the battle scars
Her own home was the battle zone
The desperation, feeling all alone
A situation she felt no escape from
Then late at night the urges come
Innocence lost like a bad dream
No self respect, no self esteem
It is an ongoing battle to feel whole
You can see the beauty within her soul
Sometimes I pray for a Judgement day
You have no heart if you look away
Flashbacks come and the anger stirs
The guilt she carries isn’t hers
There is a need for justice long past due
A need for acceptance from me and you
With anger, despair and fear demanding
The child needs some understanding
In spite of all the tears she cried
There are still battle scars deep inside
Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2009
I am a creation of myself
I don't know who I am
I'm this to you and that to him
Hardly more than just a scam
I'd like to be who I'd like to be
If only I could figure
Which of me is the me
I see within the mirror
Copyright © Howard Tunick | Year Posted 2015
Waking up to the depth beyond such things every day
One day I choose to walk and become Queen of Mandalay
In the depth of my ocean mind
I Find my soul diving and trying to unwind
Peer pressure can not handle all the empty space
Avoiding the world's relativistic mass by the human race
Overusing the power giving to me
Sleeping at times disappointed by humanity
I walk in darkness to help you reach the light
I twist the darkness to give you a better sight
Walking at the edge of all things with the ability to precept
Using logic to compare and intercept the emotions we can not accept
With the emotional picture of a fast heart beat
Wiping out the brain waves with a mood in heat
Giving enough flow to the power of intuition
Exceeding the knowledge without the book of Revelation
Receiving the pointless pain in persons chest
A wreck who ignores the emotions to digest
A mood string of self-manipulation eating away at the mass of reality
Some viewers are so unperceptive, a low self-esteem of stupidity
A curse a gift with ability to know everything, illusions of feeling it
with an emphasis so useless you can not admit
Trusting one day came with a price, alerting my ego on strong
Using my energy to direct the purpose of the wrong
Walking like a tool throughout the world's philosophy
A weapon of thought not meant for the mindless or monstrosity
The hidden riddles of life are the ones before your eyes
Grasping the concept with the attention of ending lies in our lives
Proceeding the ethics of the center of one's endless layer
accepting the birth of all responsibility, over the edge of a mind player
I gave the thought with a natural twist of a moving spear
Expanding the horizon of the hemisphere
Edge walkers down and broken standing without
Walking straight forward with the same God and Devil in doubt
Simply looking through "rose colored glasses."
Chaos from the ugliness of avoiding the large body masses
Balancing out the change to allow the flow
follow logical emotions, that destroys a mind blow.
causing the opposite to any action
effect the law of any equal reaction
expect to accept the unexpected, a dull way of life
connect the keeper of the masters weapon knife
with religion comes the weakness of not standing tall
with the strong perception of life even one can fall
Standing without the generations of a crawler
living as a shadow he or she who believes the edge walker
by: P.D. June/6/10
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
I can't believe he has to be a poet
To tell you how he feels
Maybe he does not know
When words are written on paper
does not mean your wounds
are going to heal properly
To be or not to be?
That is the question you should ask.
The man should never call himself a poet
Unless he has lived, learn, lost, and gained it back
The man who writes good poetry
In my eyes is a man of art
He can paint you anything without a paintbrush
This man I call a poet, with a colorful heart
Using all his manly skills
He is way ahead of the ordinary man
Leaving the imagination, filling the soul with chills
aroused ------- he calls for me
While (I) the woman swims in tears
She finds herself helpless
Without a man, she thinks she is lost, nowhere to be found
The secret of the female
When she is broken
She begins to feel and thinks life is over
Little does she know her time will come
When the time calls
The lady is stronger than ever
One thing I learned about a lady
You better respect her (me)
Don't destroy (my) her better days
She will crumble you
She will crush you where it hurts
This is my demo to all ya poetry freaks
Keep it real!!
Don't steal my words.
I have feelings too:)
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
Person of colour is coherently germane,
He is never insane.
Some things about this person of colour may seem strange,
He is simple and he is yet to engage.
This person of colour loves the critics,
It is from them, he ticks.
This person of colour is natural,
And so, he is not a trial.
This person of colour loves to exchange
Ideas beyond his range.
This person of colour loves keyboard,
Tis with this he comes on board.
This person of colour is a charcoal- a black beauty.
This person of colour is me.
Copyright © Abdulhafeez Oyewole | Year Posted 2013
You came when I needed an etheric friend,
though I never knew you in life.
An angelic guardian I see in dreams.
You died just before I was born yet,
it feels like we've spent a lifetime together.
Protectorate, eternal spirit, arriving when needed;
an infinite connection.
Cartoonist that you are;
in childhood, I knew you as a giant panda bear,
my invisible playmate after grandma died.
You understood just what my
child-mind needed to heal.
Others only labeled me a,
You inspired me and gave me hope.
To you I attribute my imagination and creativity;
from you I inherited my love of the arts.
Now, astral visits give birth to fresh ideas.
Being an adult should never be boring,
grownup or set stagnant.
If “faith is believing”, then I am rich.
I believe in spirit and soul.
Yes, you came when I needed a friend
and now I believe I can truly be me;
without the condemnation and judgments of others.
You came and you gave me…
back to me.
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2014
When a woman is just a woman
........... her true self she shows
When she is honest with herself
............her confidence glows
When she reacts with expression
.........with all emotions combined
When you never have to question
.........repeatedly speaks her mind
When she gives her attention
...........shows tender loving care
When she shows her inner child
..........does everything with flair
When she voices her opinion
......... omits when incorrect
When she exposes her heart
..........treats all with respect
When she gives you her all
.........asks little in return
When her eyes are open wide
.........always ready to learn
When she has nothing to hide
......... her heart on her sleeve
When a woman is just a woman
...........her soul you will perceive
Copyright © Cecilia Macfarlane | Year Posted 2015
Bloated; the feeling of you getting filled with the same things of the world
Old from not finding something new to make you feel young
Daily you thrive to make your life of interest to others, but mostly yourself
Yielded by emotions, that has diminished your pride
Other hopes have come about and gone with your procrastination
Floating inside your head, so when your body is caught you have gone
Time always a cheating mistress, but you always felt you could get more out of her
Hauling your depressions, to remind you of different kinds of sadness; masochistic
Evening light is the best, cause you are not fully viewed
Letting go of your childhood, has made you forget enjoyment of silly things
Inner self is slowly crawling more into his inner self which is crawling to nothing
Violent are your fist that you feel vibrate every time in your anger
Intentionally seeking attention, bad not a good whore at it
Null is now your favorite word
Going with out a goal
It has swallowed you whole what ever it is...
Never mind returning bliss
Thinking about all the good times you could have, but you went ahead and missed
How much more self loathing are you going to give?
Even children get over scrapped knees
Having nothing but to agree to self pity
Open your mind and eat the many things that should be searched
Use your will again, instead of a pulse to keep living
Sense your self once more and maybe you love will also
Everything could be something
Ogre lurking inside, must be killed by your own sword
Forgive and the apologies will feel like candy in your mouth
Timidness is not a option
Help yourself do more than just thrive!
Eager are the types of happiness that are waiting
Doubt should not let you sit
Elope your mind and body together
Adjusted to much to be a copy; so unnoticeable
Death comes at the end, not during.
Copyright © Jessica Arteaga | Year Posted 2009