Best Self Consciousness Poems
Flickering like candles in the slightest breeze,
Raw with emotion, they are seen so easily worn on sleeves.
Asunder they may break, so
Gentle you must be! Gossamer
Is the flimsy sweater of protection that they wear.
Laugh or look too hard at them, and you are liable to
Embarrass or perhaps even to embitter them.
Heed my advice:
Exercise restraint. Their souls
Already are exposed and must be assuaged.
Refrain from ridiculing them, for
They already suffer from self-consciousness.
Sweeten your words instead. Strengthen and support fragile hearts.
Written Oct. 23, 2016
Categories:
self consciousness, heart,
Form:
Acrostic
I have been there, and seen her
The darkest parts of myself which hide in the caves of my soul
I have been elsewhere, and seen her too
The most joyous thought covered in dreams and filled with hope
I have been everywhere, and seen her
The deepest darkest yearnings of my heart
I have seen all of her, yet I am lost to her
The viscous gnashing of self consciousness
I have seen all of her, yet I am confused by her
The over gracious application of mercy
I have seen all of her, and I know her
The heart that overflows with empathy
I have seen her
I know her
I am her
15 lines of poetry
1/6/2023
Contest: ‘2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 24’
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Categories:
self consciousness, woman, women,
Form:
Free verse
Free from inhibitions
No more shyness to prohibit
The spirit’s intensity
From bringing extreme
Intimacy
Free from embarrassment
A shining example of passion
Awakening the power
Of sensuality’s caress across
Hearts
Free from any hang-ups
That might have been reasons
For never letting go and
Allowing abandon to capture
Informality
Free from the rose blush
Of shame, bringing doubts
Reflections of anxiety and fear
Conclusions that harbor worrisome
Reservations
Free from awkwardness
Without humiliation to graze
The naked dreams that penetrate
Deep within the one who knows no
Disgrace
Free from discomfitures
Without pride or egotisms
The whisper of inspiration from
One who listens to the song of spontaneity
Thriving
Free from self-consciousness
Dancing in the rain that accomplishes
More with it’s melody of lingering songs
Than any concert created by the one who is
Censored
Categories:
self consciousness, freedom, innocence, strength,
Form:
Free verse
I said to my prodigal son
who stole from me,
it is not competitive economic strategies
that dominantly empower life;
Competitive ecologies and economies
are dominantly decomposing monocultures,
just the opposite of regenerative synergetic praxis
and regenerative intent toward polycultures.
Monopolistic internal consumer-culture
develops into decomposing organic systems
dissonant cognitive
and emotive
and neural
and digestive systems
diseased health and well-being
Socio-economic
and politically dissociated systems,
all negatively trending toward closed-entropic,
swollen monolithic sad dismay
replacing former therapeutic system
glad array.
We need cooperatively dominant economies and ecologies
to reintegrate positive revolutions
that endo- and ecto-symbiotically evolve
dipolar co-arising life regenerating
holistic healthy systems.
Competitive critical events,
like stealing from and stolen from,
struggling between painful suffering of ego-self consciousness
and "positive deviant" stress,
self co-arising right-brained redactive eco-precociousness
Contention
seeking bicamerally balancing contentment,
joint cooperative ego-eco echoing
incoming/outgoing waves
of double-binding comprehensive co-passioness.
Primal
and yet stealthy
nonverbal structures
of cosmo-neuro-logical information
evolves bilateral-analogical exflowation,
cobinary
bicameral information co-redeems
transparently co-arising
EgoSelf+EcoOther resonant co-discernment.
"All money is a matter of belief"
said Adam Smith,
As all embodied wealth value
is synergy
for relief from self-isolating mind sorrow,
said Now MindTime to Here BodySpace.
Transparent matters
of historic linear human progress belief
square-rooted in herstoric matriculture's transparent
vulnerable co-communing energy
invites co-gravitational trauma relief
from eco-political dissonating stress.
I love my prodigal self-infested son,
perhaps somewhat more than he yet has capacity
to love his wounded womb progenitor
speaking up and out
for restoring and restorying healthy
wealth of peace.
Categories:
self consciousness, addiction, life, longing, love,
Form:
Parallelismus Membrorum
Yes, He is approachable. No, He is not hidden or isolated.
Yes, He is an Infinite and Awesome Supernatural Being.
He introduces himself to us in the form of our own humanity and invites us into a personal relationship with Himself.
He demolishes all former barriers and walls of separation,
and establishes eternal bonds of one-on-one communication.
He is infused with simplicity, and immune to complexity.
He is not abstract and does not freeze my brain with questions too advanced for me. If he utters realities that are not understood by me, I neither worry nor experience frustration.
I understand that He is nt the author of confusionon but a Revealer of Truth, which is himself.
He is forbearing and redemptive; not judgmental
He is a most lovely Being; not a selfish unknown
He much prefers to forgive and ‘look over this’, than to condemn and ‘get you for that’.
If he had instincts, love would be at the very top.
Perhaps our first life instinct is self-consciousness.
Self-preservation is a natural for us. He requires no preservation; and if he has anything to preserve, it is us.
01092017 cj PS
Categories:
self consciousness, god, relationship,
Form:
Prose
since maintaining a diet
of exercise heeding "yo dude"
(you look like a lady)
the inner fitness maven against
the temptation of high caloric junk food
and nightly snack king
on a flexible fitness routine,
this LIX aged body electric feels good
these myopic eyes and
well-calibrated hands measure less dense hood-
winking bosom, that if I feigned being
a "bared naked lady" -
as per this chest lewd
city in reference to "man boobs"
that seemed to materialize overnight
now appear to decrease as well
that unwanted "love handle,
this chap more inclined
tubby in a greater mood
to parade around
this noncrowded house shirtless
AND definitely NOT in public,
BUT no weigh Jose
would this generic guy go completely nude
cuz being self-consciousness of my physique
might prompt outsiders
to consider me a prude
and even during closed bedroom door
sexual exploits deter me tibia rude
fellow (with average go daddy long legs)
and my dangling dipstick smallish
(concluding biology screwed)
a chap worthy tube he more endowed,
though gratitude proffered
to same divine cosmic consciousness
but as the year's pile up appreciation
of functional faculties alter matts' at tee 'tude
accepting physical characteristics
more or less static
hoe ping belive mass elf ya wood.
Categories:
self consciousness, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Personification
I stare blankly ahead of me;
stare into the cracked soul of the being who used to reflect a smile
- the girl I used to love unconditionally.
That love evades me now.
Where has it gone?
I search desperately, but I fear it is lost forever
- lost forever in the turbulent streams of my --self--consciousness;
lost in the dark recesses of my mind,
in the shrunken cockles of my heart.
I fear I may never find it.
But surely nothing is ever truly gone;
surely it is simply hiding from me
- playing a twisted game of hide and seek -
or creeping in the shadows of my despair until it is needed again.
I need it now.
Words cannot express how deeply, how utterly, I want to love that person;
to see something of worth or merit in those dark eyes,
to smile back when those pale contours
find their pride again.
But somehow, I just can't see that face the same way.
All I see are lips chapped from saying "no"
- from constantly repenting sins they will soon commit again and again.
All I see are those blank, empty eyes staring back at me
- the cracked soul within beating herself bloody to be freed.
I wish I could see it - I wish I could set that girl free - but somehow I can't find how.
I want to see it again:
the eyes so full of promise and hope that they blossom,
the smile of a girl who knows the world will keep spinning.
the face of a girl who may be chipping away piece by piece, but is still trying.
But you can't see what just isn't there.
I'd like to think that with enough wishing, that face will return;
that somehow the withering girl - bound by her own will - may find the sun again.
That against all odds, the cracks will begin to fade - the splintered child will heal -
and maybe, eventually, time will turn back and her smile will find its way through the pain.
I'd like to think that miracles are a stones-throw away - that all you need is a little bit of pixie dust.
I'd like to believe that love does conquer all - much as the world would like to prove otherwise.
I'd like to believe that, beneath the face of a girl with only bad days left, there hides another girl.
I'd like to believe that inside those soulless eyes,
buried deep within a chasm of depression,
hiding, timid, in the shadows,
there lies another face:
A face that, maybe,
I can love
- or at least smile back at in the mirror.
Categories:
self consciousness, confusion, depression, hope, life,
Form:
Free verse
Swiftly swallowing resentment of play
Acting and dancing to music
Shallow beats and tambourines
There are wild hills full of echo
Mindless ghouls and children skipping through fog
Thick and wet - pouring through my hair
Clever retort from beleaguered little men and women
Rheum, flowing mind, draining into a styrofoam cup
Hot with pulp and grit, my body purges
Life's collar-key broken by bone and rock
I am left alone to wander the plains
Of my self-consciousness.
I search.
Something is always missing, always running
Away from hands that will not catch
My eyes are not quick enough to see.
Categories:
self consciousness, nature,
Form:
Fingers on the keyboard
Unlock mysteries of the mind
Guarded by the demons of
Secrecy, shame and self-consciousness
I can hear these demons now
As numerous as the weevils
Boring into my cranium
Snarling and snapping in my ear
O tortured thoughts
Reveal thyselves
Unwrap your presence
Open yourselves to the sun's strength
As thy spirit absorbs the light
So will thy bones and marrow
Glow with the red cells of life's blood
O mindfulness
Meditate upon the spirit
Know that muscle and sinew
Are but thy weak brethren
For within thy sub-conscious
Lies the universe's answers
They will reveal themselves
According to your courageousness
And willingness to listen
March 10, 2016
Categories:
self consciousness, anxiety, birth, conflict, courage,
Form:
Free verse
Self-Consciousness
White noise surrounds us each day. We do not even hear it over the din of living. Life is noisy, a constant barrage of sounds from all different directions, in all different pitch. A phone, music, loud heated discussions. The very moment I get an answer wrong, one can hear a pin drop.
“A pin can be heard”---
Dropping tinny to the floor
Why is it so quiet?
Sunshine Williams
Categories:
self consciousness, how i feel,
Form:
Haibun
With one precise wave of the baton
the Oboe starts playing a single melody
beautiful notes flowing upwards, fluttering downwards
reverently renders on the last note
well-balanced diaphragm for soft and loud tunes
before the final note disappears into the air
the Violins fill in the silent intervals of resting space
painting a background of sweet flower gardens
their bows joining voices with synthetic core strings
singing brilliant and responsive tone with a nice complexity
the Violas, the Cellos, the Bass all join in the chorus
bright blue skies emerge from the strings
unaware of the approaching dark thundering clouds
tonic and dominant rhythm of the Timpani
announcing the presence of something sinister
the black lightning monster hidden in the billowing mass
twisting sounds conversing with the Percussionist
cooking charms from the Glockenspiel
metallic echoes of bells ringing in the rain
suddenly interrupted by a menacing shrieking Tam-Tam
mixing chemistry with the guidance of a mad scientist
a jumble of words that make no sense
struck by a combination of Chimes and Crotales
shouting judgments into a creature's ears
so lacking in self-consciousness
gliding on the outer shell slipping softly away
always craving to fulfill the starvation of empty souls
green eyes looking towards the Harp for its unique resonance
ebony lips licking in anticipation of the next composition
Categories:
self consciousness, fantasy, imagination, metaphor, music,
Form:
Free verse
Babies
Babies trouble me.
I am always wary about what
it is that they know –
that they aren’t telling us.
Can their toes really taste that good?
Babies are a lot like snowflakes.
No two are alike. I like to think
they look just like themselves.
No sense saddling them with
Uncle Henry’s nose or
Aunt Harriet’s bushy eyebrows.
Babies are life’s tuning forks.
They emit a vibratory invitation
impossible to refuse.
They also relieve us of our normal
self consciousness and allow us
to be spontaneously silly.
Babies love to laugh and find
it amusing to make us laugh.
We think that babies are dependent
on us to provide what they need.
Babies know that we are dependent
on them – to reconnect us with what
is really important
A smile, a laugh, a tasty toe, a burp,
a pair of warm jammies, a welcoming heart.
Babies teach us to believe, to trust,
to love, to rock in time to a heartbeat..
John G. Lawless
Categories:
self consciousness, baby, joy,
Form:
Blank verse
Scar-instilled lessons…
Bring me to grateful cogitations' engagements
Since soul speaks of human’s “self-consciousness.”
Affirming that scars are the path to the soul.
I have become “a living soul…”
Such is God-wrought mystery revealed by my Mother’s scar
Thru her cut when she gave birth to me, that I’m thankful for.
Indeed, my mother’s scar declares great value of my soul… my life.
Then I learned of the Saviour Who sacrificed Himself…
Bearing bruises and wounds to pay for my iniquities;
In trusting Him, I’m granted life eternal.
Thus, His cross-scarred body assured my soul’s redemption.
Spiritually, I have scars that show my once sin-inflicted pain…
When I languished in misery, gripped with guilt
Groping for fleshly triumph, I felt futile and worthless.
Now, scars serve as avenues toward soul-humbling before God for help.
My scars remind me of my cry for heavenly aid…
When I was excruciating from my downfall’s discomfort
Ailing due to failure-frustration with bitterness’ oppression.
Today, those scars lead me to God’s throne for soul and faith's revival.
In moments of anguish-haunt, I serenely behold at my scars
Divinely healed, I express with the Psalmist in the Scriptures:
“Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me?
Hope in God*: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance.”
*Psalm 43:5 Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? hope in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.
October 1, 2018
1st place, "Verses of Metaphors II" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Laura Loo; judged on 10/7/2018.
Categories:
self consciousness, 1st grade, appreciation, christian,
Form:
Free verse
I Do Do I
Contemplating to get married? Be careful who you choose,
If you don't, while married, You will gain or you'll loose,
Gain more pride and self confidence, Loose your pride and self consciousness,
Gain more love and recurring happiness, Loose your power and confidence,
Anger issues - Therapy - A must! Avoid regret, Before you forget!
Financial stability, too important to erase, Must be in place, to fit life's pace,
Trying to choose a partner, Learn of their background, It's even more important, it be similar to your own
There's no relationship, without flaws, But ways you can cope, trust God.
If it ends, You may be friends, But less motivated; To stroll the isles again.
Categories:
self consciousness, wedding,
Form:
Rhyme
Language bridges nature's self-consciousness,
covering,
discovering,
recovering,
uncovering
sacred Time's regenerous echoing Pilgrimage.
Categories:
self consciousness, earth, language, nature, poetry,
Form:
Free verse