Best Self Denial Poems


Desert Wanderer

Desert Wanderer with not a cup-
I'll hold you tight and lift you up-

I'll give you aid and lend my strength-
And take you far, to a great length-

To see your safety and a healthy smile-
You are worth life, have no self- denial-

I promised you in, a time now gone past-
That my love forever, surely shall last-

For you are my Desert Wanderer dreary-
Take this sorrow and be your eyes so teary-

I promise you now, and in the here after-
You will find love, placed inside my laughter-

We will stay one, toghether and all-
Always shall I be waiting for your call-

My Desert Wanderer with not a cup-
Hold my hand, I will lift you up-

Angels and Architecture

Are we not blind-registered children, 
tripping over our future tails? 
Sight unseen enabled 
for the will of night prevails. 

Within the cone of silence 
curve the angles formed obtuse, 
at odds and plainly hidden 
in the shade of the recluse. 

Feeling numb along the crumbled brick, 
cement and mortar Braille; 
callused lesions blunt the tips 
and rip out the fingernail. 

If opened to accommodate 
the scope of love's domain, 
the arc-light blinds so fiercely 
slamming eyes wide shut again. 

And all the time in brilliance shine 
their halos fired intense, 
yet we, enslaved to self denial 
reject the evidence. 

For the sake of nothing ventured 
breeds the compost of conjecture, 
means we look but cannot see 
the angels in our architecture.
© Tony Bush  Create an image from this poem.

Star

The star sharpened, quietly bright,
as shadows darkened into night,
a point of shining light that guides
three kings to where the child abides.

They visited, arrayed with treasure,
gold and incense for his pleasure;
poor tokens for a life of trial 
exemplifying self-denial.

A man above, a man apart, beloved of
God with hardly time to steel his heart;
a man who sacrificed his soul
to make the unrepentant whole.

He took Mary for his lover, 
she was caring, and sought cover 
to conceal his dissolution,
(a passion pure, no need of absolution.)

The star that consecrated birth
no longer smiles upon the earth;
he wept for us upon the cross
and every day we mourn his loss.


Premium Member THE ECHO RETURNS NOT

Silent is the echo as pride shouts
   selfishness causing pouts...
      self-conceit triumphs over jealousy bouts 
         self-glory reigns with discontentment clouts
            self-reliance wavers upon attacking doubts
               self-pity maneuvers toward false humility-routes…

The echo returns not indeed...
   as self-sufficiency does arrogantly succeed
      self-exaltation declares me-I-my-mine creed
         self-inflicting pain midst guilt continues to breed
            self-denial actually hoists covetousness and greed
               self-love matters most, not recognizing God with His deed.

Premium Member Human Promises Weakening

Every stomach should be bounteous with food.
Acceptance should be ingrained and subdued.
With terrorism demise, may Humanity prevail?
Embrace peace through embracing humanity tale.
To prevent skirmish, refrain from criticizing people.
A firmer grasp of one another's emphases feeble.

We are wholly identical, as the stars are plenty.
Every one of us is a word of God's adoration subtly.
The leading light sustains a quieting impact on stream.
A stirring fire saturated with affection haunt a dream.
There will be no conflicts and there will be harmony.
Faith in self-denial and the ascent of antagonism utterly

God fills us with serenity in a variety of ways.
His affection lights our nights and plugs our days.
Realizing my loved ones are fine and protected.
Thankfulness and kindness overflow in the blood.
A profound inner calm that no one can charter away.
Even mankind's hope is clung alive the deep way.

Written: March 25, 2022
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Carry Your Cross

Jesus…
When you said,
“Take up your cross, and follow me?”
What did you mean, Jesus?
What did you mean?

That cross…that I have to bear…
It seems too heavy for me
I’m crushed under the load
Weighed down…
Suffocating….
Unable to breathe
Much less move

I can hardly carry myself around, Jesus
And now I must carry it as well?

What is that cross, Jesus?
Are you sure I can bear it?
Is it the cross of self-denial?
It is my crucified pride?
My unruly desires?
My self-indulgent will?
My selfish dreams?

Jesus, is it that love
That threatens to consume me
Is it that love
That cannot…that SHOULD not be mine
That you want me to crucify
On this cross
That you want me to bear?

Remember, Jesus
Remember, Lord…
Please, remember
That I am weak
I’m only human
Fragile
Frail
Doubtful
Afraid
Most of all unwilling...

Jesus...
I balk at the pain I must endure
But….I know
I KNOW….
You can help me carry this cross
For you carried a much bigger one
That had nailed on it
All my insecurities and pain
Right along with your bleeding hands
That covered those sins
And washed them in red and made them
Whiter…much whiter than snow

Jesus…help me bear it
This cross is too heavy for my frail shoulders
Please, hold me in your embrace
Secure me…
Cover me with your strong arms
Let your shoulders bear the weight
Once again….
As you carry this cross..
My cross
For me.

Eileen Manassian Ghali


Dna Baby...

Do Not Abuse 
that which life has gifted, 
determine? the soul determines! 

Mad scientist access denied 
geno bombs millions die 

nuclear weapons 
toxic gases, 
pesticides - 
now infantile genocide 

mad scientist...with your
poisons and potions the ozone
layer now dangerously thin...

...human beings you now 
want to destroy - destroy within...

...play God and change the 
genetic code...

...gay people and others you
want to scientifically remove...

self distruct geno mode
prejudice...theres' a great
place to start...

and all the mindsets that
code for violence...in their
heart...of hearts

the world is not flat...
the world was never straight 

screen self genotype- 
activate sequence code 

self distruct homo/les mode 

self denial - xerox copy 

disposable personality 

I celebrate genre my gene pool 
being gay is very cool 

being gay is cool 
if being gay is not the same
if being gay is different 
if being gay is not like you 
I like not being like you...

deoxyribo nucleic acid
I understand the mad mans
test tube...

...indeed...

...self impose Frankenstein...
stick to frogs and toads...

...there is a higher power
at work here...

be off with you...and take
your mumbo jumbo...

A Mother and Son Collaboration

Mother: Inside, there may be fear.  Outside, this may challenge your image.  But whatever maybe, I am here as perseverance.  As second born, you may feel that you are unimportant.  You do know that you are welcome here with open arms.  Resilience enables voice.

Son: My time on Earth evolved.  You gave birth to me with love.
But sometimes I feel controlled.  Agitated from seeing what I know.
I am grateful you are my mom or, otherwise, I might be the unlucky one.
Insecurity always coexist, but this can be overcome easily.

Mother: One thing is for sure, your worldview will inform your soul.
Meaning when you down, you take the needed space where your mind can relax and think.  When you want to talk, you may come to me for a shoulder to rely on.  I admire your tenacity even when this may question diversity.  In time of distress, consistency may or will conquer demons.

Son: I can become tired and angry inside annoyed about whatever causing the hindrance and self-denial – sick from wants and desires.

Mother: But oh, like Satan suppressed by the wrath of the Almighty God, one day all this will be behind you.  Clearing out your thoughts finding a greater source, you’ll find that life can be magnificent when you believe in the omnipotent.

Son: Mother, thanks for doing this with me.  I now feel more at ease to conceptualize my ideas where I address my next idiom and/or phase.

Mother: And son, keep your eyes on the prize and that is what makes happiness inside and determines what is right.  One may be without the other, however, when together, cherish what is right because this brings more value to happiness, which son is ultimate and known as contentment.

Premium Member Cain's Self Denial 2015

Cain's Self Denial 2015

4 a m again alone,
In a room full of peers
A raging war is being fought,
Confined between your ears
Drafted into battle, with no enemy to engage
Yet volunteering unwillingly fueling dueling rage
Mystic river flows, with the blood of innocent
No longer even knowing, or caring how truth was bent
Angry at nobody, and everyone in between
Sabotaging yourself, and unraveling every seam.
Imaginary enemies
Whose roles change day to day 
A game with no clear rules 
Consciously  unconsciousness, I know that I must pay 
What promise can be spoken, to bring life into the void, uttered self denial, to speak within the ploy
And the enemy I can't see,  nor begun to understand 
Callously reflects my cards and always tips my hand
The price you pay for breaking souls, just keeps on feeling cheaper 
You soothe your conscience with the ancient line that your not your brother's keeper
There's no bad and there's no good, you played the only hand you could 
.
And the hollow eyes around you, pretend they couldn't see
You shake your head and try your best to pretend you don't believe 
Yet you know too well the horror. . .  Of what you've come to be

Premium Member Passion

Passion!

Such frustration, pain, euphoria
Trapped inside one mortal being
Such excitement, anticipation and despair
Laid bare - it's scary seeing

Such one sided input
A look and kiss in return
Such anxious, stressful waiting
Oh, how it makes hearts burn

How can I explain these feelings
How can I get through to you
This flaring, searing passion
Unfulfilled and unquenched too?

When can I accept your reasons
For our not making love?
Why can't I comprehend your depths
Instead my hands I throw above?

Never before have I witnessed
Such strength, such self denial
You share my ardent fervour
Yet each time your heart's on trial

I wish you well, with all my heart 
In what you yearn for and do
I wish you peace and contentment
Unlike what I've put you through

Forgive my impatient lusting
Forgive my incessant trying
Forgive my constant coaxing
When I know your heart is crying.

Kindness and Afterlife

Spreading the good news
Spreading the kindness
Kindness keeps spreading
Kindness heals rascals
Rascals were lying
Rascals and the pope
Pope and Cardinals
Pope re-entered Rome
Rome the papal territory
Rome the city of roman religion
Religion has no office hours
Religion as a set of an ‘unseen’ being
Being a light to others
Being Christian is more than being good
Good name as a personal integrity
Good progress that grows hopeful
Hopeful to have time for others
Hopeful for the kind of love
Love of God and love of neighbor
Love is patient
Patient means being peaceful
Patient means being merciful
Merciful and being considerate
Merciful God
God hides inside you
God as the Holy Spirit
Holy Spirit is God’s power in action
Holy Spirit has nine fruits
Fruits of gentleness
Fruits of faithfulness
Faithfulness being “divine persuasion”
Faithfulness means commitment
Commitment requires faithfulness
Commitment requires self-sacrifice
Self-sacrifice is an altruistic abstinence
Self-sacrifice is akin to self-denial
Self-denial is also self-abnegation
Self-denial leads to self-improvement
Self-improvement must remove old habits
Self-improvement in Christianity
Christianity as a religion based on beliefs
Christianity based on the teachings of Jesus
Jesus chose to suffer on the cross
Jesus ascended to heaven
Heaven as the throne of God and the holy angels
Heaven as the abode for the righteous dead in the afterlife
Afterlife as a contrast to the belief in “oblivion after death”
Afterlife as a continuation of existence in a spiritual realm
Realm…
Death…

05.28.16

Longing

Longing
For Affection
Self-denial, Self-afflicted, Self-fulfillment
What condition caused deprivation?
Starved!

Premium Member Character Sketches From Hermann Hesse

1.

                                                          Narcissus

There's a lot of room left in your head yet, my brother
There probably always will be.
Yours the realm of sliderule order
The self-denial of the man who believes in Facts.
Your feet planted firmly on the Earth
While your head inclines to the stars.

You could well serve as God's measurements taker.

Your home is the cloister,
The sound of sandal upon stone
Will usher you in and usher you out
As you pass through the halls and cells
Of your ruthlessly well managed life.

The quiet warmth of candlelight
Has always shone in your eyes.
How much I admire your strength and discipline,
Yet how much the more do I pity you,
O Master of the Mind!

                                                               2.

                                                          Goldmund

O what a lucky ladies' man you've been,
My darling, handsome little Goldmouth!
Kissed them all and not a one cried
When you left them.

There was too much of your mother in you for that.
The libertine's life was the road you followed,
Running ahead of wilting youth.
You saw the plague and its silent horrors
And killed two men yourself,
Got a taste of the gallows,
Yet lived to tell it all.

You lived much, suffered much,
Burnished your soul to its final brightness.
When you fell and broke your ribs
To breathe your last in icy waters,
Alone beneath that dark, unpitying Winter's sky,
Mother called you back.

Less Than Zero

With glorious primordial certainty
  the sun will rise, the sun will set;
likewise you languish knowing what you're about,
  you know what is and isn’t so;
  yet, ultimately, you don’t.
Chained to the chromium railings of 
a sterile value system,
  some terminal, addled suffragette,
hollow to the very core, quintessentially 
punch-drunk by the ghost fists
  of what you do not know;
  sometimes you can dream, more often you won’t.

This is all you wanted, surely,
  way back when Homer was a pup;
this thing you worked for, this cold material cocoon,
  this anaesthetic cult to which you belong;
  then again, maybe not.
All your wild beasts are chained and in cages
  you painstakingly banged them up;
now you act surprised in a wrung-out 
monochrome way
  at the quiet death of your protest song
  with the former self you have forgot.

Just as a virus will seek out a host,
  just as water will find it’s own level;
you’re a schizoid, new age, careworn dolt
  with no limits to how far your mind will sink
  in unfathomable depths of self delusion.
Wrenched this way and that, going with the flow,
  serving both God and the Devil;
but where now is the rebel heart, 
the hedonistic happy fool,
  the keeper of the demon drink?
  no more than a crumbling memory, 
the feeblest illusion.

Once burning with such crucial fire,
  a quiver full of arrows shot with telescopic vision;
now all that burns no more, doubted by the rain
  spat from black clouds of self denial;
  no remnant traces of an ex-antihero.
Servile to the whims of children,
  and an emasculating harpy 
who regards you with derision;
you are alone your own executioner
  self judge and juror at the kangaroo trial
  self sentenced to figure less than zero.
© Tony Bush  Create an image from this poem.

Lenten Reflection

Self-denial is the doorway
that leads us closer to God.
To lose oneself is to gain
a deeper intimacy with Christ.

Self-doubt is the window 
through which the devil
makes his entrance.



3/9/11  Ash Wednesday

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