Best Self Regard Poems


Times

A lot of parents these days are self absorbed self glorified babysitters
Raising a youth with no standards or morales, without limitations
A fantasy reality with no self regard, and no intellectual education
We are part of the problem, afraid of our neighbors, defying our creators
Creating our own gentrification, watching with blind eyes as history repeats itself 
Standing by, in silence, until they decide the next people to blame it on
With no self identity, a nation built from conformity, eliminating unity
Breeding hate for generations through misled communications and misinterpreted history

Premium Member Choosing Obscurity

Can any fonder love myself endure
Than self-regard bestowed upon a name,
Or for the cause of unrelenting fame
Become a thing unpleasant to inure
Myself, I think it wise, I must demure,
And savor all the taste of dignity
If takes the pleasure from my liberty,
Then I shall suffer long to be obscure.

I struggle for the loss of all that’s me,
When ego flees in search of undue pride
And leaves an aching heart bereft with tears
While my emotions, hopes and dreams, do flee
Perhaps what’s left behind inside of me
Are nothing more than strains of devilish fears.

written December 7, 2021

Premium Member Jung On Authentic Self Regard

Our current situation,
in the evolution of our species,
is one in which the ego has forgotten its true role in the psyche
and has usurped the role of central regulator.      Carl Jung

Sometimes the best gift you can give yourself
is to forgive yourself
for not thinking and feeling and acting
like your healthiest self
on your best day.

Set yourself down in an empty therapy chair,
but keep your interdependent biosystem dancing,
choose your words to yourself kindly
with active curiosity
as your body reminds 
rewinds
revisits
remembers
your listening empty-chaired mind

I'm exhausted by your confusion
about what you would actually need 
to be healthy
and what you think you should want
to feel better about your lack of integrity
lack of compassion
lack of self-and-other-respect
lack of curiosity
and maybe something like
lack of reverence for life,
too much severance
from considering the probabilities
of a feeling-wealthy death.

I want to be free of your insatiable craving 
to be appreciated
even by those you don't appreciate,
to be recognized
even by those you don't know,
and adored
despite your incapacity to feel adoration.

Why do you wander off
and leave me neglected
malnourished
dehydrated
bereft
uncared for
unappreciated
uncelebrated
unadored
neglected,
verbally abused?

So, please share with me,
what do you feel you personally need
as informed by your own past experience
on your best trauma-free day
doing your physical
and mental
and political
and economic
and social
and environmental
healthy 
loving kindness best?


Premium Member In a Heartbeat

My heart thumped away, trembling
In the sigh of an autumn grace
Reflecting the moments, when love
Painted my doubts in sapphire laughter
Silencing each hesitation with joy
Poured out on the spirit who knows
She’s finally found her other half –
	Something better than she can describe

My heart, beating recklessly withing me
Sending darkness a reminder that, with him
I know only the radiance of a kindness
The miracle of a light promising healing
The wonder of two who know what it means
To love beyond self-regard, with a love
That adores more than just the attractive
Love that admires even the unpleasantness
If it brings them closer to their most cherished
Treasure – the target of their affection
This love knows the meaning of acceptance

This love is wise and warm and willing
To give from the heart and soul, a feeling
That embraces even the letdowns, the flaws
Little catastrophes who inspire our hearts
To overflow with a love that is kind, generous
Gentle and considerate, a gift from the spirit
Who knows what it is to influence with love

This love is the sensation stirred to life
By the spirits of two who know the meaning
Beneath prayers, promises, praises…
The tenderness of giving more than things,
Giving with the intention of spreading
Pieces of a nature, affection that can’t be taught
Understanding, forgiveness, caring…
That can’t be bought – these are gifts from heaven,
          These are gifts from the heart!

My heart still trembles at the thought
Never knowing the joy of this love that brought
My heart to the realization that this gift
Is more beautiful than the most breathtaking
Intimacy like this brings the heart satisfaction
The soul a sense of appreciation and the spirit
A connection that inspires joy and affection

Premium Member Beware of the Thorn

~

Tonight I bare my folly to the moon
O’ moon, you saw the ways the devil woos
How roses swoon to songs so out of tune
But hearts refuse to see the naked truth

A bloom that seeks the sun to feel the glow
For gentle touch and whispers from the breeze
Instead of sonnets sung with warming breath
His mirth has had his laugh, and left with ease

I trace the choices made…each withered shard
Love strove to use me up, and follow scorn
I stand alone, stripped bare of self regard
As petals fell away, stripped down to thorns

Love’s fragrance steals my breath, against my will
Made captive by a heart who seeks it still


~
Lost Love Sonnet For Francine's Contest:
By Carrie Richards 1/20/12

Premium Member Bubble of Illusion

When thoughts cease to flow ~
         Where does ego go” prompt 
                 by Unseen Seeker 




       Ego ego, wherefore art thou, ego
      are you inert, in our dreams libido 
      I cannot sleep, twisting to and fro
      need to take, a sugar filled placebo 
     Not sure I believe or even agree, no

     Ego ego, an ineffable growing credo 
        All our unconscious, cannot veto
      where wilful thoughts, do indeed go
        Does self-regard need a torpedo 
     humility answer’s’ only if I believe so


By David Kavanagh N/A


Premium Member My Petals of Words

Unfinished words I now retrace
Are drifting now like petals in the wind
Blown long ago, from some old hidden place
This is the night that calls me to that place
From deep within my vase of memory

I fell in love with words, but knew that love was fleet
My words recall, and help to write a poem
As if it were a thing to touch and feel
That time and years would take to make complete

 I write again on petals now retrieved! 
And still, somehow, sweet fragrance lingers near
When thoughts were flowers falling at my feet
I’ll pick them up, and dust them fresh and clear
                      
Tonight I bare my folly to the moon
O’ moon, you saw the ways the devil woos
How roses swoon to songs so out of tune
But hearts refuse to see the naked truth

A bloom that sought the sun to feel the glow
For gentle touch and whispers from the breeze
Instead of sonnets sung with warming breath
Each petal  has had his chance, and left with ease

I trace the choices made…each withered shard
Words strove to use me up, and follow scorn
I stand alone, stripped bare of self regard
As petals fell away, stripped down to thorns

My words now steal my breath, against my will
Made captive by a heart who seeks it still


______________________________________________
1/24/13

Premium Member First Things First

self regard
brings
self respect,
pleasure
pride
simple bliss:
the touchstone
of contentment
laid bare...
...self..care

Premium Member The Marketplace of Thought

The Marketplace of Thought!

Don’t I love who I’m open to - would share soul with (somehow in words -
in poetry, revealing me)? Must I place worth on goods ‘vain’ hawk
to earn a look? Let self-regard be life’s canard! God Loves such cheer?
May I find wealth in other’s health (I pray), by Grace of God’s intent,
not courted rhymes that plague our times, end freedom found in ‘Will of God’
(that lights all life)! Oh, bless the ways God’s muse serves days! Count that enough!

My labor’s mark you think a lark (not worth fool’s ink or up to snuff)?
What you begrudge, I would not judge. I serve my truth! Is it so odd
that’s what I’d share? Your truth is yours if it’s just Coors (in lieu of rent)!
But rent’s still due (my point of view!) I’m happy though to share a beer,
not make you wrong (to me, love’s song!) reciprocate without a squawk.
Life shared’s a chance to change the past, hoist sail up mast, view world like birds!


Long Tooth
October 14th in 2022
Poet's Notes:
Another poem with distant rhyme and note too that each line has an internal rhyme as well! What fun!

Premium Member Unconditional Selfregard

Opportunities to rest
in unconditional self-regard
also present risks
of unmitigated narcissism.

While self-respect
is my prerequisite
for pursuing resonant win/win integrity's 
full bodied potential savor
flavor
favor

MeWe co-passion
for EgoSelf
as also part of
sacred EcoOther
co-arises global
unconditional 
regard for healthy life
over harmful death
and all conscious 
curious creatures
in-between Alpha
and Omega
great transitions.

Ego wealth of self/other compassion
values love
above all else,
although perhaps more could be said
for an unconditionally regarded
sense of humor,

Ego/EcoSystemic joyful
resilient compassion
remains cooperatively therapeutic
powering through competitive
narcissistic trauma histories

Of win/lose closeted
micro-aggressions
miscommunicating
what was originally intended
to express warm unconditional regard
for oneself
as part of cherished Other

Dipolar
(not bipolar)
co-arising regard
co-gravitating toward
a shared sense of healthy humor

Which is a loving fruit
of the Holy Spirit
the serious narcissist lacks
in his dominating patriarchal
capitalist
anthrosupremacist
EarthView

Of unconditional
LeftBrain prominently learned
disregard
for empowering cooperatively curious
and warm
and enlightened joyful
bipartisan caring co-relationships

Loving 
open
transparent
vulnerable
non-judgmental
means compassionate 
unconditional Me-and-We
integrally cooperative regard

For opportunities to rest
in unconditional self-regard
despite past
and present 
and future risks
of unmitigated 
LeftBrain monopolizing
monoculturing
monotheistic 
snarky narcissism.

Oyster Girl

We met over oysters and scallops in the French Quarter
of a mismatched ether.

She sent pictures - her in a mirror, beside a mirror,
partly hidden by a mirror, naked under glass
(I still have that one).
She liked to reflect and be reflected.
I admired her self-regard, her low-minded succulence,
Her high-handed high-heeled slipperiness.

Raw fresh oysters and Dom Perignon for breakfast and lunch.
Scallops seared in butter on a crostini and a
Sauvignon Blanc for supper.
This minimalist diet kept her svelte, prim, and of course
most improper.  I thought of her as a swim without a swimmer,
splashes of her revealing her lovely lips, and they were indeed
lovely,

red but not scarlet more a sea anemone rouge
as it fades to a pink laced coral.
The camera may garnish but it cannot hide
that kind of salty lusciousness
caught fresh every morning.

I likened her to a glistening slickness to be sipped or guzzled
Her words slipped through you like Gaelic eels.
Her neck undulated as a dolphins caress
as she swallowed her catch and zoomed.

I confess to an occasional shame-faced queasiness;
and then oyster and scallops are best consumed
over the internet where too much of them
cannot sour the stomach or tease you softly
with a squirmy aftertaste.

Yet I still imagine her in a mirror again
her teeth as pearly as pearls, yet snip-snip sharp
and as pointy as stiletto’s rent through a fished-up
filet of heart.

When Trump Rode Into Town

Then came Trump 

No one talks about Syria anymore, 
 Was there a war there?
The bombing of Mosul the long siege
Trump occupies the news 
And the whole world from pigmies
In the inner Congo, to the tall Dutch
In Amsterdam, are Psychanalysts? 
The press robbed of their pompous 
Self-regard like a school yard bully
Scolded, plots shocking stories about
The President of the USA

18 Brumaire

(On November 9, 1799 Napoleon Buonaparte
launched his coup d'etat in Paris.  It made
him a dictator, and corrupted him beyond
salvation.  18 Brumaire was the date of the
coup, by the revolutionary calendar in use
at the time.)

As climbing greasy poles habitually goes, 
this wasn't (one must say) exactly polished. 
To be roughed-up – but by politicos! 
Can't blame them: no-one likes to be abolished 
(especially not these ego-bloated shysters!) 
What else? Oh, in a paroxysm of rage, 
in distant climes, eccentric Kapellmeisters 
were gouging (scoring?) through a music page. 

For all his smiling talk of ease and glee 
(tomorrow), his eloquent implorings, 
unfailingly, this moment always comes. 
The pipes are always drowned by the drums. 
and that sleek sloop named self-regard so sleazily 
slips free of all that nurtured it – its moorings.

Premium Member Pride

an enduring
                mystique
insistent,partisan
steeped
with
      self-thought
intense
innate,yet
heartless:
          self-regard
tainted by
           self-love

Premium Member Self Regard

It would be a shame
to go on and on and then out
longing for grace
of some imagined historically significant life missed,
or simply more entertaining and health wealthy lives
laughingly not chosen,
to instead choose to belong in slow learner loyal grace
of this love life limply lived place

I could have chosen to hurt hurting people
by delightfully deliberately applauding the U.S.
as RedBlooded Earth's manifest supreme land
of patriarchal self-infested opportunity.

But we might instead agree
this is also a matriarchal land of love liberty,
one of a few scattered seed-invested places,
warm inviting wombs
of opportunity for health incubation
with concomitant risks of nationalistic pathology.

It would be my unpatriotic shame
to exit Matriarchal EarthSoul
without fully belonging in graced opportunities
wealth-lived risks
of predestined integrity.

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