Best Self Reproach Poems
Last winter's resolution gone by spring
So I never did the bikini thing
The same five pounds
Still hanging around
I sigh and stare at that suit made of string
Perhaps I should take a different approach
By hiring a personal trainer coach
Jillian Michaels
Exercise cycle
And perhaps just a dash of self reproach
I'll cram my flab into that swimsuit now
To wear it all winter I will avow
Though it causes pain
I'll struggle again
But by June I'll still look like a sea cow
Two faithful souls stand listless in the great big tower
overlooking the stranded city that once stood tall
yearning for a quiet place to lay their heads
while far beyond the deserted land
a soft blue light gleams gracefully above tranquil skies,
dancing shadows rocking to midnight tunes,
and sweet melodies echoing from the gigantic moon.
She spans more than a thousand feet long soaking
up the exhausted earth, her immeasurable depths
cuts and carve through valleys and streams
with clear blue water and powdery white sand
what more could you ask for on that distant land.
They have been planning this trip for many years,
but when the time draws near their saving disappears.
An empty refrigerator with two trays of frozen ice
lean against the corner of the kitchen
in their ten bedroom mansion
and a bare pantry exposing a slice of mildew bread
filled with little mice nibbling and playing tug of war.
Not many people knew their story
they have been broke for twenty years
but lived a painful lie, cutting corners
making back door transaction,
eating lamb and turkey from profits
made from sordid deals.
Their empire that once stood tall hangs in dismay
While it watches the world going up in flame
by those who continue to play treacherous games.
Sobibor and Hiroshima horrors of the past
Should have cleared the way for a more sophisticated path
But now athoroughfare mixed with complexity
packed with insidiousness
have ducks walking around
quacking without wings or tails
They finally got an offer to go to Utopia.
with packed bags not a penny in their name,
they set off for Utopia hoping to find a new life again
but when they got their it was the same old begrimed game.
Their entire world has been shaken,
shaken by its own guilt and self-reproach,
the transgression that their ancestors have borne
have been handed down for generations to shoulder
A land that they believe was pure and holy
has turned into nightmare and horror
dreadful things dismount in dark corners
women raped strangers abused
yet religion forms the core of the throne
They have witnessed empires toppled,
Kingdoms have fallen in their sight
Rulers have shaken and wept bitterly
causing the great big god to balance the scale
but blackmail in Utopia remains a formidable game
©2013 Christine Phillips
A Vow
Can you keep your head up while others put themselves down?
Since, you must raise when there is no loss of true pride.
Learn to choose when others choose by a chance.
And hold your strength too.
You can learn to defeat when others fear to lose.
So, your defeat will be the tribute-
Till you learn that losing is your prize.
For that- you must be fascinated by-
the dream of faraway returning ship,
When her sail is softly waving against the drifting wind-
that looked like a flag of permanent defeat.
Never think of if you can’t, but be straight to hold it.
And it’s your carpe diem plea which will let you;
Hear when they can’t, see it while they don’t.
Yet, do it while they just try to hear and see it.
And learn to retain what you have lost.
Raise your heart high while others are backed by otherwise;
Of sorrows, melancholy, greed, cunning,
And guilt for being pricked by-
self-reproach, timidity and stupidity.
And take those matters for granted,
And be yourself a part of solution.
Prove yourself be working stoutheartedly, but even-handedly.
And always keep your heart opened.
Accept their views, but never quit-
to assure that you are beginning and doing.
I know-you will be defeated, but not destroyed.
A Vow
Can you keep your head up while others put themselves down?
Since, you must raise when there is no loss of true pride.
Learn to choose when others choose by a chance.
And hold your strength too.
You can learn to defeat when others fear to lose.
So, your defeat will be the tribute-
Till you learn that losing is your prize.
For that- you must be fascinated by-
the dream of faraway returning ship,
When her sail is softly waving against the drifting wind-
that looked like a flag of permanent defeat.
Never think of if you can’t, but be straight to hold it.
And it’s your carpe diem plea which will let you;
Hear when they can’t, see it while they don’t.
Yet, do it while they just try to hear and see it.
And learn to retain what you have lost.
Raise your heart high while others are backed by otherwise;
Of sorrows, melancholy, greed, cunning,
And guilt for being pricked by-
self-reproach, timidity and stupidity.
And take those matters for granted,
And be yourself a part of solution.
Prove yourself be working stoutheartedly, but even-handedly.
And always keep your heart opened.
Accept their views, but never quit-
to assure that you are beginning and doing.
I know-you will be defeated, but not destroyed.
An offensive mirror
produces my face,
and ears listen to a
hackneyed heart beat
The stench of stagnant
breath confirms my
identity and smoker’s
status. Sixty a day
The cold floor held
by blood drained feet,
a razor held in hand
at mannequin angle
The bile in my throat and
the fur on my tongue
congealed with the sickly
sweet syrup of life dripping out
The door behind falls open on
its own axis of gravity and the
mirror reveals an empty room
effused with a pall of used smoke,
Like grey mists rising on a moor,
seeking fresh lungs to enbalm.
I am as alone as an unnamed star
travelling the furthest reaches of space
Feeling the saltiness of his sweat
Mingling with her broken flesh to torment her,
Tears of humiliation, tears of anger,
Of bitterness,Self reproach and tears of revenge ran down from her eyes.
Words died in her throat then there came smiles playing
On his lips.
she felt it like a sting blow .
Her ears spun, taking in all the sounds
In the room, the tick tock of the clock ,
The whirl of the fan, the music that
Flew in softly from one of the rooms, every thing.
His speech betrayed her surprise, the joy that
Had bubbled in her all day long dried in its stream.
He took her from the rapturous heaven of a few minutes
Ago to a blazing hell.
From bloom to gloom, from gladness to heaviness.
It came like the faraway cry of a little child
From a distance land.
Mucus from his nose joined in the journey of water from her eyes.
Within a tickle of an eyes, she was broken and defiled from
Girlhood to womanhood.
Her tomorrow has been broken and taken to exile in a strange land of tears and sorrow.
Having longed to escape insanity for sanity
Her worse dreams, her nightmare.
Her hatred on him bubbling with a fierce passion
Voice cool but as deadly as poisonous snake.
In a sharp explosion, his confidence almost failed.
She felt the small sharp stabs of tears pricked her eyeslid,
He had murdered her joy and peace gradually
Gently she tried to scrape the bitterness from
Her saliva coated tongue, it was the nut she had eaten,
It was the humiliation and defeat, the bitter taste of womanhood
In the head of a father, blood to blood.
Don't forget but let go her spirit advice.
She moaned and groaned on the bed each time he penetrate her,
In a mixture of anger and excitement.
Her moans echoed Reverberated,
It sting the ears and makes the tongue bitter.
Nothing to sooth her pain in her heart,
She had been with this searing pains in her heat, rape.
She was emotional about all but longed for revenge, and murder
Her tears were dried because its supply had been depleted.
Now she longed for the day she will gather the
Broken spirit, heart, mind, and emotions,
And strike without missing, yes she would at all cost
And return sanity to her humble spirit.
It mattered not who he is,
The broken spirit has to be gathered and couple together as one to behold.
Another year will end with cheer
one more shall soon arrive, no fear
But how they make such a fine din
as one falls out and t’other in
while I will wince, holding my head and festive beer
Not soft and gentle their approach
I’ve asked them both, but they won’t broach
to ease the change that they must make
Instead they choose to make me quake
and tremble at their shouts and bells of self-reproach
There’s drink and food and auld lang syne,
pine trees, balloons all do combine;
conspire with cards to set a trend
that truly drives me round the bend
I roll my eyes and wait, in vain, for some lifeline
They’ll bang, they’ll stomp, they’ll yell and scream
Meanwhile, I’ll try to plan and scheme -
for resolutions must be set
to make next year the greatest yet
At twelve, one goes, I’ve no regrets; I can now dream
At times we should not be afraid
to roundly call a spade a spade.
I shrink not from a reference
to a fearful pestilence.
From Leo the king to a lowly vole,
the fear of death held all in thrall.
Even the amorous turtledove
found no appetite for love.
At last King Leo called together
birds big and small of every feather,
dogs, wolves, hares, horses, cattle,
to join a mighty fearless battle
against a woe that knew no measure,
that revealed divine displeasure.
In a tone both low and grave
the king proposed a way to save
his subjects from destruction's pit
in a way that would best fit.
"Beloved creatures, renouncing sins
alone celestial pardon wins.
Let each of us search heart and soul.
to find what error played a role
in provoking Heaven's frown,
sparing not Our royal crown.
We too have erred, let Us confess,
sharing guilt for the present mess.
Often We - Oh, truth to tell -
a flock of harmless sheep befell.
We must not omit to say,
the shepherd too his life did pay."
"Your conscience is too tender, Sire"
From all such self-reproach retire!
That shepherd got his just reward;
for humankind no tear afford.
Us animals they kill, enslave.
The world has lost but one more knave."
Thus spoke the wolves dressed in black
whose legal minds no cunning lack.
The animals told, one by one
all the wicked things they'd done
until it was a donkey's turn
to say for what his heart did burn.
"Once I was standing at a fence,
For what I did there's no defence.
I felt an urge - o woe betide! -
to munch grass on the neighbor's side.
Some demon drove me to so act.
Conscience forbid I hide the fact."
"Oh monstrous sin! Abomination!
Betrayal of the animal nation!
'Tis this wicked foolish ass
that has incurred God's wrath, alas!
The court did not brook delay.
Someone had the price to play.
A Vow
Can you keep your head up while others put themselves down?
Since, you must raise when there is no loss of true pride.
Learn to choose when others choose by a chance.
And hold your strength too.
You can learn to defeat when others fear to lose.
So, your defeat will be the tribute-
Till you learn that losing is your prize.
For that- you must be fascinated by-
the dream of faraway returning ship,
When her sail is softly waving against the drifting wind-
that looked like a flag of permanent defeat.
Never think of if you can’t, but be straight to hold it.
And it’s your carpe diem plea which will let you;
Hear when they can’t, see it while they don’t.
Yet, do it while they just try to hear and see it.
And learn to retain what you have lost.
Raise your heart high while others are backed by otherwise;
Of sorrows, melancholy, greed, cunning,
And guilt for being pricked by-
self-reproach, timidity and stupidity.
And take those matters for granted,
And be yourself a part of solution.
Prove yourself be working stoutheartedly, but even-handedly.
And always keep your heart opened.
Accept their views, but never quit-
to assure that you are beginning and doing.
I know-you will be defeated, but not destroyed.
there are very blurred lines between
what is coincidence and what is augury
omen, or fore-token
for in my dreams and meditation
I have been confronted with regret and shame
sorrow, and grief about my life thus far
my past is full of
condemnation and self-reproach
humiliation, self-punishment and tears
sending me on a journey of soul-searching
oh, I went for a palm-reading
for crystal gazing, for tea-leaf reading
and tarot reading with no real results
in my meditation I am looking for a sign
some signal or manifestation
some evidence of an omen
but can find none
so, I have concluded that my life
as it is
with its experiences is the same as
everyone more or less
~~Redemption~~
Set me free
From the haunting memories
Set me free
From the taunting thoughts
Set me free
From the recurring nightmares
Humiliated, beat-up, pelted
Learning the art of self-reproach
They say I am sinful
They say I am the reason
They say I am wronged
Am I, are you sure?
Someone laughed at me back in the mirror out there!
-Puvi (23/8/2016)
Shards of oblivion
Life in a dice
Annoying nudges
Approaching self reproach
Bent on levity
Head on a plate
Empurpling serenity
Instigating the triumph
Sigh for a sigh
A poke in the rib
Brows and gestures
Counting colours and calories
Back in harmony
Five thousand light years from the void
Ardent feelings of love
Happier than thou
Back in harmony
Particular measures pleasures and treasures
Hands in air
We own the sky
Back in harmony
Unchained melody and a crazy pose
Beautifully unconventional
Idly loafing
We have a great deal of sadness
Pent-up inside our fragile selves
Bordering at times on madness-
unhealthy in and of itself.
You’d think we’d learn to deal with it.
No! We shelve it for another day
and indubitably admit
its return in myriad ways.
Sorrow assumes many faces
Far too many to cope with each
Leaving behind tiny traces
of memories and self reproach.
Human minds are the rub, the source.
Their forlorn heart’s its driving force.
Occasionally in the eyes of a student
I see the ghostly look of a much younger me
Those troubled and painful looks of despair and hurt
The reminders of adolescent self-reproach
I felt while dancing from the puppet-master’s string
An uncovered, mauled, and robbed young child’s self esteem
The shy anti-social character of my youth
A life prematurely frightened and distorted
By the mirror of poverty and tragic death
As a teacher, I adore all of my children
But, there will always remain in my wounded heart
A special place for the child on the master’s thread
chakra shot, aura ignored
inner peace left unexplored
feelings sans a sounding board
blest I’ve left the mindless horde
friends, none that lie to me
or neighbors that like to see
a banshee wailing jamboree
self-reproach is absentee
no dogs, cats, or swimming fish
little is left demanding wish
lunch mirrors a petri dish
the future passed with reminisce
up every day at the crack of noon
to nosh on candies and macaroon
suck helium from a red balloon
entertained at the Shambles Saloon
the postman left mail today
junk and clutter some might say
bills and debts remain unpaid
life is better left unplayed
beds splayed displayed
clothes unwashed too deep to wade
dust layered is carefully laid
happiness is now homemade
the sun set that never rose
reflections must I suppose
account, compound, and then depose
neatly rowed in juxtapose
lying down at last to sleep
importuning God will keep
me whole, sweet, and replete
whimper shall not well or weep