Centeredness Poems | Examples

The Prophecies of Mr Adams

Streets are filling with needles, disease and narcissist
the airways rimmed with demands for respect
if you don't agree 100 % they'll ring your neck
and your next of kin.
people turn to plants and spirit to retrieve their souls
not realizing until it's too late
that they've flushed it all down the toilet bowl...
grasping blindly through turds of madness...
Directionless.

they turn from Love and God into the blow hole
of influencers u tubers and tic tockers 
dolphin people living for clicks...
looking to make a name for themselves
not through talent, class and hard work 
but through shock and crassness.

I once had a teacher (frustrated by our terminal self-centeredness')
who once told a bunch of giggling know it all kids...
" One day the world is going to scare the living hell out of you".
How right you were Mr. Adams.
How right you were.

Fight with Yourself

Life is about fighting for the love of yourself. 
Remember what you learned as a teenager 
Take aim at your body and mind to fight  
Follow the lessons from parents and teachers

When you have a career, be prepared to fight 
Even day and night without becoming weary 
Whether they are hard or huge, tedious or tough 
Finish a great job to bestow upon your country

In middle age, you carry the burden of struggle 
Eliminate evil thoughts and self-centeredness 
Dispel delusions, ignorance, iniquity and anger 
Surely break down while fortifying goodness

Even though, as you enter your golden years, 
Keep your body and mind strong and smooth 
Fight down against any weakness and laziness  
Fight! Fight for morality by speaking the truth

The Rope

THE ROPE

One end anchored in faith, and
the other in the solid rock, Jesus.
 Fibers of love, mercy, hope, peace
strong strands interwoven.

A guide when the storms of
life beat against the soul.
A friend to grasp during the
deep drifts of depression.

It is always there for me,
never moving, never breaking.
I am the one who lets go, from
arrogance and self- centeredness.

Age has strengthened
my grip. I have no desire
to let go.

Recognition - revised for a missing line

Line of Inquiry:

“Mistaken that I was this body-mind,
I succumbed to desire and fell to fear
but on choosing pathways loving and kind,
light of God in heart began to appear
and truth of my true essence became clear,
which made in God’s image, is living light,
gripping us in rapture of bliss delight.”  - Unseeking Seeker


Oh to rid oneself of human weakness,
let go of fears and not give in to lust.
Oh to see the finish of one’s bleakness
by putting in God’s hands one’s total trust.
To open up clarity’s sweet portal
and understand God’s truth should be the goal
and strive to be more than a mere mortal.
Oh to really feel God in one’s soul!
The year is ending; let me wisely choose
the path of love and kindness – God’s own way.
A person gains when he’s prepared to lose
self-centeredness. For all mankind I pray
we recognize God’s light and let it shine -
to bring a world of bliss – God’s peace divine.

The Fine Art of Keeping Distance

Into the deep- green hearted forest
far removed from man's raucous tangle
the many tacky hues of self-centeredness.
There's only herbivores and carnivores
doing their thing in primal time harmony.
Nesters weave the incoherence together
Miraculously everything is spaced out evenly
I'm given a wide berth and tolerated to a degree. 

Even the gray silence keeps its distance from me.

Paper Faith Pedestal

The brain is an instrument of improvisation
suffocating in an ancient bone cave
with its white and gray byways
garnished in electrical blood drops
creating great works though time pressed
and pressurized.
It is also a weapon of mass deception
pods of oddness always plotting 
endless deep blueness and innate jealousy
a DNA staircase decorated in ornate self-centeredness
prone to God mocking and demon envious.

Overall, the brain is a hieroglyphic glass ball 
bursting with dead-end riddles and plutonium destinies
perched upon a flint and paper faith pedestal.

Misunderstanding

24 June 2024  9:54 Am

What good is a written word if no one reads it?
What good is a spoken word if no one hears it?
What good is either if no one understands it?

How tight and dark the prison of confusion
Enlightenment rejected for lack of inclusion

Societal chaos a city of souls lost
Love abandoned sanity tost

My way my vision my wants, hearts incisions
Who cares who bleeds for my needs and decisions

Humanity my vanity self centeredness uncanny
When my heart is to busy to care for the many

My heart of stone disguised in flesh tone
Pretending to care pretending to atone

This is how I could be if this were the way that I see
But my Father replaced the faux for reality

So soft and fleshy this heart of mine
I lend it out time after time

It comes back battered and bruised
Torn and injured from being abused

But that is what it is for to be given not just stored
Given to those who need love most even if they smash it on the floor

TAXING THOUGHTS

TAXING THOUGHTS

Let us hide behind a litany of lunacy
Of gods and Gods, prophets and profits

Does it do any good to feed the hungry
When we are the cause of the hunger

To take money from those who work
And give it to those who can’t or won’t

Do the presidents dogs really need SS protection
More than his garage door needs a lock

Why does the Red hat of the toreador
Arouse such venom in the capeless

Must I give up my right to be me
So that you can exercise your right to be you

Must I turn away 
Lest my eyes offend you

Silence my laughter
To sooth your self-centeredness

Must I teach my children and grandchildren
That they are less than because of who they are

Let us hide behind a plethora of flags
And mock the one allowing them to fly

Life Labyrinths

(Author's note: Traditions of walking a labyrinth as a form of meditation go back many centuries. Labyrinths in Christian contexts usually have a single, winding path instead of a maze’s many possible dead-end paths. Mazes are puzzles to be solved. Labyrinths are tools for meditation.)

Life Labyrinths

By Mark D. Stucky
Nothing frightful lurks in sacred labyrinths.
No Minotaur inside waits to devour us.
No complex branches exist to confuse us.

Only a single, circular path,
winding back and forth,
silently invites us.
A path sketched on the ground.
A path for prayerful healing
of any monsters in our minds.
A path intended for mindfulness,
peace, and private pilgrimage
toward contemplative centeredness.

As in life, our path curves
and endures sudden detours
and substantial reversals.
Our goal comes closer to us
but then recedes from us
over and over again.
But we can be certain
we’ll eventually enter
that elusive center.


(Originally published on Amethyst Review, 1 July 2022.)

(Photo by Erez Attias on Unsplash.com.)

Life In My Land

Life in my Land
Life in my land is not by right
With greed, we are wound around
Hardened ruiners ravaging all we have
Like raptor they kill, devour and fly

Cupidity, the spirit of avarice
Eating up the weak flesh and bones
The bones and marrow are gone
The butchers cry for them at least
But voracity, the soul of gluttony
Are stuck to, the looters of, them all

Frightful shudder
Quakes my land and its borders
The foetuses cry for fear of murder
They see no safety in their mother
Desperate ones are full of fright
In fluster, they make to swim out to land
Through the reddish stream for life
But sadly, their dual times are slaughtered

The parasites of our mother's head
Are not even bothered about our care
When the land is shedding tears
The swamp's trickles must be bloody red

Grievous time like this was never known
These are years of sorrow untold
And a season of terrible dash of hope

Tell It Like It Is

In our personal life,
there is too much distraction

In our family life,
there is too much disconnection

In our political life,
there is too much division

In our social life, 
there is too much dishonesty

In our religious life,
there is too much 'man-centeredness'.

In our career/work lives,
there is too little craftsmanship

In the totality of our lives,
there is too much 'anything goes'.

In the totality of our lives,
there is far too little of 'Loving God'.

102622PSCtest, Tell It Like It Is. Mystic Rose Rose

Everyone Warned Her

Everyone warned her about his intentions. 
We all felt his savage side, could see how jealous he was. 
There was a selfishness about him, a self-centeredness. 
She had an innocence and a light
He was determined to squelch it, stomp it into putty. 

She did not see what we say. She adored him. 
He isolated her the second they said their vows
From her parents, her friends, her siblings.
She was cajoled into giving up her church, her hobbies.

Isolation, the first step initiated by a psychopath.
Who is determined to take away someone’s light.
Which of course, he did.

Sloth Steaming Sin

Sloth’s Steaming Sin


Sluggishness slitters solely straightforward 
Sedentary survival styles scold, strain
Self-centeredness - sloth’s shinning standard 
Squandering silvers… spiritual sprain





July 21,2022     11.31pm





PS Syllable Counter
Syllables Per Line:	10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables:	40



Proverbs 19:15 
Slothfulness casts into a deep sleep, and an idle person will suffer hunger.

Sin of Sloth
Contest Judged:  8/2/2022 3:20:00 PM
Sponsored by: Margarita Lillico
Place 1 (one of the 8 first placers)

Poetic New Year Readiness

A prayer. for peace and open
communication
To respect others without domination.
To welcome new poets but honor the
older ones,too.

There are extremely good poets here 
who we just do not read,
If you see no comments to any poet,or 
few to  them, leave one,,its an act of
soul, someone said,

For you, I wish much peace and serenity.
Not madness, to be at the top of the
poetry tree.!
Just pure joy in writing, your somg, that 
sings of thee!

Some just mad for popularity, to me, is 
self-centeredness, not poetry.
Just write a simple poem,expressing your 
own soulful picture of humanity!

     Happy New Year 2022
            Panagiota

I Kill Me With Kindness

Fill my cup-
out of reach, I cover up,
corrupted by kindness and sensitivity.
Tread on me-feet of debris,
ask of me, you will receive.
Delivered in sweetness,
dripping with meekness,
I play Twister around your needs
like a tangled sheep and
I ask you what you want,
But all I really mean is-
I want to put me first, but how?
I dont know how.
To begin is to allow self centeredness.
I live to serve,
to fulfill your dreams
while mine remain
undreampt, unkempt, disheveled, overspent.
Kindness-this double edged sword.
Think Im killing two birds with one stone,
In reality-
Im running from reality, from my reality with your reality.
I never face reality.
Never being real, actually. 
Sacrificed my life, but in my mind
at least I made yours better.
What a coward Ive made of myself.
Strive to balance this world of kindness,
with Purpose.

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