Self Image Poems | Examples
These Self Image poems are examples of Image poems about Self. These are the best examples of Image Self poems written by international poets.
Isn’t that you smiling from your abyss
Devoid of anything found and missed
Caught in the middle to lose at both sides
Watcher of time with its high and low tides
Doer of nothing and listener of rain
Living through ages you dared to attain
There you sit in your saggy armchair
There you think of what nobody cares
Anyone who is alive seems fed up
Those who are dead never drank from your cup..
Gratia et Veritas
Our conscience bears witness
(in the way thoughts are excused)
Our conscience bears witness
(in the way actions are accused)
Our conscience bears witness
(though inner self bemused)
Our conscience bears witness
(through God’s grace unabused)
A shattered image of myself in pieces at my feet,
my vanity strewn all around left mirrored in my mind.
My outer shell self centred too, lived in real pretence
created pictures of me gone, all broken left in shards.
Cast down in anger in defeat, how will I find myself
by looking at one tiny piece, the real me see in there.
Could it be this tiny mirror shows my real reflection?
If I gaze without pretension take off my mask of fear.
Strip off my painted makeup, fresh face I am not lost
begin again my truest self, the mirror of my soul.
Why do you show me this face?
It only brings me to tears
With dark circles about sunken eyes
Now it shows its years.
Why do you show me this face,
This face I knew so well.
With Eyes that cease to sparkle,
Now tears have begun to swell.
Why do you show me this face?
With skin that no longer shines
Worn and lined around the lips,
No laughter lines.
Why do you show me this face?
Why, mirror, must you reflect so bold
For all I see is time’s own trace
where youth once burned like gold.
Dear stranger behind the glass
Why do you stand there and watch time pass?
I see you when day breaks and night falls
I see your shadow when I pass you in the hall
You look right at me as we suffocate in silence
I came here in search of guidance
Why do you look away when I come near?
Why do you cry when I shed a tear?
You say hurtful words
But what I say is worse
Why do you ask me why you hate yourself?
Tell me if you wish to be somebody else
You look at me with sad eyes that never change
I always make you feel ashamed
Why do we hurt each other again and again?
I thought we were supposed to be the best of friends
Dear stranger looking in
When you're fighting with yourself you can never win
If the rose could speak
would it orate of her own beauty
or having heard enough of ours
content then with just her flowers
for true beauty need only self be
as time no concern of eternity
Yet her fragrance intoxicating
as Narcissus at the Vintaging Pool
will true beauty never
transcend her own inherent rule
for beauty sake
be her own habitual fool
A teacher by choice, a poet by chance and a wife and mother blest
Sensitive to such extent that even others’ misery moves me to tears.
Time has mellowed me, still like a child, touchy and itchy.
Twas a portrait, puddles painted.
No face of ours, am I acquainted.
And yet wait still, for quite the visage,
Something new, in someone's image.
It wasn't quite, no frown nor fright.
Though waters spill, from strokes of skill.
Simple paints or mercury,
The subject's hand was cursory.
And so it melted, so it cried.
Lines blurred heavy, and the viewer died.
I've spent a lifetime trying to be somebody
struggling to get my name on the plaque.
So if you're reading this a hundred years from now
I guess I've become somebody somehow.
Strange though, not to find a cure for individualism
the one ism that seems forever to run wild.
Almost nobody applauds the end of ego
yet the Buddha said it's where he'd go.
Finally, I went back to see my name on that plaque.
What do you know? It's no longer there.
Some upstart thought it better in storage.
Here I am starting again on the road to nobody -
this time I think I'll get nearly there.
Rise above illusion. Meet reality head on.
A great reminder that out of the billions who've lived
that I'm really not that special.
Now on my way to nowhere. Where are you?
Free Verse 141 Words
Our true existence is in a subtle realm
and as above, so below, we here in form,
with the voice of conscience always at the helm,
having chosen with laws of God to conform,
do not let cravings of ego overwhelm,
invoking in its place, a benign bliss storm.
The trick is to connect with our higher Self,
sans desire letting life just flow by itself.
Be determined, put your game on,
take it up a notch, jazz it up.
Get into character, be your own best self.
Rewrite your destiny,
draw your path and follow it.
Be fearless and audacious.
Let your imagination run wild,
you are the hero of your life story.
Feel free to fake it till you make it.
Be bold, be grand, be awesome.
AP: 3rd place 2025, Honorable Mention 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
To discern the truth transcending space-time,
befriending silence, we entered the void,
where emptiness was filled with bliss beat’s chime,
revealing soul’s light, pure and unalloyed.
“The silence faded with a soft embrace”,
leaving in heart love’s benign after-burn,
that as God’s grace entwined us with vast space,
our presence reached the point of no return.
We saw our Self, shining as living light,
being that which is in God’s image made,
with each node of form dancing with delight,
we saw far more than for what we had prayed.
The seeker who once sought, does not exist ~
All of him that remains, is a bliss mist
"She looks just like you!"
They say, and I beam!
But they're saying much more
than their saying seems…
For I'd never say to her
what I constantly say to me…
("You don't measure up,
you can't be enough!
You're ugly, you're stupid,
just keep your mouth shut!")
My mind in shock,
my heart so hurt,
To even think about speaking
so harshly to her.
So, a good lesson learned,
to see me in her eyes…
I will love myself more
and not criticize.
Their smiles beamed, for they dreamed together,
sharing Barbies, goodies, and even hands.
Aware of my aloneness, it seemed I wasn't there;
even Brown Bear didn't understand.
Staring into a disquieted mind, I sulked my secluded self.
Translucent tears stained my face a pale gray,
as bleak as rain clouds, blocking sun's reach.
Furrowed brows, droopy cheeks, and thin lips
transformed me into a monsterous beast.
Is this hideous, shunned image who I am?
Affixed friends would glow and float into true beauty
like sun painting the beach.
Their smiles were like whispy horizons, eyes glazed like sand granules, feet gliding like waves to the shore.
Are the pretty girls worth so much more?
3-6-2025
Picture you inside your mind
who you are and what you find.
Your image did not develop overnight
long and slow did your self image sight.
The picture is not in another mind,
what they perceive or what they find.
That image of who they think they see,
is not what your inner self might be.
Imposed by others, data may flawed be,
Your inner self they can not see.
Parents and peers, trauma and tears,
All shape self image through the years.
Picture you inside your mind
who you are and what you find.
Ask yourself if this picture is right and true,
is it exactly what God above says of you?