Long Self actualization Poems
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No antihistamine can
unblock the lifetime
accumulation of stoppered emotional gunk
zapping, undermining, and polluting *****
mine early life in retrospective avast flunk
stripped mined wasteland qua sinkhole,
where eternal reverberations soundlessly plunk
inescapable deafening, and
blinding this targeted
"scapegoat" bullied by most every punk
wrathful verbal sucker punches,
whereby yours truly habitually shrunk
within himself, yet self actualization
predates how severe
introvertedness doth debunk
the penultimate prevalence that mean kids,
albeit cruel, fiendish, incriminating
ganged accomplices further sunk
this then boy careering
into an abysmal funk
crashing into bajillion pieces
with soundless silent thunk
pitching mental health
(actually entire self)
analogous to comatose
state losing a chunk
of vital growing up years,
when upon reluctant
commencement into early adulthood
debilitating chafing
against self destructive
(mailer daemon) nemesis did brood
apathetic degree of functionality crude
delivering punishing perception,
now this older dude
writhes with lament oft times exude
ding self hatred, especially during
critical years, I denied myself food
never reconciling how affliction
cost development good
and plenti stunted development,
when scythe ying grim reaper donning
trademark black hood
dee metaphorically pinned toothpick
lovely bag of bones fragile as breadstick
easily crushed by madding publick
crowdsource, that slip of a cowlick
my excruciating body electric
demolished with figurative flick
of wrist now shutters hermetic
vacuum sealed "prison" brick
an invincible fortified bailiwick
walled in invisible steely fortress
hardest and most resilient mucous thick
against any wrecking ball.
The anger of the male is a pale truth
The purpose of the male is a broad spectrum
Yet he has abandoned the cure for self-actualization!
The male's anger is deeply concealed
Often it is linked to his past or some event and
This cements a layer of anger that remains long with the male!
Too many males are angry
A lot of males did not get love from their father
Men today don’t know their purpose!
Their anger comes out in frustration and
Some men carry their anger quietly
Until they explode and do something drastic!
A lot of men have concealed fear
Because they don’t know what it is to be a man
Hence, domestic violence comes from resentment
So many males transfer what they feel to other people!
This is a dilemma the male faces and
In the end, the male abandons the spheres of society!
The anger of the male is a pale truth
The purpose of the male is a broad spectrum
Yet he has abandoned the cure for self-actualization!
Mark Frank
Copyright 2022
Perche Sono me II.
I interact with the blues because I feel sad and I am alone.
The blues are an expression of my internal feelings.
My biological needs and psychological needs are in a constant state of dueling.
My biological needs are pulsating.
My psychological needs are in a strong state of defense.
My biological needs are very powerful.
They want to spring a new bio.
So powerful that it hurts the three components of my life.
It feels like only a visit from the reaper could make them go away.
These needs are powerful and must not win.
You ask me “why don’t you just follow your biological needs?”
Why do you continue to deprive your body of what it wants?
Would you deprive it of food and water?
Truthfully, I am conscious and will not follow in the footsteps of some of my friends in
the past. I do not want to make the same decisions that they made and realize my
mistake(s). My biological needs will not deprive me.
I deprive my body of these needs because I must continue to go forward. A short
break of a few minutes may end up as a divine comedy for a long time with no smiles.
Food and water are vital to the sustained notion of life. Procreation and non-
procreation in a sexual environment are ok, but it is not meant to be the controller of
life.
My psychological needs are more important to me.
Self-esteem & self-actualization are at the top of the pyramid.
My physiological needs are at the bottom
Praise Allah for Maslow
My mind is more important than my body
My mind wants me to go forward and never give up.
I must follow my dreams and not the wishes of the undercroft.
Finally, I say to all of you this is the reason why I am single
I want to be with someone that connects with me and I with them.
I am not looking for an easy person.
Too many of the doves are brown and sound like quails.
I am looking for my white dove with the voice of the hawk and the majestic tranquility
and beauty of an eagle in all its beauty.
I have not found my phoenix.
I will not die because I live.
“Cowards die many times but the valiant taste death once.” These are the words of
Julius Caesar to his wife Calperna.
With this quote in mind I will move forward and I will do it my way.
Maslow was and is still right.
“free from conditioned belief
no agenda on our shelf
vibrant as the light of Self
life flows on all by itself”
Love of raw self is liberating
It is a beautiful thing to esteem
Self actualization is emancipating
Flow within it as healthy blue stream
Tis no accident you are so unique
Wonderfully and fearfully made
Whether in youth or as an antique
Soul you’re in your designated space
It takes all kind of pressure
To make a precious diamond
Often inside we feel amber alone
That’s when we can find HIM
The Curator of our heart of art
The Potter making us pure souls
We are the product of a gracious God
Even if we don’t really yet know
Ignorance can be a bouquet of bliss
Until life becomes bitter and sour
We then find the Creator’s holy kiss
Of love in our most needed hour
The lucky find this in yellow youth
Some discover in maturity of ages
There is no time limit on teal truth
Reflection is in our hearts and faces
When you have a cranberry calling
No agenda you surrender to nature
The path provides like pearls falling
From holy scriptures by saintly Savior
Humbled hearts have no vanity
For fire and life has purple pruned
And despite lavender life’s insanity
We become like the flowers bloomed
So trust the Lord and His process
Life flows on all by itself every day
You are a work of His hazel holiness
Keep this fact in your heart silver safe
Sometimes we look to closest friends,
Expressly those who think we're ace:
Let them confirm our worth but still
Forget, inside us lies the proof.
Actualization calls for a
Command of strength and keen logic
To shape ourselves, at last, to get
Unknown rewards on our plateau.
And with revealed goals, we take a
Lone journey through heart and soul
In our quest...a long safari,
Zestfully seeking life's pizzazz,
And a fruitful new arena
That hones our talents as our gift.
Inner joy promotes stimuli
Of further searches, that lead to
New trails of self-completion.
Sandra M. Haight
~First Place~
Premiere Contest: Self Actualization Double Acrostic
Sponsor: San Woo
Judged: 11/13/2016
I'm not sure when you left,
but my guess is, it's been a process
from the beginning.
Maybe the moment you left heaven's presence
you longed for its essence,
and left unnoticed?
Or was it when your freedom fell,
taken from the grips of hell,
and all it taught you to believe about yourself,
and life?
Or maybe when the one you
felt could change all that,
did change all that,
and left himself?
So, so did you?
Or, was it when your dad left?
Or maybe when the very definition of God
was crushed under betrayal's menacing vengeance?
Your dependence on yourself was your downfall,
you know.
And now, there's no feeling left at all.
The more you left,
the more I was left wandering,
left wondering,
how to find someone who desires to remain in the shadows
Let's play a game, shall we?
It's a fun little number I like to call
"Do I miss you because I love you,
or because you're my brain's scar tissue?"
Let's review the facts, shall we?
You're a spoiled NEET who took pleasure from my pain
From making me bend over backwards
And watching my free will vanish
Like a parasite, you latch on to everyone
Begging for gifts and food like a child
Passive-aggressively plotting when you don't get your way
And everyone gives in to get you to shut up
By all accounts, you're a horrible person
So tell me why, tell me why
Why do you still haunt my dreams at night?
Why does the thought of losing you still hurt me so?
You're like heroin
Because man, doing lines of you through the night
Was the greatest high when the trip was fine
And the comedown was so fierce
So here I lay, sweating yet freezing
Dope sick and hungover after the greatest afterparty
Craving another hit to feel the ceiling again
Gently gnawing on my twelfth step chip
But you weren't always that way, you know
The love we shared was once pure
And each day was a blessing that I'd give so much to return to
And I think that's the you that I miss
But hey, that person died two years ago
You wore her skin so well that I didn't realize
That I still had a body to bury
Before you skinned it and wore it
More often than not, it's the pure memories I recall
When I'm clutching my phone with my thumb above the send key
And another withdrawal pang hits my temple
And jolts my thumb to the clear key
So where are you now?
I can't imagine I'm in a much better place right now
Eating my fourth cup of cup noodles tonight
Poring over a broth stained essay
It's comforting to share a pitiful existence with you
Because in a weird way, I feel more connected with you than ever
Sharing a loving, tender kiss across time and space
As we both scoop the last shrimp from the bottom of the cup
But each cup leads me closer to my dream
As you stagnate at home
Self-actualization is a difficult concept to measure
But your NEET dream dies with the last of your savings
The sun rises and the glare from the screen hits my eyes
Another frosty December morning
Through the sight of the rising sun and the scars you left behind
For now at least, you and I are forever intertwined.
Spontaneous is my grasp on a world endless-
Every new ability learned and created teaches me,
lessons in life and I see my beautiful,
flowing life with potential- weatherproof.
And each new poem I write is, a
curve, turn and step gigantic,
undaunted I just write and write impromptu-
At times my poems are written from a different era.
Like-minded people love my poems abysmal,
imaginative and sorrowful, and even at times Sci-fi.
Zealous, I write all night with my head abuzz,
and my pen dripping magenta-
Tattered are my memories bittersweet,
internal my soul finds words illuminati.
Obsessed often with deaths of long ago,
never-ending I write- a girl growing but still a bit broken.
__________________________
November 4, 2016
Poetry/Acrostic/Self Actualization
Copyright Protected, ID 16-846-113-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Self Acualization
sponsor, San Woo
Ninth Place
Soul knowledge grown thru emotional searches
Eclipses vain ego perches attempts to take charge.
Living should be large from our soul’s core will,
Feeling joy thrill and pain spill, gilds soul’s sheaf.
Allow belief to trigger your spiritual agenda.
Cite déjà vu’s antenna as your eternal soul almanac
To map your experiences predetermined tract.
Ultimate feeling feedback pens your spiritual rondeau
And develops its flow to your truth knowledge area.
Live as the God of your criteria does to you reveal.
Increase your understanding, lest a dealing shanghai
Zealot such as fear, ego or greed tries to take your pizazz,
And stinking thinking unrhymes your soul’s stanza.
Take time to contemplate coolly and truly think about
Iambic thought perfection to sprout your spiritual illuminati.
Oblige the soul-memo heavenly angels constantly demo,
Nudging the human faithful to spirit freedom in Eden.
No rocket surgeon,
nor brain scientist called upon
but only Rudolf the red nose reindeer
solicited as psychological mentor
yes...undoubtedly countless
decades removed since *****
(not very gay at all!)
bodily changing phenomena
from thine angst riddled
biological metamorphosis allows me to peer
with greater theft of mine precious youth stolen,
via piercing overbear
ring mailer daemons,
when mine tender age did near
cusp whence onset of puberty
clapped development tight as if by
a doppelganger mutineer
warp and weft of mine lifetime tapestry
mine acute perception doth lear
as threads got tightly woven
into mine casual knitwear
though pubescent phase
wrought with oppressive foresight
interwoven with jeer
ring bullying hmm...maybe thine ability
to distill self actualization
extant among interlinear
teenage stage viewable
during my youthful days, but clouded over asper
mine more vivid perspective here
from this present moment
ha...amusing insight from present perch
devoid of adolescent glare
sire re: brill grade
do lobes gleam freer,
now with insight aye ear
rate at such pitch 'ere
perfect hindsight aye declare,
yet as a much younger self
when I hapt to be a boy, acuity seemed oblivious
to perceive via sight and sound
what social cues visceral, (visual,
and audiological) seems crystal clear
revisiting non verbal
awkward teenage mutant
ninja turtle memories, that now deafeningly blare
at the threshold of ear
splitting decibels, how hard of hearing human
(nada so) subtle in retrospect, I am aware
interpersonal nuances clear as the tune
Doris Day Que será, será
did voice, a catchy air.