Long Self awareness Poems
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Contrary to popular myth, Einstein did NOT reject the existence of Time, but he did reject the differences of its elements, stating that "the distinction between past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion" ...
TIME ...
Is a phantom with many faces
It drifts, a blotchy mist from our early years
The cognizance of self-awareness like a patchwork quilt
Most memorable moments shining like warm sunlight
Mundane and everyday, a foggy swirl, as we slowly become ... ourselves
Memories splicing together like a movie in our mind ...
We learn and experience, as the images from memory clarify
All flowing like a rill to who and what and where we are
It is an invisible, ghostly yardstick
Chopped up into segments that we build actuality around
An ethereal inchworm, crawling at the pace we allow it
We watch it, breathless, wondering what branch it will take
What it will make or show of the now or then or later
It is beastly wraith that controls and objectifies all we do
We are powerless before it, yet we worship it with our every heartbeat
It is a monster in the dark
A horrid creature under the bed, waiting to grab our ankles
And pull us into the bleak, oily black of oblivion
It dances in the dark of night
Wearing the skin of our hopes, and the mask of our dreams
Laughing at promise like a mad moon laughs at the tides
It is a demon, immutable and brazen
The unchangeable mirror of our mistakes and pains and decisions
Thumbing its nose at our cold conscience
And yet, it is an angel, too
That carries on its wings the brightest of thoughts
The joys and loves and friendships that sustain us
Bright sparkles on the wave tops of what was, treasured and golden
And though we strain with all our might and marrow
We can never touch those many faces
For no sooner have we gazed on its visage than it has turned away
No sooner do we see it approach - smiling, waving, affirming
Than it has flashed by us in a swirl
It is our god and our devil
Our hope and our despair
Our villain and our lover
The keeper of our consciousness, moments and prospects
Our precise measure of what can NEVER be measured
And the universal spirit of existence
That will never, ever ... exist.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Writing Challenge 3, July 2019 - List" Poetry Contest, Dear Heart, Judge & Sponsor.
Thru deliberate seductive
liaisons, ploys, and underhanded gambits,
I tendered illicit, explicit and complicit shenanigans
blatant actions to foment coital adulteration.
Ofttime these discrete liaisons found me removing
linkedin metallic keepsake symbolizing union.
Years elapsed since this spouse pledged his troth,
he sported husbandly marital vows courtesy
monogrammed nondescript ring.
Impossible mission prevails to locate complimentary
jeweled tokens bespeaking our joint monogamous fidelity.
Yours truly beset with genuine disheartened woe
no matter public affections, he never doth show
thee above stated guilty admission signifying
mine absent overtures
(indicating even marginal wedded bliss),
the missus posits as wanting from me,
a common garden variety generic Joe Schmoe.
Self awareness heightened
within mental cogs and wheels
as if of a sudden hindsight brought
into sharp focus think barely audible
high pitched squeals
nsync with and accompanied by newsreel
silently displaying story
(solely my viewing pleasure) of mein kampf
metaphorically yours truly blown to bits
while hoisting myself by own petard
vigorously spiriting and
pitching me head over heels.
Regale thee dear reader,
I strive with utmost zeal
plus cathartic to expunge, (albeit poetically)
my pathetic, quixotic,
and reasonable rhyming spiel
hoopfully mine lame literary endeavor
won't upset any spur of the moment meal
thus tis wise I beat a hasty retreat
before ye sic on me Achilles heel
versatile scouts i.e. English language
verb boss and noun sensical police,
yours truly here expert escape artist
dog gone hard to grab hold,
cuz I trumpet art of making the deal.
Proclaiming high fidelity to wife high wed
she already with child (our first)
into holy matrimony we did nervously tread
"quod erat demonstrandum"- Q.E.D.
"what was to be shown" courtesy yours truly
this once upon a time
(about two and a half dozen
Earth orbitz ago) time newlywed.
Now he frets and experiences woebegone
as testimony scratching out
yet another one of his plaintive,
quirky, somber, ridiculously shown,
herewith I attempted to communicate none
previous endeavor ever considered exemplary
yet I diligently, honorably,
and literally try to hone
elusive talent hours daily
hermetically sealed, and sequestered alone.
For millennia, our race has lived a vast success.
Hatred, envy, spite, and strife are on the rise.
Despair, aggressiveness, self-centeredness.
Depravity, intrigue, lewdness, vanity, despise.
Hubris, a lack of self-awareness, and trickery.
Aristotle's five components have been corrupted.
Air, water, earth, and fire are no longer ancillary.
Humbly wished to stay alive rather than dead.
When I think back on all I've been through, it all seems insane.
There doesn't seem to be any way for me to heal.
Even if I tried, I'd never been able to reach or even get obscene.
On a detail level hit, I was wounded in the deepest part of my soul.
It seems clear to me now that my fate was set by my disputes.
Before it was too early in the process, I tried tentatively.
They've formed outflow and false analogies without any roots
When I had all the talent and drive, I regret not doing it smoothly.
They think they will be able to detain me after a full investigation
They make me feel scared with all they perform
I demonstrated to them that they could inflict pain and dejection
They're alleging in the flood that they lied about the game.
As a leader, I cannot assert that logic will guide my word.
They exhibit how to rule for the benefit of their family.
They did, however, get the human falsity award.
They're simply playing badly and misleading the community.
However, it's excessively various to decide.
You dared to contact that one strand.
You aren't aware when you alter your face.
It turns into such a terror-like experience.
It's going to last a period, you accept.
For the first time, you've been right.
It's the unique last time indefinitely.
You were harmed, and you stumbled struck poorly.
It felt agreeable yet surprising.
You said that you felt humiliated over increasing.
Pause for a minute to consider; it appears it's an act of futility.
When it got back to sobbing in the downpour, the storm faded away.
This time, everything had changed after much sorrow.
You never know when one door will shut, and another will open.
All the regime crashed, and I'm now being hailed as a hero.
Life is a journey, not a destination; without patience, no gain
Written: June 29, 2021
A broken person Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Faraz Ajmal
Caught in the snares of a night divided between the sacred and the profane,
where the stars seem to whisper forgotten secrets, I find myself in search of truth,
on a journey that parts the veil of self-knowledge,
where every tear of light, every shadow
reveals fragments of an esoteric existence, woven from fragile hopes and deep doubts.
Religion, like Freud, bears the burden of a difficult mission,
like a torch that illuminates the abyss of our fear of self-awareness,
for self-knowledge is man's hardest task,
a risk of revealing how his self-esteem was built
on the power of others, in an effort to deny his own creatureliness and mortality.
Character is the vital lie, a veil that conceals
the painful ambiguities of our likeness to worms,
as well as the divinity incarnate in our being,
and people deny both their creatureliness and their divinity,
to live peacefully in the world, fattened by illusion and comfort.
My stream of thoughts flows like an underground river,
where every idea is a wave that digs deep into the banks of consciousness,
and I get lost in the labyrinth of questions, where every answer
is a riddle that exposes how fragile man is,
a creature warring with its own destiny, rejecting the truth
of creatures and gods in the vast dispersion of existence.
On the land of this night, where moonlight filters through leaves
like an elixir of delusion, I find myself seeking meaning
in a world that will dissolve into its own paradoxes,
in a perpetual struggle between denying fragility and desiring transcendence,
a battle between dualities, where each victory brings a new burden,
and in every defeat, a growth.
This painful ambiguity is man's path,
a road paved with shattered dreams and divine aspirations,
where every step is a tribute paid to the illusion
of being more than a mere creature,
and less than an omnipotent god,
watch as every breath is an ephemeral dance
between the fear of the unknown and the desire to soar.
In a world abandoned by certainties,
where truths are but rejected shadows,
I begin to understand that our only refuge
is to embrace complexity,
to accept ourselves as both trivial and divine
walking on the edge of eternity, where illusion becomes the safety net
in a vile universe, full of fallen stars and dreams lost in the silence of the night.
I SEE YOU AND I ARE. ONE
I see you in the new day
I see you in the sun
I see you in the beginnings and even in the end
I see you in my journey
My travels big and small
I see you also in me
For you and I are ONEA beautiful and profound poetic expression of unity, connection, and oneness!
Evoking a sense of depth, intimacy, and shared humanity, reminding us that we are all connected and part of a larger whole.
Unity and oneness: "I see you and I are. ONE"
Connection and shared humanity: "I see you in the new day...I see you in my journey"
Interconnectedness: "I see you in the sun...I see you in the beginnings and even in the end"
Self-awareness and introspection: "I see you also in me"
Inspiring interpretations
Let's celebrate the unity and oneness that exists among all people.
Reminds us that we are all connected and part of a larger whole, and that our individual journeys are intertwined.
All Father inspire us to cultivate a deeper sense of empathy, compassion, and understanding, recognizing that we are all reflections of each other.
Also encourages us to engage in self-awareness and introspection, recognizing that the divine is within us and that we are all part of a larger cosmic whole.
Reflections on this
We take time to reflect on your own experiences of unity and connection with others.
We so cultivate a deeper sense of empathy, compassion, and understanding, recognizing that we are all part of a larger whole.
Remember that our individual journeys are intertwined, and that we can learn from and support each other.
Engage in self-awareness and introspection, recognizing that the divine is within us and that we are all part of a larger cosmic whole.
3/18/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2024
Scriptural reinforcement:
- Genesis 1:27: "So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them."
- Psalm 139:13-14: "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well."
- Galatians 3:28: "There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus."
I've always showered
care on ungrateful trees,
the ones that bloomed
and the ones that withered.
I watered them anyway.
In this chaotic world,
compassion is made slavery,
chained with entitlement
and false lovebites,
yet my tender heart
endures through the raid
and self-inflicted questions
of why I have to succumb
to an endless tide.
Sometimes in regret of why
goodness chose me as its heir,
I flip out, leaving the throne empty.
Though I wage wars not to be
kind anymore, I find myself retreating.
In the end, it is nature's course for me.
But should I drown in empathy
that l lose my mind? My use or
willingness to set boundaries
and say No when the shoes
don't fit my legs? For I have
been in the watch house
without looking. It took me
courage and self-awareness
to glare beyond the boiling surface.
I washed my eyes in
discernment and worth,
to dive past the silent suck.
I befriended clarity and in her depth,
I learnt to work with both minds.
For kindness doesn't exist to
drain me but help me find my path.
So I dished portions of bitter
sour soups to users and
drummers without rhythm,
Just to test their intent
and they smiled at its
sweetness.
They would forge a life in
death just to drain the
remaining water in my
well. I let them go in
thirst because there's barely
a drop left for me and my heart
has now tested the rough edges
of the valleys and the shape
of my eyes have been born anew.
So conscious, it wouldn't flinch
if dust was thrown in it.
And the lovers that used to ride
on my patchless boat, they have
now drowned, since the engines only
worked in the purity of their needs.
It is not I that led them to
destruction, It is their greed.
I offered them bandages still,
I showed them the path,
I directed them through the journey,
I didn't go with them else they would
make me lose my way and distract
me from the gold mine in front.
My peace has never been this full.
Full of happiness and Bluebells.
I am a Watchman that sees
through the dark forest and
I shall live a long life setting
those standards.
Still an heir to the throne
now I sit with an eagle eye.
My soul in good deeds
will never be used again.
The facade you subconsciously display--Is making a mockery of your beloved EGO.
While In your mind your rich...
Choosing the path of Denial is a hell of a way to GO. What you KNOW, they’ll never KNOW... Never ever KNOW-- How when the sun sets on Sunday you hang your head LOW.
Your emotionally caged--You are stunting your humble GROWTH.
This Perception of your POPULAR MOLD. Where you come across apathetic and COLD-- Is winning the battle with your TRUE self--Where you sympathetic and BOLD. And to know you is to tell you..The Things you’d rather not be TOLD.
--That you must be genuine,honest and LOYAL--.
--That a happy soul is only possible--When life is void of TURMOIL. Chaos is no longer ROMANTICIZED;And days never end With resentments or LIES.
Check out the other side of the TRACKS. This is where tranquil Self awareness resides.
And Where truth and acceptance will FOREVER have our BACKS..
-'Never look BACK--.
Like a wise man once told me; “The presence darling.The presence is where IT'S AT.”
innerpeacestartnow143
Having loved ones is an incredibly comforting feeling, but when you enter the vast
landscape of the mind and see only depression and despair, you become aware
that you are alone in your misery. Clinging to the last threads of sanity It feels as if
you are spiraling into a bottomless black abyss.
All sense of responsibility, joy, hope, drive, ambition and any concern for life are
gone like a whisp of smoke. There is no comfort offered when looking deeply into
who you are. Everything that you once held dear seems so pointless in the eternal
perspective of time. There is no escape from the futility of it all. Will I make a
difference or at least be a descent human being. If I do, what difference will it
make. Countless times have I looked into the never ending realm of insanity and
longed to leap into its welcoming arms. I can think of no greater blessing than to
lose one's capacity for self awareness.
Would I fall for all eternity or through the destructive force of madness find
normalcy. It all seems so hopeless. Some say life passes so fast that you should
cherish every moment. But, living out the drudgery of each day seems an eternity to
me. If I focus hard enough my minds eye sees exactly who I am. I have a self
loathing, over burdened, depressingly active, mentally challenged, sarcastic, twisted
thinking process. Process usually indicates order. Not in my case. My mind plumets
into a cold unfeeling wasteland that sends me into fearful fits of confusion where I
am overwhelmed with unrelenting incomparable anger. I ponder an escape , but I
realize I am destined to wallow in the company of despair and futility for all eternity
and deservedly so. Then it finally dawns on me that through my foolish decisions
and self destructive actions I have fulfilled my mission in life to be a stench filled
mass of human waste. I grieve for those who know the loneliness I feel when
journeying into the depths of the seemingly twisted internal machinations of my
mind. It is the only place that in all respects you are truly alone. I no of no other
place where hopelessness reigns as it does in the deep recesses of who I am. It
makes me wonder if I might be God's only mistake.
I am a master in my eyes, a master in disguise. So cleverly concealing pertinent feelings of thoughts, one's intrusive dealings, that are boiling my insides. A wizard behind a curtain, that’s how this all feels. A brick road made of corpses, with one's past life’s dealings preserved, paved and sealed. A heart, a brain, and courage are the lesser of my wants. Something I truly desire is to be free from all the standards that are expected of me. To simply have the ability to understand the world as a whole, instead of society’s pressure and expectancy of things that shine organically. I know Diamonds are produced under mass pressure brought on by their surroundings. I refuse to walk with people who claim to have hearts, when their actions show other, and their minds think in one-digit parts. I sometimes wish I could just click my heels together and poof, new start. Just trek on, over stones along my path. I can’t help but wonder, if someone is pressing buttons and pulling strings behind a curtain and all that, yeah it sounds crazy when you say that out loud. Sometimes I feel that it is that, for certain.. somehow. All these Pictures of my life and the stories that they tell, have now become tortuous memory prisons, tiny painful cells. So, I won't hope for more memories, no new energy, no thank you. In fact, I'd like it if there was a wizard behind a curtain somewhere. It is almost comforting to know for certain somebody is pulling strings, removing human beings from the remaining veil-covered living we are dieing to exist. Yet still, our existence we squander. Aimlessly following a road shamelessly, no self-awareness, just people playing contrary-to-action, games with questioning. I don’t want your heart that is made of stone, or your brain which is composed of birds nesting sticks and air alone, and what you consider courage is like a rat in a tiger’s home, fear coats him and only fear alone. I am not mad at what character past plays that you've been casted, because honestly your past warped acting and idea of what is, has made the brickroad a path truth seekers take comfort in. A road to somewhere, no one really knows. A journey to a curtain way past the light, covering a being who says what goes, what is certain, and what is right.
In the search for the meaning of life, we are born in the shadow of conscious death,
An echo of the spirit, of our introspective and questioning gaze,
Under the weight of the end, we weave religions and philosophies like spider webs,
In which the thread of our life extends, like the light of a falling star.
But the crafted meaning is as fragile as dandelion fluff in a changing wind,
And we live with growing fear, our souls vibrating in dissonance,
The stories we weave become the shackles of our ethereal dreams,
And we spend our days trying to be shadows of a vast imagination.
Our lives become specters dancing on the stage of our minds,
A theater of shadows and lights, dreams and delicate chimeras,
Under the moonlight, in the gardens of time, we seek reflected answers,
In stagnant water mirrors, deepening the mystery of an unattainable truth.
Beyond cosmic silence, our hopes burn like stars on the horizon,
We try to decipher the enigma in an existence laden with shadows and light,
Happiness takes ephemeral forms, like stars reflected in deep waters,
And in this dance of melancholy, our masks fall, leaving our souls bare.
We are born in mystery and slide into the eternal unknown,
In endless quests, we understand only the fragments of a cosmic puzzle,
We cling to fragile tales, building sanctuaries from hollow illusions,
For it is only our soul that dances in the night, seeking extinguished answers.
In the temple of thought, we sculpt meanings that seem infinite and elusive,
We are but ephemeral figures, shadows of wandering lights,
And the forgotten poet of destiny, with his pen of gold,
Opens paths in dreams, always seeking the essence of a truth hidden in the stars.
Thus, we venture into this endless search,
A tribute to self-awareness, a symphony of lost souls,
We lose our identities on the altar of endless desires,
And find only fragments of light in the gaze of the vast blue.
In this way, the search for meaning becomes a journey of dreaming shadows,
A song of pure melancholy, embroidered on the fabric of secretive time,
And in the end, we discover in the deep silence of our hearts,
That only self-crafted meaning gives us wings to fly, in the sky of boundless dreams.