Long Self awareness Poems
Long Self awareness Poems. Below are the most popular long Self awareness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Self awareness poems by poem length and keyword.
Neither insecure nor arrogant,
A balance that’s hard to maintain,
But with effort and reflection,
This path can be forged and sustained.
Insecurity can consume us,
A monster that eats away our core,
We doubt ourselves and our abilities,
And fear rejection at every door.
But arrogance is not the answer,
It’s a shield we put up to hide,
Our own doubts and insecurities,
And to keep others at bay outside.
So what is the middle ground,
Where we can stand tall and proud,
Without the fear of insecurity,
And arrogance’s judgmental shroud?
It starts with self-awareness,
Knowing who we are and what we need,
And not comparing ourselves to others,
For we each have our own unique creed.
We can acknowledge our strengths,
And embrace our weaknesses too,
For they are what make us human,
And show us what we can improve.
We can be confident in our abilities,
But humble in our approach,
And recognize that we are not perfect,
And there is always room to grow.
We can treat others with kindness,
And appreciate their worth,
Without feeling threatened by their success,
Or putting them down to prove our own worth.
Neither insecure nor arrogant,
A balance that’s hard to achieve,
But with self-reflection and compassion,
This balance we can receive.
Thinking, deciding, and cuddling all muddle flow.
I'm not a wiz; I solve, yet my riddles, I know
My thoughts and deeds, like an artists', are creative.
My reflecting and planning are liberative.
Should dews of hope be erased by beams of despair?
Should my compassion change as per seasonal air?
There are unconscious courses in my mind and soul.
Like webs that fuse each fleck and speck into a whole
Nightmares that slaughter peace within the inner shrine's core
Feeling that, like birds, above the skies of mind sore
Impulsive admiration of flimsy beauty
All this progress as though a soon-to-do duty
Love, happiness, forgiveness, compassion, and trust
Collide with loneliness, helplessness, and disgust
Self-awareness, like a breeze between tempests, struggles
Between beliefs and doubts, there are silent rubbles.
While sour dualities of good and bad exist
Isn't there, between each straight-seeming path, a twist?
Birthday feelings
Another year is back no longer can leapfrog this day
Where my body squeals on me from time to time
Melanin, flawless, caramel skin transparent
for you to view my friends,
Face ageless, mind intone to my compose poetry,
Every Nano second counting down to dust,
By the grace of the almighty:
The loud notification bell rang the old familiar tone,
From my well-wishers, on Facebook, and WhatsApp,
The thousands of unwanted gray hairs cover my silky black,
to match my aging face as I jokingly play around with my camera
My smiles seem to match well with my reassurance
of knowing that l am going to be alright today,
the loud notification keeps on coming,
I am releasing a happy energy
called I am alive and doing great
I have reached the good old age of ....
Here I am once again, unscrambling the word birthday,
Happy birthday to me.
copilot
Reflecting on our lives during birthdays holds a special significance. It’s a moment to pause, look back, and take stock of our journey. Here’s why it matters:
**Gratitude: Birthdays remind us of the gift of life. Reflecting allows us to appreciate the people, experiences, and opportunities that have shaped us. Gratitude fuels positivity and contentment.
**Self-awareness: As we age, we evolve. Self-reflection helps us understand our growth, strengths, and areas for improvement. It’s a chance to assess our values, beliefs, and priorities.
**Life Lessons: Birthdays prompt us to revisit pivotal moments—the highs, lows, and lessons learned. These experiences contribute to our wisdom and resilience.
**Setting Intentions: Reflecting helps us set intentions for the year ahead. What do we want to achieve? How can we align our actions with our aspirations?
**Celebrating Milestones: Each birthday marks a milestone. Reflecting acknowledges our progress and celebrates our existence.
So, on this special day, take a moment to look within, appreciate the journey, and embrace the next chapter. ????
2of30
When I stopped
taking Sertraline
again,
I felt too much
all at once
including
a cacophony
of anxiety
I hate to acknowledge
that even I
need a little help
to get by
I didn’t choose my mind
in the lottery of life
I decide what I put
In my body,
everyday
grapefruit juice
for health,
avocados
because
I love
their shade
of green,
and meat
because
I crave
meat
what I choose
to put in my mouth
directly affects
everything
all my little,
daily outcomes
don’t seduce me
as much as you,
sexy Devil
little pills can do so much
I don’t want
to tap dance with the Devil
when I should be sleeping
Shortly after the Internet discovered itself,
I set out to be an explorer; not of land and water,
but a finder of the odd and peculiar.
My first inclination
was to search for antiquarian artifacts,
but lacking the knowledge of said artifacts,
I thought to be a ‘picker’ and a junk collector,
or even a mildly addicted hoarder.
Knowing little of buying and selling,
and next to no space for storing anything,
I had to re-think the whole exploring business.
Lacking funds to travel far,
I commenced to explore myself.
Having only a limited aptitude for self-awareness,
I sought the aid of many spiritual agencies.
Lacking the sensitivity to receive their help,
I turned to drinking and writing poetry.
Lacking anyone else to blame but myself,
I determined to blame the Internet,
especially Internet Explorer.
A mother's hand trembles
as she brushes a tear from her eyes;
while watching her awkward child
standing all alone, forgotten.
As others, in their budding self-awareness,
catch glimpses as they run by, playing
at their games and life.
They were too young, perhaps,
to appreciate that difference will
often foretell brilliance, that genius
sometimes hides behind
shyness, and strength within
softly stammered words.
Instead, we often feel we must march
to the same annoying drum beat,
speak the same exhausted phrases,
and think only empty thoughts
to feel connected. While left alone,
the one who's different
finds contentment in tending
a garden of his dreams.
Perhaps he should have come to this
life a little later, when humanity
might have learned acceptance
of those unlike themselves, and
tolerance for minds greater than
their own.
But, for now, there'll be derision
as insecurity outruns compassion
in the human race. Yet, as sometimes
happens, the awkward one, rejected as
a playmate, is now extolled by many
critics for his masterpieces.
And we gaze in wonder at the loveliness
of the unique.
(A lone voice whispers)
Have you emptied your soul late at night
All alone
Wrote words to lay on top of the white marble altar of poetry's grey tombstone
If you have
You're not one of the crowd who follows fashion and directions from secret social conditioners
For in that hour of self awareness
You embrace something so magical
While in that quiet solitude
Alone in that room
Solitude
Not to be confused with loneliness
For you are surrounded by The Spirits of the Twenty-Six Letters
Who waits for the call to start swirling
Seeking rebirth on paper
Or other forms of scrying mirrors
A new life for eager eyes to see
To maybe treasure
From land or sea
Wherever they be
And to you
Death will never conquer, for your words will echo like ringing Christmas bells
Into eternity
In the Vast Halls of Apollo
For in time
All poetry is constant and collected
In a great never-ending room in the Akashic Records
The Past
Future and the Now
Hum to drums playing pagan tunes of happiness and sorrow
For the hordes to read poems at their leisure for pleasure
To find just something they need in whatever they read
So fear not
Rejection or criticism
Fear not
Judgement or lament
For the gift you share
Is heaven sent
Passed down like a golden trophy from The Spirits of Twenty-Six Letters
From the gilded Halls of Apollo
In a gentle breeze
For they can feel your intense need
Sweeping down their misty plains and green wild hills
Like the last charge of Genghis Khan
For them to answer
With hidden scrolls
Filled with clues to write poetry
To satisfy the thrilling call of illuminated souls
Seeking
Jouissance
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Noun:
Jouissance
Physical or intellectual pleasure, delight, or ecstasy.
Source:
Google.
Self-awareness is very important for me
to perceive and understand things, matters,
issues that come up that are important to me,
in using my senses, experiences and beliefs.
Sometimes when I’m in my psychological state,
focus on myself or in the state of self-reflection,
I remember how rundown I was for many years
and how feeling rundown would come and go.
Some of the rundown episodes were very difficult,
like feeling you don’t want to do what you need to do.
You just want to leave everything, everybody you love,
to start over again someplace, where nobody knows you.
Sometimes the silence is so deafening, like irritating noise
that you want to run away from while covering your ears.
You are just so tired physically, exhausted emotionally,
sick of almost everything that is so mentally draining.
You just keep going, going through the motions like a robot
because you must, but deep inside you just want to escape,
be free from work, responsibilities, obligations, just for a while
to take time, a break for yourself, recharge and be back refresh.
Those years of discriminations in various positions I held.
Those years of being a single mother, raising the children,
making sure they had a roof over their head and food on
the table and maintaining and taking care of the finances.
Those racial issues, family issues, financial issues could put
a toll on your body, your spirit, your emotions running you
down physically and could be burning you out mentally.
Being rundown is not easy, but your will can put an end to it.
what …
defines a soul?
self-awareness?
religion?
God/s or deities?
scrolls and scriptures?
or just the recognition that we are
capable of spiritual things?
what is that spark in
the eyes of “lesser” creatures
that gives them their singularity and nature,
and what angels have we become,
that we can decide what or
who is to make that distinction?
is it the perception of understanding or emotion?
is it kineticism and light?
is it the acquisition of words and language?
or could it simply be the ability to FEEL,
and apply those feelings
for actualization and change?
is a soul defined or acquired by
superior intelligence -
a specific level of reasoning?
and if so,
what becomes of these
considerations when AI surpasses
the intellect of humans??
(a very real prospect) …
in this frightening, magically wondrous world
of discernment and perspective -
opinion and belief,
where ‘soul’, ‘spirit’ and ‘love’
are tossed to the breeze like confetti,
there is a truth, glaring:
there will ALWAYS be questions,
there will NOT always
be …
answers.
Copyright © 2023 Gregory Richard Barden
They say fantasy is in the wind
But I can see it everywhere
We’re all chasing empty beauty
And that’s before the bubble’s pop
Reality is just complex delusion
Too successful to taste freedom
Thinking we’ve lived and loved
Because that’s what we are told
But what if it was just control
The only truth was in my dreams
Nothing real or what it seems
Imagination dies.. children cry
While the wall is being built
Locking us in, can’t feel the wind
Love locked out.. fear begins
We don’t give it a second thought
Distracted until we go blind
Entertained to the slaughter
Like our parents before us
And we think we had a nice life
They called it real, it was fantasy
Pure love danced right past us
In the wind and in our dreams
It was never the fantasy
Freedom was and will forever be
Inside the mind what you can’t see
While they fight to keep control
The only truth is in my dreams
Nothing real or what it seems
Imagination dies.. children cry
While the wall is being built
Locking us in, can’t feel the wind
Love locked out.. fear begins
Still, passion rides the wind
Dreams are my reality
And if somehow this isn’t...
Never wake me up!
~Lyric Man
Note: A rainy, melancholy day set the mood to pen this “R & B tune” that talks about the farce.. so many call life. Imagination is chased out of children until childlike wonder is extinct. The blind lead the blind into empty lives while love rides on the wind of forgotten dreams. Fantasy in many respects was the true reality, but we are conditioned to miss it. From our youth, society builds walls to “protect” us, but in truth they in-prison us. We lose our awe of senses, including self awareness. Our lives get diluted into septic pits we are conditioned into thinking is normal. An we are being entertained to distract us from the approaching slaughter. Society rapes our innocence, robs our freedom, and hides us from daring love. And the mindless masses sleep walk to their grave. For most people, by the time they are 40.. their most “real” moments are in their dreams. And on this rainy day of dreaming my only fear is waking up and being like the real world!