Long Self image Poems
Long Self image Poems. Below are the most popular long Self image by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Self image poems by poem length and keyword.
CASCADES
of anguished
brilliance
appears
to be shared
with the self-aware
&
vulnerable
unsuccessful
but
provides a
self-image
in
multiple ways
with
complicated
intentions
&circumstances
thoughts&
touch
a single
state of mind
each
leave their trace
a personal style
all played
out
on a
small scale
derived
from looking
at the face
in shadowed
interplay
a transition
surrounded
& faded to nothing
in a disconcerting
way
between self
&image
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
Humid evening
Hot air and disease;
Flu bug on parade!
Old age looks forlorn
My neighbour sits alone;
Keeps own company
Day turns to night time
Cyber sensations;
Wind blown haikus
My mother died alone
Late June last year;
Still, I see her face
Two poodle-terriers
Snoopy and Bear;
Canine matrimony
My dead father
In my mirror glimpse;
Startling son-rise!
Traffic jam scenario
Car number 5000;
Sporty impatience!
Lotus posture here
Waiting on no-thing;
Something happens
Morning Glory flowers
Climbers on the fence;
Noisy children play
Fifty floors above
Skyscraper joggers;
Evening escalates
Stranger smiles
Crowded minimart queue;
Awkward silence cut
Waiting lift crowd
Together yet alone;
Stress and strain percolate
Remember
To remember;
Happy ever after
Words cannot
Even tell enough;
Non-fat skimmed milk
Work hard
Diet plan;
Manage self-image!
Our great old man
Frail as bamboo charcoal;
May peace abide
Bright legacy
Warm harmony;
Sepia continuity
Ink my name
On rice paper;
Rain dissolves all
Not much
Not even;
Not enough
Words on electrons
Cyber storage works;
Password protected
Leon Enriquez
21 Feb 2014
Singapore
Old man is named for years gone by.
In this era, health can receive support.
The old man’s dull ears and eyes,
And lost teeth can be rejuvenated.
But an old man with feeble reasoning
Confuses both allies and foes.
Self-image as a historical king,
Reviving territorial ambitions.
Doctors cannot heal a wicked brain.
Old age forgets what has been said.
Forget the motto: Make love great again
Smith shopping is like playing the lottery.
Old age covets the assets of others.
Messes up Freedom and Dictatorship.
Looks down at the other leaders.
Followers who love you will depart.
I spoke those words impulsively,
I didn't think them through,
And now I disagree with me,
Knowing you do too.
We analysed at the same time,
simultaneously conclude,
Scrutinising my own mind,
disagreeing just like you.
What a stupid thing to say,
Is what you say to me,
Confusing if I say the same,
Even though I now agree.
I live aware but can't prevent
the impulsive words I speak,
I live with this embarrassment,
An everyday repeat defeat.
They say there's always one,
that one is always me,
And I guess what is said is done,
that is just the way it be.
Sorry if I am unpleasant
I speak truthfully,
unnecessarily and blunt,
beat them down beautifully.
To be honest I can't lie,
when I do I'm transparent,
so I live an honest life,
facing what the others haven't.
How can I hide my ADHD
when it's so apparent,
wear my heart on my sleeve,
resilience my talent.
It's all I know so ordinary,
I said before it is defeat,
not though more importantly,
worn down on repeat.
Some people who manipulate
steer clear of reality,
Denial first then stipulate,
weirdos reek of vanity.
They are needing this protection
against things I have overcome,
I'm the odd one out, the exception,
strength confronting things they run.
So yes I'm stupid blunt and nasty,
awkwardly impulsive often,
the spoken truth can be ghastly,
but fake's repulsive and chosen.
Project your self image as immaculate,
full of wisdom and intelligence,
skilled hindsight speaking accurate,
foolish symptoms and pretence.
I face the world that I live in,
impulsiveness is not my choice,
some fake the world they live in,
decisiveness in a lying voice.
At least I'm not scared to be me,
openly showing my personality,
never faking my identity,
pitying those act unnaturally
Why am I like this?
I ask myself this question every day. Why does my mind twist scenarios that swirl through my brain like the ballerinas I once idolized? It dwindles my confidence til what? I must remind myself that I am a beautiful smart person, full of potential yet I’m still ostracized and ruined. I must recount the days I feel like fluid on a crashing river bank. At peace with my surroundings, I stay true to my original path. Hoping I last to see the day I am praised for being me. Never faltering I see the end in sight, but wait! That’s just a mirage my mind has created to keep me running in the right direction. I’m stuck always prevented from creating the real me. My mind forces me to rethink that question. As I question my grasp on reality or is it all just another mirage set to trick me? I tick like a bomb about to blow and I’m sick, my self-esteem is feeling low.
Why do I appease others at the risk of my own self-confidence?
I must remember why I started in this convoluted mess. I must address why my stress has been through the roof with the tests my mind is creating. I must guess why I’m straining to find a breath in this jest that is my life. I must ask why my chest feels so tight with this feeling of spite against my own well-being. My fight-or-flight never kicks into gear while my self-worth is getting pummeled to the ground by the sound of my dwindling self-image. I am surrounded by nothing but silence while I might as well be flightless cause of these guises I am covered by.
Being anything but cold is rare for you.
Utterly and shamelessly aloof is but a default setting for you, although could it still be considered ‘aloof’ if it’s on purpose?
Too nonchalant to notice the people around to falling to pieces at your feet.
Too preoccupied with your selfish human desires to take into consideration the karmic tab you’re stacking up, and yet,
Even when you’re paying attention, you’re still somehow... not there.
Ridiculously obsessed with your self-image, just enough to tip off the start to your downfall.
Firmly believing your own lies is the reason you’ve successfully convinced everyone around you of them too.
Living out your deceit, fooling everybody into believing you could be a genuine soul, that you could be authentic – as if you’re a lowlife method actor on the brink of withering away.
You could not fool me, though. I saw right through you and your transparent wings, and you couldn’t handle being seen, oh, how very ‘dear in the headlights’ of you.
I knew you were cold-blooded,
But I never expected you to be a fraud.
An unseen lamp hidden somewhere
Someone kindles for you when you arrive
Unperceived it creates beam of contemplation
Illumines the pathway of your destined journey.
The free thoughts you create as mental fresco
The lamp makes it ostensibly self-radiant
Enmeshing your soul within the maze of ego
That designs the road you choose to travel alone.
On the way you pick up some flowers
Someone gracious blossoms for you
But you think these are epitome of self-image
Worthy of innate celebration in euphoria.
On the way you tread on the trail of thorns
You think you would pave a new track soon
And won’t suffer on the journey for long
But the perpetual torment lingers on.
The disowned lamp then gets extinguished
In depth of darkness you lose your awareness
The willful psyche clings to the sense of self
Getting confined within the bubble of illusion.
____________________
May 13, 2022
Contest : Bubble Of Illusion
Sponsored by : Unseeking Seeker
Environs are rainbow-colored, I had always felt,
Until an alternative perception is soon revealed;
Have I ever thought that midst all these a dappled scene dwelt,
Flamboyant and monochromic celluloid is concealed...?
Designs painted by the sun while peeping through bushy trees,
Harass of horses galloping in a cavalry realm;
Black-yellow-brown strips on the nectar-hunting busy bees,
Majestically strolling tiger in self-image helm...!
Peacocks, pigeons, sparrows, geese, crows, doves, and flower-peckers,
Daisies, lilies, marigolds, Amaryllis, and Hyssops;
Dunes and nature-made domes of deserts in multi-deckers,
Strips plowing through oceans, mountains, and tall baroque hilltops...
Features of Nature, each in its way, are divine designs,
Each dappled line is benign and each in decorum shines...!!!
08 February 2023
No one can make you feel old
without your own consent
You're good enough, just the way you are
The self-image is an expression,
on how you look at yourself
Age and love have no limits
The time gives us the opportunity,
to find and cultivate new pleasures
A heart that beats for classical ballet
Thoughts and driving force are enormous
You disappear in the moment,
and give yourself a happy day
When you are in a good mood
It gives you lots of energy ... regardless of age
06.06.2019
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
A little lipstick could not hurt.
But she was eight, and refused lunch after it was on.
She thought she was "fat" now, and she wanted to be thin.
I caught her wearing scarlet nails the Tuesday after the lipstick.
Her Daddy thought it was cute.
Her grandmother bought an eyelash curler
And false eyelashes for her at the mall.
She wanted a waist now, and boobs. She was still eight.
I threw it all away, but people sabotaged me, it all came back.
She stopped eating food at nine, pushing it around her plate.
Pretending she had eaten something.
I knew she had not.
Still wearing lipstick, and lots of eye make-up.
It did not make her look happy; it made her look sad.
It made me feel sad; I tried to talk to her enablers.
They told me I was wrong.
She stopped eating at nine. Saw herself as fat.
Wanted to be a fashion model; she weighed seventy-six pounds.
By ten she was diagnosed with anorexia.
An emotional disease that killed Karen Carpenter and others.
She weighs one hundred and ten pounds now.
She is five foot ten, and twenty-two years old.
She is in the hospital again, and they are trying to coax her to eat.
A little lipstick could not hurt? She was eight, and needed to be a little girl. I am beyond words now.