We feel a call sometimes
To be sublime or kind
To think we can find
the right path aligned
With our close knit group, devine
We pass the time pointing at opposite side
Throwing a fit, claiming they're not legit
I submit to a higher power that I've claimed as my own
prone to fits of self righteous rage on a stage of my life
In time i might improve
In time i might remove these moments that blind and misguide me
The only way i see clearly now is to answer the call i feel.
we’re here and all else is out there
as long as ego’s manifest
but in staid silence when thoughts rest
of our true Self we’re then aware
to hold our awareness as such
enraptured by love’s bliss beat chime
oblivious to flow of time
is the path where we learn by touch
unreal is all that we see
and so in truth we don’t exist
save as consciousness a bliss mist
which as we become we so be
with no desires left on our shelf
nonchalant to thought forms that stream
viewing earth life as but a dream
we dwell always in light of Self
I stumbled straight down by surprise,
To laughter and widening eyes-
But I jumped to my feet,
Made the misstep a beat
and waltzed as the crowd cheered my rise.
I tripped and stumbled over my big feet
While walking down a very crowded street.
With laughter I arose
Assumed a dancing pose
Then tripped the light fandango really neat.
MINT, my favourite herb, sharp yet sweet
Invigorating, cooling, balancing menthol beats
Nautical it tastes, flavouring salads or pasta neat
Tantalising sensation, delicious for bodily treats
As i listen to the thoughts, I see that they're not my own; They're not my kind of company, the lowest type of tone. I'd rather not speak back to them, or follow where they roam; I'll watch them from a'far instead; Behind the safety zone.
I missed the target; So I took another arrow, pulled back the bow with all my strength, and aimed it at the centre. Thoughts of vengance blew it off course; I missed the target; So I took another arrow, pulled back the bow with all my strength, and aimed it at the centre.
It would have found its home, if not for passion. I missed the target; Feeling unworthy but determined, I took another arrow, pulled back the bow with all my strength, and aimed it at the centre. This time I hit the target; By meausure of the arrows which lie on the ground, and the ones which hit the target, i saw my true level of progress. I saw I was still a novice.
Just as you would suppose,
Unleased hatred only grows.
Do lash out, I’m sure you’ll see
God gives this freedom to you and me.
Mind your soul to heal the hate.
Enlighten your path before it’s too late.
Note your actions and words, if you will
That your hate will ever be still.
All that anger held inside
Leaks from within, not outside.
A single pill rests on the counter--
quiet, small, almost polite.
I told myself it would stay that way.
But days grew thinner,
hours frayed at the edges
and the quiet promise began to hiss.
Friends laughed. I nodded.
My reflection wavered in the glass,
someone familiar yet gone.
The pull was slow - like water eroding stone,
soft at first, then urgent, unstoppable.
I chased the calm it offered,
unmindful of the shadows it left behind,
the nights pulsing with my heartbeat,
the mornings hollowed and quiet.
One day, I reached for air instead...
for the sharp taste of morning,
for voices that held me without judgment,
for a hand that said;
“You are not this. You are still you.”
Healing does not arrive in a flare.
It creeps softly, day by day
teaching the heart to see once more,
to taste the colors that were dimmed,
to carry the weight of the world
without letting it break the soul.
resting in subjective awareness pure
one without a second, we alone are
living light eternal and heart demure
all worlds are within, not somewhere afar
we dwell in space-time as also beyond
our pristine essence is subtler than space
we are the gong Om to which we respond
we’re both giver and receiver of grace
we are the darkness, we are the sunrise
untouched by contrasts, we alone exist
we conceal then reveal to feel surprise
all hearts pulsate in us as a bliss mist
not this or that, we’re consciousness itself
both the stillness and movement kinetic
we’re the undivided non dual Self
we are love and light, our heart magnetic
know as false, all worlds that are manifest
the pulse dual is but an illusion
thought forms swirl around but we are at rest
as luminescence free from delusion
one candle can light another
without diminishing itself
the light of God thus lights all lights
including the light of our Self
The thundering pain
The fills my bones
Skin stretched right
A razor blade
Drags out
Never digs in
Can never quite reach
The itch within
A bit of introspection can
do wonders for a troubled heart.
When nothing else can help a man,
a bit of introspection can.
To ask for light is better than
denying truth God might impart.
A bit of introspection can
do wonders for a troubled heart.
I am not quiet,
Not easily forgotten,
Yet somehow
Still unseen.
I feel it,
In the bones of my being,
This weight of being
Unappealing.
Not the kind
You’d walk toward.
Not the kind
That draws eyes or hearts.
It’s not like me
To say, “I hate myself,”
But sometimes,
That silence speaks louder.
Strangers
Faces I’ve never met,
Mouths that never called my name,
Eyes that never really saw me
Still, they judge.
They know me better than I do,
They say.
They define my shape,
My walk,
My worth.
And so, I wear it.
Their truth becomes mine.
And you
You’re beautiful,
Unique,
Undeniable.
You can see me.
I cannot.
And though it’s not like me
To admit this ache,
This shadow inside,
It is still me.
Still here.
Still hurting.
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In speaking California
Somehow people live with them
I am alive again
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Specific Types of Self Poems
Read wonderful self poetry on the following sub-topics:
acceptance, confidence, dear, determination, esteem, future, harm, hate, identity, inner, love, note to, personality, reflection, sacrifice, worth,
and more.
Definition | What is Self in Poetry?
Poems Related to Self
automatic, ascetic, autonomous, narcissistic, subjective, autogenous, automatous, autonomic, endogenous, narcistic, myself, character, individuality, person, ego, identity, personality, narcissism, personal, egocentrism, psyche, individual, identical, own, selfhood, substantive, individualization, oneself, proprium,