Self Consciousness Poems | Examples

Who Let The Dogmas Out?

Reason rests upon faith
I am not into fideism
I'm not a fan of the Enlightenment
Or a Cartesian  prison
Mr. Naturalist if you please
Show me where laws grow on trees
Or where numbers hide
And propositions are seen
So you believe what you see
Has anyone ever seen
An abstract entity?
Unbelieving scientists
Obscure and fudge the truth
All the theories they've put forth
Drowned in primordial soup
Liberals say anything goes
Then attempt to condemn a belief
That's as silly as a kleptomaniac
Claiming not to be a thief
Existentialism
Seems appealing
Equate God's thoughts
It has no meaning
Thinking God's thoughts
After Him we are commanded
In chance and luck you'll be stuck
Leaving you intellectually stranded
So how do we account for counting?
Is it antecedent steps of doubt?
When we experience epistemological self-consciousness
We can ask "Who let the dogmas out?"

Relationships with Doctors

Relationships with doctors
Can be awkward, even though
You discuss the same old problems
Every time that you may go.

Yet if you have a physician
You have seen for many years,
All self-consciousness and tension
Somehow quickly disappears.

He’ll remember all your symptoms – 
Be they serious or not – 
And will take his time explaining
What you have or haven’t got.

There might even be some jokes about
Appointments in the past
And you realize that you’re lucky,
For such bonds so rarely last.

As my other docs retired
Or switched practices on me,
I feel grateful I’m connected, still,
To my same old G.P.*

*General Practitioner

legacy of Hilda

Hilda is the opposite of shy; she is not hiding in any way.
She flaunts her stuff without any self-consciousness.
She knows she looks dandy and prefers skimpy clothes.
Other farmers' wives adore her, they do not care.

She can walk down the train track with barely a stitch on.
No one makes fun of her, because it is Hilda and she is special.
She is friends with everyone and builds people up, in a genuine way
They gravitate toward her like puppies, wagging their tails.

A Deranged Game of Chess

I used to think I wasn't equipped to handle heartbreak,
But it seems like that's the only thing I'm good for as of late.

I'm not sure what changed or when all my walls came crashing down,
Leaving my heart vulnerable to my intrusive thoughts as they go round for round.

Forget a suit, have the blacksmith forge a heart of armor,
As I wait to see who delivers the final blow, causing their opponent to falter.

Calculated risks becoming flawless counters to gut feelings wrapped in luck,
A deranged game of chess, my thoughts the knight, my heart the hopeless rook.

A lose-lose situation defined by mental illnesses and past traumas that go hand in hand,
My head is filled with mixed thoughts and my heart with intrusive emotions that rendered me unable to take a stand.

Bed ridden by my self consciousness and lack of self esteem,
I utilize my resources and create worlds through my words that I know no one will read.

"Healthy" coping mechanisms are nothing but a glorified suggestion,
So I will continue to use metaphors and similes to help me handle my depression

Whatever Happened To Jordan

Wisdom, like the endosperm of a coconut, evolved,
Jordan developed in his self-consciousness day by day;
Though vices around virtues, like the galaxy, revolved,
He, like the Magi, keenly discerned and chose the right way.

Boyishness, as the rind of an orange or plum got peeled,
Fruitfulness in him, like wheat grain formation, peeped its head;
How lovely our once naughty Jordan's true self got revealed!
All those unchurched unaware identities he had shed...!

His son grew up like a pearl in a progressing oyster,
Scholastically and leisurely he's trained without fail;
He gives him freedom too; he's not a monk in a cloister;
Though naughty like his father, he grows up hearty and hale...!

The storm that blows violently can change into a breeze,
Who says a beast running about can never be at ease...?



18 June 2023
Whatever happened to "Jordan" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Miranda Hawley

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

the awakening again night sweats wet sheet 
a cold damp room filled with gloom screams 
wails sighs distant cries the war on the mind 
has began all over again passing through 

enemy territory life exploding like bombs 
quieting thought mere panic send familiar 
waves throughout your body gun shots loudly
rang out the soft beating drum of your own 

infant heart beat takes over wires surround 
your womb deep inside hostage situations 
the calmness gathered beneath drenched 
covers from the trenches of a mental break 

beating down your self consciousness while 
fight flight abruptly arrive to rescue you the 
sinking helpless feeling of darkness overwhelms 
you while you recite i matter an yet the enemy
 
is invisible taunting teasing tampering with your 
inner most peace ripping brain matter tasting 
blood of traumatic events severe violent hardship 
your body trembles your mind captured you quietly
 
lay there helpless asking where is chaplin where is
red cross you are alone within your own rapture
heart pounding pill box fall to the floor mental 
health treatment on the other side of the door

Seeing Her

I have been there, and seen her
The darkest parts of myself which hide in the caves of my soul

I have been elsewhere, and seen her too
The most joyous thought covered in dreams and filled with hope

I have been everywhere, and seen her
The deepest darkest yearnings of my heart

I have seen all of her, yet I am lost to her
The viscous gnashing of self consciousness

I have seen all of her, yet I am confused by her
The over gracious application of mercy

I have seen all of her, and I know her
The heart that overflows with empathy

I have seen her
I know her
I am her



15 lines of poetry
1/6/2023
Contest: ‘2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 24’
Sponsor: Mark Toney

Song Imprisoned

Song imprisoned

      Lone musician
     engrossed to play violin.
    Resonance ripples
    on prelude to interlude.
     sinking in self consciousness.

     Self-oriented!
     Releasing emotive urge
     in joy and sorrow.
     None to share, none to listen.
     Rhythm of tune to glisten.

     An enlightenment:
    An ethereal ecstasy:
    Self satisfaction.
    Alone artist enjoying
    mystic morose melody.

     Lone bird imprisoned
     in cage stoops being drowsy.
     silent, no whistling.
    It has forgotten to sing,
     dreams of open sky in vain.


10/27/22

Image no. 3         word count < 165

Painting Prompted

 Contest by Lisa YY

Ronnie Colyer My Hero

Picture day a day that I from self consciousness detested
add to my gap toothed grin wild eyed and unrested

In first grade sitting next to a handsome young man in a suit
Bouncing along on the bus ride motion sick to boot

The stress of the day tipping the scales on me
and his closest pant leg

Humiliated my sister rushed up his pardon to please
Kindly beg

He put his arm around my heaving shoulders
And said
You couldn't help it honey,and against him lay my head

Home permed ,disgruntled ,with stain 
on my dress
This young man's kindness I can attest

Went well above and beyond as did my breakfast

New Life

Vanity and desire innately compulsive
distort the ethos of obdurate ego,
conditioning the vision to look at others,
for self-consciousness turns opaque layer.

Divine intervention in life reborn,
shreds the strata of opacity,
plain self-image escapes egocentricity,
gets transfixed within empathy frame.

In the hued horizon of the new life
the nascent sun of adoration rises,
paints all the pining hearts
with the perceptive colors of love.

_______________

July 10, 2022
Contest : Ego Shorn, Here Now Reborn
Sponsored by : Unseeking Seeker

An Understanding Towards Self Consciousness

The flow of the river gives a sound.
The tone of the sound 
Is little sweet or noisy.
The song of the Cuckoo gives a sign.
The hope is still alive.
We must not get crazy.
The Sunny sky over the head.
It give us strength and inner peace.
We will not be faded away.
The gossiping among friends gives a sign of love is into Us.
The quality made from support each other. 
We will not be broken anyway.
Our life partners will always be with us.
They are half soul of our body.
Together we will overcome every sorrows.
Our parents are always be our well wishers.
They can be selfish for our safety.
spent time with them so they do not feel lonely.
Our teacher's are our true path finder or Guru's.
So respect them and love them.
They made your virtue and erased your bad habits.

A Piece of Mind

It's mine
give it 
back

Common Threads

Collective self-consciousness,
the well where I draw
old voices and struggles
lie deep in its craw
What’s shared but unstated,
reflexively pawned
to borrow ungiven
the right to what’s wrong
Collective self-consciousness,
polarity’s friend
unspoken meridian
between fact and pretend
To wait in the memory
of what’s yet to come
released by the moment
—humanity won

(The New Room: February, 2022)

Naked Dreams

Free from inhibitions
No more shyness to prohibit
The spirit’s intensity 
From bringing extreme
Intimacy

Free from embarrassment 
A shining example of passion
Awakening the power
Of sensuality’s caress across
Hearts

Free from any hang-ups
That might have been reasons
For never letting go and
Allowing abandon to capture
Informality

Free from the rose blush
Of shame, bringing doubts
Reflections of anxiety and fear
Conclusions that harbor worrisome
Reservations

Free from awkwardness
Without humiliation to graze
The naked dreams that penetrate
Deep within the one who knows no
Disgrace

Free from discomfitures
Without pride or egotisms
The whisper of inspiration from
One who listens to the song of spontaneity 
Thriving

Free from self-consciousness
Dancing in the rain that accomplishes
More with it’s melody of lingering songs
Than any concert created by the one who is
Censored

Skelf Explanatory

So-used to emphasize a clause or negative statement

I-the subject or object of self-consciousness; the ego.

Wrote-past tense of write

A-used when referring to someone or something for the first time in a text or conversation.

Poem-a piece of writing in which the expression of feelings and ideas is given intensity by particular attention to diction (sometimes involving rhyme), rhythm, and imagery

That-referring to a specific thing previously mentioned, known, or used to emphasize a particular thing or animal mentioned.understood.

Explains-give a reason so as to justify or excuse (an action or event)

Itself-used to emphasize a particular thing or animal mentioned.

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