Self Centred Poems | Examples

Feline Foibles

I have a cat
(or a cat has me),
a furry cat, a very purry cat
when on my lap it's sat,
independent it is
(egotistical too),
yet demands attention
(self-centred through and through),
and when well-fed, its purr
(a four-stroke motor),
is full of condescension,
when behind its ears you scratch
(it's expected of you),
you may believe you heard,
“Meow, meow, meow,”
(sorry, here's the catch),
what it really said is,
“Me now, me now, ME now!”
And, as goldfish swims in bowl,
cat looks on with danger fraught,
thinking, 'So near yet so far,
that fish is food for thought.'

Lost in You

Im hairline
lost in the scent of you
delirious shared moments
yet under your eiderdown
lies a self centred heart
eagerly searching the next victim
I don't want to feel your pain
Id rather be a stream
that flats past your jaded chase
yet somehow prolonging my fear
you ve changed

Who to hail for help

When doubts rage, who to hail for help,
Lug own luggage, hail not for help.

Man has lost sage who might well help,
Saved savage, hail not now for help.

Self centred, man has if lost out  
In this age, hard to hail for help.

Created a sorry image,
Own damage, now hail not for help.
 
Hedging, aloof on alien’s edge, 
His own cage, who to hail for help?

If hopeless has turned his marriage,
A mirage, who to hail for help?

When life’s play is turning a page 
Right on stage, who to hail for help?
_________________________________________
Ghazal |05.05.2024| life

Toxic people

Those who come near him suffer,
due to his callous approach,
both fickle and self-centred,
radiating gloom.

Reincarnation

Mistakenly believing we’re body-mind,
we begin to trauma bond with our ego,
with fears and desires, gripping us in their bind,
transient objects we seek, we’re loathe to let go,
so as we become self-centred and unkind,
distanced from pulse of love and light, we sink low.
After death life review, shows us our soul’s stain,
so to repay debts of love, we’re born-again.

Looking For a Heart

I am looking for a heart
the kind that are hard to find
lost in the abyss of this
technological world.

I am looking for a heart
that are not metallic and mechanical
turned virtual robotic self-centred
in this facebook
and mobile phone addicted world.

I am looking for a heart
humane, made of love and blood
survived on human touch
and without needing
unneeded information so much,
just to be heartlessly smart.

I am looking for a heart
those simple and pure ones
that lived in the yester years
before we became slaves of this
artificial intelligence world.

(July 23, 2023)

To My Best Friend

I met you all of a sudden,
At a time when I had no one.
No one who could feel the inner me,
No one who could comprehend the outer me.

It was your ribbon that grabbed my attention,
Your innocent eyes spoke more that anything you could mention, 
The cutest sweet smile that you always wore,
Is that one thing about you that I will always adore.

We shared the same bench, 
The same way back from school,
Sometimes indulged in endless talks,
Not willing to take steps back for home walks.

A night lover met a day dreamer,
A Karate blue belt met a dancer,
An introvert met an ambivert,
But at the end you met an exceptionally crazy creature.

I was at times wrong with you,
And at an instance you needed me too.
I even grew self-centred perhaps,
But you were there for me always.

The best and most loyal friend,
Was the one I was searching for,
And since I am blessed with you here,
I'll cherish you in my life forever.

Ongoing Generation

Ongoing Generation 
    
        
          Human nature changing, hardening fast,
          loosing emotions, always in hurry.
          Affluence hits society in gust.
          Future demands more and more luxury.

         New generations challenged by ego,
         rushing, running, leaving close attachments.
         ‘My life is mine’ ! All others to forego.
          Self-centred aim, surpassing sentiments.
          
          Civilisation in rapid progress.
          on materialistic perspective.
          Science and technology to impress.
          Dealings dominate, feelings inactive.

          ‘High-living’ on ‘Plain -thinking’ in future.
            Emotional bonding not to nurture.
          
    05/18/23


Sonnet 
             First Place
Contest by Soto Poet

Peace Quest

Early days of childhood were carefree
Our joyous centred presence frolicked in play
Then we grew up and bound ourself to a mind tree

Tail began wagging the dog when desires held sway
A self-centred stance made our heart contract
In the labyrinth of life, we had lost our way

The joy heart sought, we clearly lacked
So one day we decided to change our routine
Internalising attention and forging with love a pact

Dwelling oft in silence, we regained our soul’s sheen
Bliss magnetism filled us as soundless thunder
Our sinful heart was now pure and clean

Deeming all souls one and none asunder
In thought rested awareness we were at peace 
Regaining lost pristine innocence, a magical wonder

Life is a gift from God, we’ve taken on a short lease ~
Be assured on surrender, our inner joy will increase

30-January-2023

Finding Peace Poetry Contest 
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh

Love In Love With Love

Searching for bliss beat’s rhythm,
we dive into our heart
triadic, where we choose,
first, a self centred view,
disguised as ego’s ruse.

Searching for bliss beat’s rhythm,
the shift from me to we
paves way for joy bubbles
to rise, as we embrace,
those with greater troubles.

Searching for bliss beat’s rhythm,
selective empathy 
transmutes as compassion,
encompassing all life,
that’s now our soul’s passion.

Searching for bliss beat’s rhythm,
we begin to dissolve, 
seeing God in each form,
whereupon bliss mists rise,
taking us by the storm.

16-December-2022

The Newspaper

Keep your morning informed 
With a piece of newspaper
Stay connected with the rest of the world
Besides your small confined self-centred world
Stay up-to-date with 
The critical news
The breaking news
The latest news
The in-depth reports
Like dropping a bombshell into a dull world
But news can't simply be surfaced
Without evidence of a witness 
Or some physical proofs
Or else it will be charged
But a piece of news after 
A long court case or a suspension
Is no more first-hand
And no more attracting
And a piece of news incomplete
Is no more a reflection of the truth
A piece of newspaper will gradually become 
A piece of tissue paper,wrapping paper or waste paper 
And the world will simply forget it 
As a past event or a piece of history 
The world won't learn any lesson 
As it is no more news by tomorrow

The Imbalancing Ruse

Fresh and serene droplets rest in galore
As the dawn smiles on them to adore 
The tiny prettiness in spectral mode
Downs from out of the heavenly abode ;
In dainty drips and drizzles   the elixir
Enlivens  and recharges the aqua-spur

Beyond the brim and out of norm
It sinks the floater and defaces the firm -
Mounds or  mansions,weed or tree
Huge or little - are all toppled free ;
Strange are the ways of the cosmic strain
Be it the  wind ,fire,tremor or rain


Atop the floating debris and decay,
The  self-centred biped strides astray
With a whimsy wand and febrile chill ,
Streching the  vicious arm for infinite fill
Of the precious trash ,never for any use;
Yet as ' trade ' -  the  imbalancing  ruse.

The Silence of the Trumpet

Trumpet call
And all down tools,
People who don't live by the rules,
Listen to these trumpets calls
The caller is a hypnotiser,
A cad and a womaniser,
He is also a billionaire,
Without any savoir faire.
Avarice and powerful too
He tells others what to do
The trumpeter is extremely bad,
Some people think he must be mad,
He keeps going on and on,
Committing crimes that to others are wrong,
Many followers of this man
Always agree with any silly plan,
That this deranged man expounds,
No matter how ridiculous it may sound.
They follow him like a flock of sheep,
His self-centred rallies make the educated weep.
Trumpeter claps himself when he is on the stage,
He dances to music to engage
While pointing to people in the crowd
As his followers cheer and clap out loud
Everything gets to a fever pitch
Like a circus without a hitch.
The trumpeter's power grows and grows,
His audience loves him; the louder he blows,
Then one day at one of these rallies,
A Bugler played the reveille
It was the necessary wake-up call
And the start of the trumpeter's fall.

My Parents Taught Me To Be

My parents brought me up to be
Self-aware,
Self-assured,
Self-motivated, 
So I could live with myself,
And choose friends who make me smile.



They did not bring me up to be
Self-centred,
Self-serving,
Self-promoting
So I could live in self denial,
And choose friends that are vile.

Armageddon

At a time like this, we need to remember
We can annihilate ourselves in an instant
A fact I think these aggressive war mongers
Don't get, their actions are so flagrant

They fail to see past their dirty big noses
These egotistical self centred maniacs
So scary to think we're totally at their mercy
Their capable of devastating attacks

The only thing stopping them I certainly hope
The realization the aggressor dies too
A totally senseless and barbaric act 
No one gains and everyone gets screwed

It certainly isn't me I'm thinking about
Happy with the path that I've taken
All those young'uns with their whole lives ahead
Must be constantly in fear of armageddon

Why must it constantly be on our minds
Since a child, it certainly hasn't been perfect
Too old to expect to ever see the day
When we witness an end to these conflicts

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