Self Immolation Poems | Examples

An Illusion

We are a species gnawing at the roots of existence, hellbent on self-immolation, our every endeavor a funiculus of futility. The argent legacy of our forebears, squandered by imbecilic hands that molded us into hollow effigies, devoid of essence, yet rictus-grinning with vacuous ignorance.

Fear, the petrifying shackles that bind us, rendering us ciphers of compliance, indentured servants to the whims of the elected elite. We toil, mesmerized by the tintinnabulation of trinkets, and the numeric abstractions that promise ephemeral solace, but deliver only eternal enslavement.

We are fallen titans, parasitic echoes of greatness, our nebulous dreams reduced to flickering embers, as we succumb to the siren's song of servitude.

Worst of all someone is reading this right now thinking I am gloomy and need to smile, but can’t say I am wrong, my question to you is, your joking right?

For Aaron Bushnell

Inevitably, tears of love, of sorrow,
tears that stem from my heart, flow
whenever I think of your sacrifice,
the ultimate payment of a high price.
You were a principled, brave man
who refused to budge from your plan,
one that would shake a nation, the world!
Watching the horror left my soul whirled,
shattered, shaken, sad. You deserved
better than your fate which all unnerved.
Thoughtful you are even though you’re dead,
asking permission to have your ashes spread,
if the citizens would allow your last request:
in a free Palestine, liberated after conquest.

Cognitive Dissonance

1.Supari intimates because he can.
3.Supari is not scared of laws long hands.
4.Action is taken only against poor batterers.
5.Underworld Don fuukk garls on daily basis.
6.Judiciary absolves itself of the responsibility.
7.Apathetic and callous attitude of Police officers.
8.Police collude with Supari to cover his crime.
9.Victims try self immolation due to the threats.
10.DON Supari believes that he is superior.
11.Supari thinks that women are sax Objects.
12.Mafia Boss sees women as sax slaves.


Premium Member The Sun's Self Immolation

The pale faced young damsel
By evening turned into a blushing bride
Her cheeks made red with rouge
And her lips glossed in cherry red

But the makeup artist, before
Seeing the magic of his deft touch
By some sudden mental derailment
In a bid at self immolation, 
Set fire to himself

Badly burned by the inferno
He plunged into the waters below

One more attempt at suicide?
Or a frantic attempt to save himself,
From an act, he impulsively rushed into?

Yet another question remains
‘Can flames turn him to ashes?’
Or water, drown his resilience?

July. 15.2022
A Brian Strand Premiere Poetry Contest

Self Immolation

You can destroy yourself 
When you allow emotions rule you 
Especially when you are being manipulated

Struggle

Mundane, I Ascend and duel. The impulse to use, sentiments of self immolation. The barbaric psyche that perforates thru my perception murderously. 

No berth to go, no region to disguise. Amity is pertinent!


Premium Member Nelumbo Nucifera

he was sick of the racing stripes on his automobiles

a modern-day Buddha in his garage full of himself

and vintage cars of classical acclaim and chrome

had become nauseous at the mere site of his Lotus

decided to live like the monk who sold his Ferrari


ascetic instead he would attempt to move mountains

traded his bicycle for begging bowl and orange robe

roamed the streets like a vagrant off his or her trolley

eventually sold his puncture kit for a can full of petrol

and considered his enlightenment by self-immolation


the service station attendant had other plans however

a beautiful woman with olive tanned skin and a bindi

‘you don’t have to emulate Siddhartha to find the path of

the third way between all or nothing greed and starvation’

she whispered and gave him a lotus flower from her heart
 


29th December 2020

Nelumbo nucifera is the botanical name of the lotus

Dreaming

I once dreamed of you.
I remember the sun shining on your beautiful face smiling at me.
As you walked away.
It seems like the world stopped living and everything in it died alone.
I felt loneliness and unhappiness since that day, you vanished away from me.

I fell into despaired and recentful, you not known, my true love for you.
The days and nights go by tremendously vastly.
Enormously I drifted insanely mad over your absentee.

Exceedingly I cried dreaming of you in someone else arms.
I self-immolation into the cold crystal emerald ocean, dreaming of the time I perceived you with my eyes.

Crush

I’m not writing this for you, silent intemperate witness
 the same rain paints your canvas but lifeless
 self neurosis constricts and binds rainbows
 from adorning walls of crashing acidic lies
 Honesty laced with empathy, is it that hard?

 Crushing waves of apotheosis, honour and kin
 the only traits noble of hominine sacrifice
 left on broken blood soaked shores of lassitude
 The web glues all whether you like it or not
 lighting up every cell to stimulate interior growth

 Reawaken to the facts and reconnect, everything is waiting
 opposite the shores of occupation and self-immolation

Sacraficee of Love

For your lips/ I bartered my kiss
For your tongue/ I Relinquished my breathe
For your touch/ I endowed remnants of my soul
And for anything else you captured what I had left.....

Each time I was with you pieces of me died....Pieces of me died
I could of probably withheld.and likely survived
But just to be by your side....The pieces of me died
Babe...I laid down and I died

What a jaundiced and distorted love I know
Yet I willingly continued to unfold
And give everything I was
What was the point?

Because I am no more..
No less than the deceased
You not only remember no you and me
Not a trace of me is lodged in your memory.....

Nothing in the world to you meant everything to me....
self-immolation, at its worst....
Physically im in tact, emotionally.....
I carry my own hearse.

A revolutionists of ones self
I annihilated myself
To prove to someone else...
I was worth more than their heart felt.....

I died for someone else
I am a hero of selfishness
An abstainer of sustainment
A suicide of ones self.....

I am a sacrificee of love....

Before the Burn

Quietly quiescent
unable to see 
your own flamboyant flammability 
the arcane knowledge 
of a spark's quintessence 
lost for too long 
too late 
the tender tactile flames
candles of ambivalent amber
that lick at burning skin
are casting luscious light 
calling it love 
when it catches you 
when you are set aflame 
then with bittersweet hindsight you know whether 
you will be the one that's reduced to ashes 
in assured self immolation 
or the one to dance in the embers? 
will you pray for an intercessor 
or become the blaze?

Wake From a Dream Ten Word Challenge

The clowns danced the band played what a flamboyant sight and sound they made.
Luscious lady's parading their amble wears  ambivalent to the men's stares.
A clown got a bit to tactile and  swiftly received a clout round the ear. 
An arcane organ then plays a bittersweet tune and a clown sits down to cry.
He clasps his hands in prayer an intercessor between man and god.
But it seems god was quiescent and proves quintessence he not of this realm.
My faith broken I commit self immolation and pass into the light
and then I wake, I really should stop taking drugs.

comp entry 02/11/2016 ten word challenge

Rolling Stones

Between the sun and moon 
you come to transcend 
the frescoes on the sky 
for a lost chance.

It fuels the anxiety.
When do I meet you 
in dark to explore the 
lightning rod.

The inside enemy will 
allude to self-immolation.
Where will end the 
agony of man ?

The carnage continues 
unabated. The crowds are thinning.
Lurking men on fimbriae dump the veils.
Who will invite them today ?


Satish Verma

Implosion

Untimely.
Illegitimate.
           I will not ask 
           for an apology.

The hymn
started too early.
           The dust had 
           settled on the lens.

Imitation.
Not real pearls.
            Your words do not
            convey the thought.

There was a
long distance –
            between your lips 
            and my self-immolation.


Satish Verma

Spaceship

As I drift along the cosmos
taking eons for my thoughts to osmos.
Here’s an idea that might sound ALIEN,
just show some MOON to keep from failin.
Originating from a place called Ur-anus,
not a PLANET but designed to contain us.
Try converting your STUN GUN
to ignite the methane for fun.
You’re destined to be a galactic STAR,
by keeping those cheeks ajar.
If you try this poetic dictum
don’t explode or you’ll become a victim.
You need to arrive sans detonation
uncharred by self-immolation.

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