Self Esteem Poems

Seeing Cylon posting again got me all riled up in my literary blood. I thought I'd post a few poems I wrote, that all about self-esteem, self-worth, and keep strong in convictions. (Okay, except for Romantic Amnesia, which is just random.)

Something to note about these poems, I wrote them around the time I was going through my most recent troubles at work. I hope you enjoy them. I am not attached to any of the titles at all. I just always feel about showing people poems that aren't titled. Enjoy!

Bad Winner

To be a sore loser is no great feat,

but few understand

the certain kind of melancholy

that comes with victory.

A vanquished foe,

in repose, sculpture of a fallen Gaul, a cephalophore,

so lovely in imagination,

never as nice in real life.

For with victory comes guilt,

and fear,

and that moment you realize your foe is human

                which

you suspected all along.

No one looks as pathetic as they do in defeat,

and blood is much more difficult

to wash from your skirt

then the daises you were busy

collecting.

Romantic Amnesia

I don’t recall that moment

when we fell in love,

                but darling don’t be offended.

I’ve a terrible memory

for dictators.

Complete

Sweetness, it seems,

is not the only part of me.

Nor the darkness,

Nor the anger,

Nor the niceness,

And caring heart,

And bleeding soul,

Or the scythe I keep in the closet

                (just in case, just in case).

No, it seems I am not divisible,

cannot divorce the gorgeous from the ugly,

                moral from malevolent,

                nice from vicious.

Perhaps that’s okay,

                the blossom that grows in the bone yard

                is all the lovelier for it.

And the bone yard will protect it,

as it grows.

Dawn

Today, I am steel.

Confusing, perhaps, (I was smoke yesterday),

                but today I am decidedly un-ethereal.

I was love, yesterday, a fountain of light,

                but today. Today, I am

unshakeable.

Solid as stone,

Thick as thorns,

Strong as the undercurrents

                of oceanic trenches.

Yesterday,

                I was wilting.

Today,

                you would be wise

                to tread on soft soles.