Swynya
Jaz sem z'ivc'na egocentric'na svinja
te zajebem na vsakem koraku
jaz sem z'ivc'na egocentric'na svinja
po svetlem in po mraku
in ni me sram priznat
da sem pretepel bogo starko
in ji ukradel 200 mark
Jaz sem z'ivc'na egocentric'na svinja
sem zloben da je grdo videt
c'e pos'teno ocenim zadevo
bi me moral kdo zapret
imam rad samo svojo mamo
in se pos'c'ijem na ostali svet
Svinja, svinja
song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
It's a business you go into because your an egocentric. It's a very embarrassing profession.
quote by Katharine Hepburn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Most of us are consumed with our own thoughts and desires and are not always thinking about what other people may want. This is not necessarily being egocentric; it is just being human.
quote by Bo Bennett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In order to be profoundly dishonest, a person must have one of two qualities either he is unscrupulously ambitious, or he is unswervingly egocentric.
quote by Maya Angelou
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All I care is that my family, and my loved ones, understand me. Or that they understand me to a degree - I don't understand me very much. And I don't need the world to understand me. That is the most egocentric thing.
quote by Andrea Corr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Humanity
It’s easy to know
that you know not
but then learn,
As it is to
cipher reality
but then discern.
It’s as difficult to
keep an open mind
and not to think,
as it is to
open your eyes
and not to blink.
It’s important to be arrogant,
self-conceited and egocentric
yet keep your humility,
As it is to be immune to feeling
and impervious to pain
yet keep your humanity.
poem by Dale Mullock
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Presek stvari u glavi
Kad vidim uspeh
Kad mi opet to dodje
Nebojsa ima svoj svet
On neguje svoju slobodu
I voli da motorom ode u prirodu
Bez kompleksa
Tata
Super je
Dete u meni
Tu neku vrstu duha
Pravog gledanja na svet
Kako dete gleda svet
Bez koristi
Ta fascinacija
I da sekundara nikad nije na svom mestu
Imam ljubav prema konjima
poem by by unknown author
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A Change Of Heart
I did not like him when he was alive.
So now that he lies dead, nothing has changed.
Yes, I know this sounds inhuman, heartless
Or call it what you like but I cannot
Be a hypocrite. I’ll not eulogize.
In life he embodied all that I’m not.
This does not mean that I’d wished the man dead.
Like I said, I disliked him, not hate him.
In a word, he was an unscrupulous
Man..that’s right! Devoid of all principles;
Contemptuous of what was right and just;
A self-absorbed, egocentric brute
Where few if any will remember him
Except perhaps me, may god bless his soul!
poem by Albert Ahearn
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The Great Encounter
The Great encounter
The mountains, that kept the sky from strangling us,
has all but disappeared. The sky has now swallowed
the roof of our houses. It is alarming, to be squished
between soil and sky as they embrace with selfish
lust in their hearts; finally intercourse. We must prise
them apart by building egocentric Dubai towers and
boasting Malaysian skyscrapers, to keep the sky pure,
and not let it sink into debauchery with mother earth.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Chump
He believes in magic,
something that's not real.
An egocentric plastic man,
a life led to be surreal.
He drowns himself in-
his narcissistic heart,
a cold dark abyss,
where loneliness rips him apart.
An excellent array of apathy,
absentee from all social connection,
a phantom based identity,
he's the ideal imperfection.
Ignorant to universal morals,
he may just be dumb,
though he lives his own life,
all he is, is a chump.
poem by Isaak DeMaio
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Peace comes
Peace never comes
The way you want
Peace comes only
Within you
If there is no desire
Within you
Peace comes only
If your movement is free
Free from attachment
Peace comes only
If your are not
Egocentric
Peace comes
Peace comes.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Greed
We are a greedy species more or less
Desiring more than needed frequently.
If something free presents itself, excess
Increases often exponentially.
Instead of taking one or two and leave
The rest behind, avaricious nature
Impels us, take it all! And thus believes,
It’s mine! To Hell with those that follow, your
Misfortune is not my regard. Myself
Is all that matters so what's mine is mine.
Though lacking scruples in and of itself
Becomes a selfish brute, his own design.
Beware! Of egocentric avarice
Your entry into heaven might be missed.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Misplaced confidence for M lady C.T.Heart
Although dreams can come true; they seldom do.
We are convinced this rule does not apply
to us. We will be treated differently.
Such is our egocentric point of view
So we believe the dreams which we pursue
could well come true. We see no reason why
we should not succeed if we really try.
We fervently believe we deserve to.
The old adage” Hope springs eternally
Does not accord with our experience
but we can disregard this easily”
although it goes against all common sense.
Dreams are not known for logicality.
So in our dreams we still place confidence.
10-Nov-08
Http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Poet's Choice
He was no longer concerned
For people who have chosen
To remain in the bottom and behind
For humbly to them he has spoken
But his words fell on empty ears…
He chose a new path to follow,
Leaving behind a world
Egocentric and full of fears
And decided to move forward,
Straight facing the Sun
Without going blind!
Now feeling secure and strong,
He let his words be carried
By the turbulent wind
Toward new horizons
And over his broken heart,
He built a new mansion
Based on Hope and Faith!
Wisdom embedded on him
Was humbly shared
With the new World
Just discovered
By making the right choice!
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Odd Coincidence
ODD COINCIDENCE
Christmas Day sees Russian rights restored
Opening the door for future new,
In hope, - although incertitudes do spew
New vomit in which drown the starving poor.
Coincidence it seems, and nothing more.
In days to come, however, when seen through
Our egocentric and short-sighted view,
Endless explanations will procure
Novel answers for this strange rapport –
Conflicting too, - equality may fall a victim to
Excessive swings of pendulum which new
Officials offer bribes or settle score.
Death of the Past before Mankind’s rebirth
May herald threats for the deprived on Earth
25 December 1991
robi03_0519_robi03_0000 SXX_JXX
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Quarrels
There's not much time. All the reasons to quarrel;
used up moments, and never you are right. life
Crumbles when we fight- why not wait to reason,
and then call your rights. Is a thing we all feel…to
win the quarrel against the other. What makes you
think you are always right- you’re full of egocentric
thoughts and lock of selfless. The mirror looks
back- not knowing who reflects. Full of it you!
You detest my opinions and speech, all my intensions
of deed, turn dark. The enemy looks sweeter than you.
I never know which words to speak, where to
start or even how to end...when you try to seduce
my thoughts you end up in quarrels somehow,
it never ends, it never stops, Then you ask “forgive
me” And the humble spirit in me forgives- but again
the war comes back to defeat our peace. Quarrel.
Without you he just can’t be.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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A Poet wishing, watching, waiting
My life’s ludicrous lust.
A poignant perplexed poet, pondering.
Outside drones descend to dull him.
His envious egocentric eyes resting empty.
His fearful façade forever facing,
A woeful world which watches his wasting,
Only to see his exterior disintegrating,
The crumbling and scatterings of his dreams emptying,
Turning to fragments all to be wasted,
Turning to dust free of his lust.
Never to live.
Never to trust.
Never being seen.
No shining beam.
My life’s ludicrous lust.
Inside it blossoms, how I wish I could trust.
To follow my lust, all I need is trust.
poem by Paul Latham
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Egocentric
They have said he is all into 'it'.
With some super intelligent brain to pick.
But he aint nothing but an average 'hood' dude who sits...
Thinking about what to do next,
To keep from being bored...
And exploring the life he is blessed with!
He hates to be complimented about things he does.
You would think he isn't serious...
Because he seems delirious.
And he knows too well how he is perceived.
His persona has been crafted...
So he can have a peace of mind,
To be left alone!
And have folks believe what they please!
Loving to tease.
But keeping his privacy enjoyed.
And his life discreet!
Choosing to live life,
Without becoming annoyed.
'Man...
You aint foolin' nobody!
You just described yourself! '
I'm flattered you would feel that way.
But I am not nearly that egocentric.
'Oh Yeah?
Well...
You're the only one I know,
That can write and talk to yourself...
And at the same time!
You need to get out more!
Do something else with your mind! '
Excuse me?
And who are you to be passing judgement?
'Hey...
I don't have to sit here and listen to this.
I am going for a walk.'
Good!
At least one of us is doing 'something' productive!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cynosure 1314 2006 Version
High sensitivity cannot secure
soul's struggle against fear where envy, greed
may undermine ambitions fine, immure
the mind behind walls high when freedom's need
is great, must greater grow, - our world has ills to cure.
Focus forthright's needed to ensure
a healthy harmony, where hope may feed
upon the way not waste, haste immature,
potential open-handed, to succeed,
not eat itself, self sell - pride premature.
Avoid both pride's possession, prepossession
egocentric tomb boom's sinecure.
Sonnet session ends on upbeat - freshen
impressions and advance as cynosure.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Stripping to the Bones
Now me, now not,
a thought is always there.
My genes navigate on collapsing walls,
words, dark mind, broken dreams.
But thought is always there.
I hold on firmly to sounds,
voices, tongues,
the thought is always there.
Brain goes into a nameless friction,
of aimless voyage
I rediscover the myth and abandon the zone of thoughts.
Distance becomes a wailing music.
Sitting between the flesh and bones
I recognise the relic of a window.
Let us dropp the years,
become timeless, empty and hollow.
Egocentric wind violates the lungs.
We cannot sing in praise of earth.
I walk through the body,
stripping to the bones, to find the seeds.
I refuse to pluck the flowers.
poem by Satish Verma
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Cynosure 1314 Current Version
Deep sensitivity may not secure
soul's struggle against fear where envy, greed
undermine ambitions fine, immure
the mind behind walls high when freedom's need
is great, must greater grow, our world has ills to cure.
Focus, concentration, help ensure
proactive symbiosis as hopes feed
on chance enhanced, spurn waste, haste immature.
Potential open-ended, to succeed,
refuses compromise, boast premature,
avoids both pride's possession, prepossession -
egocentric tomb boom's sinecure.
Sonnet session ends on upbeat - freshen
impressions and advance as cynosure.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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