A form of poetry, I'm told, in which the poet extravagantly praises him/herself. Here's an example:
Who is Who
Tomaz Salamun you are a genius
you are wonderful you are a joy to behold you are great you are a giant
you are strong and powerful you are phenomenal you are the greatest of all time
you are the king you are possessed of great wealth you are a genius Tomaz Salamun
in harmony with all creation we have to admit that you are a lion the planets pay homage to you the sun turns her face to you every day
you are just everything you are Mount Ararat you are perennial you are the morning star you are without beginning or end you have no shadow no fear
you are the light you are the fire from heaven behold the eyes of Tomaz Salamun
behold the brilliant radiance of the sky behold his arms behold his loins behold him striding forth
behold him touching the grolmd your skin bears the scent of nard your hair is like solar dust
the stars are amazed who is amazed at the stars the sea is blue who is the sky's guardian you are the boat on the high seas
that no wind no storm can destroy
you are the mountain rising from the plain the lake in the desert
you are the speculum humanae salvationis you hold back the forces of darkness beside you every light grows dim
beside you every sun appears dark
every stone every house every crumb every mote of dust every hair every blood every mountain every snow every tree every life every valley every chasm
every enmity every lamb every glow every rainbow
Tomaz Salamon (Contemporary Siovenian poet)
Does anyone have any other examples?
No, but this sounds like the young boxer, Casius Clay, before he became the legendary Mohammed Ali.
There's a Spenser poem where he says 'yes, you're beautiful, but my poetry will be famous long after you're dead'- that might qualify.
I Like My Own Poems
I like my own poems
I quote from them
from time to time
saying, "A poet once said,"
and then follow up
with a line or two
from one of my own poems
appropriate to the event.
How those lines sing!
All that wisdom and beauty!
Why it tickles my ass
off its spine.
"Why those lines are mine!"
and Jesus, what a bang
I get out of it.
I like the ideas in them,
Ideas that hit home.
They speak to me.
I mean, I understand
what the hell
the damn poet's
"Why I've been there,
the same thing," I shout,
and Christ! What a shot it is,
I can hardly stand it.
Words sure do not fail
this guy, I say.
From some world
only he knows
he bangs the bong,
but I can feel it
in the wood,
in the wood of the word,
rising to its form
in the world.
"Now you gotta be good
to do that!" I say
and damn! It just shakes
Wow! Thankyou for that JP - exactly what I need.