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Best Poems About / On IDENTITY
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149.
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Sonnet #43
In the future no one will use their birth names-how gauche!
It will give none agita to coin identities-
Suppressing core data natural, preferable,
Welcome O survival-useful ruse.
Natal allegiance risky now and bogue.
Here will be the answer to computor banked info-
A wardrobe of identities, separate as bank accounts.
Businesses will generate names for the sheepish,
Bills will be made and paid by differing phases.
The meanings of false and alternate now vague,
Variants will commit crimes, do good deeds.
Registered outlaws will marry and breed
IVF and surrogates now the only way-
All for the needed bliss of anonymity.
All for the needed bliss of anonymity.
Morgan Michaels
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150.
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The Forest
Inside me blossoms a dense forest
From the roots of my body hairs,
Faster than the eternal verities of my life
Running after time,
Disperses over my whole body
From my head to heel
Towards my armpits, chest and groin,
Hides my identity as human under a bushel
And deters my skin's feeling
From the warmth of the sun,
As the whole Amazon forests do.
In the world of my own,
My closest relation that agglutinates
My life and my identity,
Adheres in every nook and cranny
The slippery moss by the grasses
Which merges into the dense forests
And shrouds my true face,
My eyebrow, my moustache and my beards
Only visible are my forehead and my pupil,
My nostril and my lips
The hairs in my body and armpits
As the roots of the tree
Grows faster into the dense forests that
Anchors my whole body to the planet
To relinquish myself to the forests
My own pride that's dedicated to be
Out of the dense forest
Segregates me and myself from my existence
As the serpent peels up his skin
But waives
As a faithful and civilized human
To the densely forest
Blanketed all over my body
Pushpa Ratna Tuladhar
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Read more: identity poems, running poems, pride poems, tree poems, sun poems, world poems, life poems, time poems
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151.
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Mistaken
First thing first, who I am?
I am no lady
Never had time to be a girl
They told me I am beautiful
And push me into this world
First came love, then sex
I remember thinking; what's next,
I now shamefully admit
I became a part of the system
Where his touch made me his victim
It is not the same he said she said
Not the same love gone bad
It is the case of broken identity
When his touch caught me off guard
He came to me like a thief in the night
Took my essence and my fore sight
I could not see beyond his love
That there will be no white dove
He gave me what I needed
I gave him all I had
He told me that he was leaving
I thought I would be glad
What is left is barely enough
After this sudden rebuff
His touch broke everything inside
To allow loneliness to reside
I have no wings, so I can't fly
I have no tears, so I never cry
I have no faith, so there is no entity
This is a case of mistaken identity
Today I am a just a woman without her touch
His hands no longer love me
Now I say, what is, will be
To the love that never made history
Tricia Whyte
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152.
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European Heritage Invasion Versus Pacific Peace Isolation
Your heritage childhood learning post communist Yugoslavia
splintered by bitter nationalism rural urban divisive civil war
I isolation the Buller West Coast South Island New Zealand
province values were old country colonial family status core
we embrace histories of diversity invasions splinter identities
religion belief nationality posed threats to communist policies
religious differences between Orthodox Serbs Catholic Croats
and Muslim Bosniaks mixes into volatile political aspirations
in contrast isolated colony New Zealand enters European wars
under the banner of British Empire assumes her own identities
heritage ancestry denomination Christian mixes with Polynesian
the government encourages Asian immigration multiculturalism
post Maori New Zealand Wars NZ embraced peace in isolation
post Yugoslavia accepts European power surge manipulation?
accept 'the situation in the terrain' common message it's a mess
up manipulation crime spiral from local to global level policies?
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Terence George Craddock (Spectral Images and Images Of Light)
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