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Poems On / About IDENTITY  7/30/2015 3:13:32 AM
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Best Poems About / On IDENTITY
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Check the roots of your identity and call me Barney,
For you left your lover last night and i saw her naked;
But the blue sea will bathe her all over again in the name of love.
Edward Kofi Louis

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Love is a word that has been trampled in this nation we call our life. Loathe and pain are the only things that yet to decease. Every being on this earth is on a journey to find their one true identity. Whatever we do, we must never pose as obstacles in the paths of achievement of our loved ones. Go ahead, present yourself to the world. Stare into the night sky and let your heart out of its cage and soar. Break your hair out of the band that holds in its rebellion. Take the feet that have carried you this far, and dip them in the waters of expression. Bare the legs that have created your path and make them of use to yourself, by jumping off the cliff of risk. Be what has been held captive in your heart and burst like a firework. Make the audience shout in awe at what your life is capable of performing. Show the ones that have created a spot of loathe for you in their heart that being able to soar is for anyone, with ready wings. Don’t you ever dare to feel as though you cannot achieve what you wish to hold within your soul. Reach the hands that have carved many an idea and thoughts of wisdom and freedom, and thrust them to the heavens that sit just above your reach. Allow the voice that has been silenced in the past to shout louder than any soul that has ever been set free. Lift your eyes and open them to anyone willing to take the opportunity to stare and discover the mystery that has become you!
wendy martinez

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Fasionable Suicide

</>The pain etched in stone, temptation bleeds into the wounds of the failed youths. This world is a big joke to us now, and everything is a fad to us now, the knife cuts smoothly to the bone, the hangman's noose is their new necklace-the darkness follows us in the shadows-watching till it overcomes us-why does everything seem so perfect when everything is so rotten? The knife is the new god and the gas the air they want to breathe, everything succumbing to the new fads. Revolving around what they think is bad, and what they think is false for they are the new sheep, the new wave. Lifelines destroyed as they follow the next one. Broken veins pulse out at us, as we squint to see the sun, we burn but the feeling calms the faithless. Overdose is the diet of them now, the pills swallowed on quantity, taken to feed what they feel the need asks for next-as it begs for the things that we hate-the fad overcomes what was and used to be, it is the now. Cannot underestimate the becoming of the end, life is just a statistic now, the life is taken, broken down to be apart of the list that overflows now, the new fad takes the hand of the grim reaper to feed the river Styx with the choked fashion stars. The outcast are taken, are not to be, they are the same, identical now-stolen identities form our world now, sheep of the same roam over and all fall for the new fad.
grim blackhart

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Being A Couple

Remarried, divorced or widowed,
A woman equally loves the new one.
Premarital sex will have no bearing.
Identity will take care of the couple.
Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.

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Poems On / About IDENTITY