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Poems On / About IDENTITY  8/20/2014 1:48:23 AM
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Best Poems About / On IDENTITY
 
 
 
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  169.     

I Am...

I am in between.
An actor, a spectator.
A child, a grown-up.
Dream and reality.
Brazilian?
German?
English?
My identity crisis is my identity.
And I am trying to keep it.
Trying to stay away from boxes.
Always happy?
Always sad?
I want to be both:
Happy-sad, jumping-crawling my way through life,
With a dancing shadow of Death on my shoulder.
Things in boxes stay in boxes,
Neatly put away where we think we can find them again.
I am determined to jump out,
Like a jack-in-the-box,
Spitting my humour in the face of the world.
 
Thomas Doubting

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  170.     

My Name Is Mom

It was brought to my attention after I became a Mom
That I was no longer me, but someone I’d become
I am still the same person that I was before the kids
But the reference to my identity was different before this.

Now I’m someone’s Mom, I don’t even have a name
And I was slow to notice it, so who was I to blame?
Someone I barely know quizzically looks at me and says
I think I know your daughter, she’s in my daughter’s class.

My name is D. I tell her and she looks at me confused
She’s waiting for my last name so it will give her clues
And here I must confess that her name as well eludes me
But her daughter’s name is Nancy, that’s ironic don’t you agree?

So for those of you awaiting the blessed event of your first child
Remember the words I’ve written here for one day you will smile
When that little boy or girl grows up and steals your identity
You’ll have to stop and remember just who you used to be.
 
Donna McCord

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  171.     

950. Mother, Demolish my identity! Let me go out of ego cover! 240208

Amma,

As a floating balloon traps air from atmosphere
My little self is ensnared by ‘I’ encircling sphere!
Prick the wall! Let the air out to be one with sky
Crush the ‘I’! Let the self out to be one with thy!

As a floating sealed earthen pot of water in Ganges
My identity blocks all way that self with Self mergence
Break the pot! Let the water mingle with Holy River
Demolish my identity! Let me go out of ego cover!

As the charismatic silence is being the language of Love
Why the stupid mind is always engaged chattering loud?
As blissful state is my true nature in vigilance full
Why am I chased by sorrow pertained to body small?

As the ever expanding space is my dwelling place
Why am I bound in a fragile body with nine holes?
As all the objects under universe ever belong to me
Why am I after trivial things, bound by senses five? 240208
 
Raman Savithiri

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  172.     

And Her New Name Is...

Oh! I see a very chaste maiden
risen from the dust of obscurity
to the very height of prominence
and taken her rightful place with glee
amidst love songs and tears of joy

who is this peerless virgin?
defiled yet still remains untainted
pillaged yet still remains bountiful
sucked dry yet flowing with milk
bled to death yet unconquered
made childless yet still fertile
ridiculed but remains unabashed
threatened yet remains unafraid
envied and wooed yet not flattered
trampled yet still waxing strong
Eurocentric by force but is afrocentric
darkened by society but still shines
ruthlessly made hopeless yet hopeful
mortally wronged yet full of pardon
rejected, scorned yet accommodating
cursed yet stubbornly remains blessed?

her old name is Africa the brave
Africa the new world united giant
Africa the dark but bright continent

and her new name is ….Nkoyeni!
not the United States of Africa
not the United Nations of Africa
Nkoyeni is the true African identity
a true picture of infinity on canvas

there is power in the choice of name
Nkoyeni is Africa’s new African name
youthful and rejuvenated replica
of the raped and pillaged former identity

let it known,
the tent of God is with the lowly and meek
for they posses the key to the halls of infinity
 
Dela Bobobee

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