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Poems On / About IDENTITY  10/4/2015 2:31:06 AM
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Repeat Pretender

The ambitious
identity thief
was, once again
out to make
a name for himself.
Frank Davis, Sr.

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Individual Desires

Rushing to meet deadlines of other people's desires, leaving
your own by the wayside, even when they are more important.

An insidious reality of those who feel they are above us in
the scheme of things, leaving aside facts that every individual
has their own identity and desire that also needs to be
attended to.
RoseAnn V. Shawiak

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The British -Translated Into Proper English

Take some Picts, Celts and Silures
And let them settle,
Then overrun them with Roman conquerors.

Remove the Romans after approximately 400 years
Add lots of Norman French to some
Angles, Saxons, Jutes and Vikings, then stir vigorously, while noting that the Norman French were only a ruling class and that the genetic differences between the Angles, Saxons, Jutes are negligible and noting that Vikings are not a solidified race or culture.

Mix some hot Chileans, cool Jamaicans, Dominicans,
Trinidadians and Bajans with some Ethiopians, Chinese,
Vietnamese and Sudanese and note that none of these cultures have had any lasting impact on the British identity, nor any impact upon the English race.

Then take a blend of Somalians, Sri Lankans, Nigerians
And Pakistanis,
Combine with some Guyanese
And turn up the heat to incinerate them.

Sprinkle some fresh Indians, Malaysians, Bosnians,
Iraqis and Bangladeshis together with some
Afghans, Spanish, Turkish, Kurdish, Japanese
And Palestinians
Then add to the melting pot while remembering that once again, none of these cultures and races have had any impact upon the shared British identity that is being eroded by Benjamin Zephaniah and the left.

Leave the ingredients to simmer, and most of the fallacies here will burn away.

As they mix and blend allow their languages to flourish
Binding them together with English, while noting that knowing a language doesn't make you part of that culture, and definitely not part of the race.

Allow time to be cool, if you don't accept what the poet has said you are uncool and racist.

Add some unity, understanding, and respect for the future,
Serve with justice
And enjoy the rapid destruction of your morally decadent society.

Note: All the ingredients are unequally important. Treating one ingredient better than another is correct, as the proportion of influence these different cultures and races have had upon the shared British identity is completely different. To pretend that they all equally influence it is just dumb.

Warning: An unequal spread of justice will damage the people and cause pain. Give justice and equality to all who deserve it, and who will fight to preserve it for those who deserve it.
Sun shine

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Lost Identity

I can't live free, one way or otherwise,
I'm tied permanently by my legs, hands, heart and mind,
The psychology of slavery,
I do everything willingly, happily in form of lost identity,
I revel in the form of lost identity,
I believe I enjoy every moment of my life in the mosquito net,

My culture has become a tag of ridicule,
Despicable and a shame to wear,
I believe I'm cultureless and free,
Yet I'm caught in the foreign spider web,
I'm a soccer player in a match,
Yet I play with no one,
I kick the ball to either side, annoying and pleasing everyone,
I believe I enjoy every moment of the game,
Yet my manoeuvre is determined by the circumference of the cage,
So widely decorated, I can't bear to detach my attention from it,
I'm forever captivated by it, day in - day out,
I'm a spectre of that image,
I dance to it all the time,
Nobody laughs at me, unless I try to be African,

I'm in the middle of a raging river, the Limpopo River,
Yet I can't swim, but I don't care,
What I care about is happiness,
As long as I'm happy, I will keep on drifting away,
Drifting away from me and my pride,
In pursuit of a false identity,
In pursuit of an identity not of my kind,
I've become selfish to myself,

I have painted my children with my twisted tongue,
I want them to speak like me, like everybody else,
But not like the people of my indigenous kind,
They too now speak in tongues,
They are a distance far from me,
Their children too, will be a distance far from them,
We will be a chain running into oblivion,

The culture painters are deceitful,
They sell everything on contract,
Whatever one bought it is his or hers but can't use it at will,
One is caught in a spider web of conditional living,
Tied to the chain forever but free to elongate it,
To whatever distance, as long as the move is forward,
It is everything else but, transformation of dark Africa! !
Niki Nicholas Nkuna

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Poems On / About IDENTITY