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Poems On / About IDENTITY  4/25/2015 8:14:21 PM
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950. Mother, Demolish My Identity! Let Me Go Out Of Ego Cover! 240208


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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True Love's Other Side

The flame of love will last a lifetime that's what some experts on love do say
But I have known of hearts near to breaking when love's passion has faded away
For months on end they grieved for lost love and the heartache with them for years stay
Some times for loving one true and sincerely there can be a huge price to pay.

I know of this beautiful young woman Julie though Julie is not her real name
And I will not divulge her identity since that as a secret must remain
Her only error was to love completely to give all of her love to one man
Her wish was that they grow old together though all in life doesn't go to plan.

The one she loved left her for another stories like this we've heard before
And she was beyond all consoling love's ache left her with a mental festering sore
She went into a deep depression and for her 'twas downhill all of the way
To the ward of a psychiatric hospital her postal address of today.

Not all love stories have happy endings though to love truly ought not to be a mistake
But those who love truly when disappointed are those who know of the real heartache
Some novelists make millions in love stories with happy endings but all you read do not believe
Few wish to know of the disappointment felt by those who for a lost love grieve.

I know of this young woman Julie she knows of true love's other side
Her tragedy was to love truly and her mental health by lost love destroyed
She is in a mental institution and Julie is not her real name
And for what must seem as obvious reasons her identity as a secret remain.
Francis Duggan

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As If They Have Their Own Identity

All of the Autumn leaves that fall from their mother tree
Are shaped so very differently
As if each has their own identity
At least that's how they seem to me.

In the cool gusts of the freshening winds they blow
Along the footpath fast and then quite slow
As if searching for a final resting place
On the Nature strip or in stormwater drain for to hide their wrinkled face.

Their span of time is brief so quick to meet decay
And in Nature's bosom within weeks they rot away
And off of their compost insects and beetles will live
When Nature takes in other ways she give.

Leaves too have life despite what some might say
And all things of life return to earth one day
And though they have life cells they do not have a mind
But they serve some purpose just like human kind.

I hear them rustle on their invisible feet
The dead dry leaves that are blown down the street
All of different shapes and sizes though from the one mother tree
As if they have their own identity.
Francis Duggan

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The King's Daughter

The daughter of a king
What does this world know.
No paper no proof
No place of identity to show.

Her worlds humble themselves
At her feet each day.
For her royal features
Her charm and talents displayed.

She's a king's daughter
She's loyal and family true.
No culture wouldn't be proud
If they only knew.

Forced to keep her identity
By her peers and contingents each day.
To escape defiled repugnance
Is her lifes ransom she pays.

She never cries out
She is given everything
But her heart lies heavy
From her memories of the King.
Cecelia Weir

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Read more: identity poems, culture poems, daughter poems, family poems, world poems, heart poems, memory poems
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Poems On / About IDENTITY