Famous Short Identity Poems
Famous Short Identity Poems. Short Identity Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Identity short poems
by
Emily Dickinson
This Consciousness that is aware
Of Neighbors and the Sun
Will be the one aware of Death
And that itself alone
Is traversing the interval
Experience between
And most profound experiment
Appointed unto Men --
How adequate unto itself
Its properties shall be
Itself unto itself and none
Shall make discovery.
Adventure most unto itself
The Soul condemned to be --
Attended by a single Hound
Its own identity.
by
Emily Dickinson
The look of thee, what is it like
Hast thou a hand or Foot
Or Mansion of Identity
And what is thy Pursuit?
Thy fellows are they realms or Themes
Hast thou Delight or Fear
Or Longing -- and is that for us
Or values more severe?
Let change transfuse all other Traits
Enact all other Blame
But deign this least certificate --
That thou shalt be the same.
by
Emily Dickinson
As One does Sickness over
In convalescent Mind,
His scrutiny of Chances
By blessed Health obscured --
As One rewalks a Precipice
And whittles at the Twig
That held Him from Perdition
Sown sidewise in the Crag
A Custom of the Soul
Far after suffering
Identity to question
For evidence't has been --
by
Seamus Heaney
The timeless waves, bright, sifting, broken glass,
Came dazzling around, into the rocks,
Came glinting, sifting from the Americas
To posess Aran.
Or did Aran rush
to throw wide arms of rock around a tide
That yielded with an ebb, with a soft crash?
Did sea define the land or land the sea?
Each drew new meaning from the waves' collision.
Sea broke on land to full identity.
by
Emily Dickinson
Truth -- is as old as God --
His Twin identity
And will endure as long as He
A Co-Eternity --
And perish on the Day
Himself is borne away
From Mansion of the Universe
A lifeless Deity.
by
Emily Dickinson
How firm Eternity must look
To crumbling men like me
The only Adamant Estate
In all Identity --
How mighty to the insecure
Thy Physiognomy
To whom not any Face cohere --
Unless concealed in thee
by
Emily Dickinson
Estranged from Beauty -- none can be --
For Beauty is Infinity --
And power to be finite ceased
Before Identity was leased.
by
Emily Dickinson
Nature and God -- I neither knew
Yet Both so well knew me
They startled, like Executors
Of My identity.
Yet Neither told -- that I could learn --
My Secret as secure
As Herschel's private interest
Or Mercury's affair --
by
Philip Larkin
The little lives of earth and form,
Of finding food, and keeping warm,
Are not like ours, and yet
A kinship lingers nonetheless:
We hanker for the homeliness
Of den, and hole, and set.
And this identity we feel
- Perhaps not right, perhaps not real -
Will link us constantly;
I see the rock, the clay, the chalk,
The flattened grass, the swaying stalk,
And it is you I see.
by
Emily Dickinson
That sacred Closet when you sweep --
Entitled "Memory" --
Select a reverential Broom --
And do it silently.
'Twill be a Labor of surprise --
Besides Identity
Of other Interlocutors
A probability --
August the Dust of that Domain --
Unchallenged -- let it lie --
You cannot supersede itself
But it can silence you --
by
Omar Khayyam
O limpid wine, wine full of sheen! Fool that I am, I'd
drink thee in such quantity, that all perceiving me from
far would my identity confound with thine, and say to
me: O master wine! tell me, whence do you come?