Best New Identity Poems
A Soul grown cold repenting for the lies to come,
lays cast in addiction laced stains of anguished fantasies.
With a tortured logic knowing the only way out is further in,
the Beast awaits its dawn, waking only to be fed again.
A circle that never arcs, scheming to envisage a new identity.
Withered and weary pretenses that are no longer attended,
never ending till the last taste is savored.
Maybe tomorrow...
02/26/2020
Circadian Wobble
Circadian tripped through a trap door
Into amended reality of light and time
Where confusion missteps through the waltz of the hours,
And intervals of minutes
Glare at each other suddenly plucked out of place
Leaping into a space reserved for colleagues,
Renamed without their permission,
Here circadian wobbles in an new identity assumed
Where dawn rises in darkness -
Dusk becomes twilight –
When the morning star collides
With alpenglow
And sleep eludes the routine of dreamers
Rhythm disrupted –
Gone the orderly synchronized ballet of hours,
In their birth space,
Minutes running early
Gazing into prophetic confusion
Back to days to come
Déjà vu unpacked
Staggering in crunchy seconds of DLSD
Sunlight confused by second hands
Not knowing their place
In the Circadian scheme or on the face of eternity’s timepiece
A standoff in the litany of changing light
That lingers just a little longer in the cycle of day and night
Surrealist creation longing to hold onto light
Until the globe turns its face into the season
When time and light re-align.
DLSD – Daylight Savings Time Disorder
3-17-21
Contest: Inner Alignment
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Self-Identity
The large question mark
points to a wish
a longing to find
our real Identity..
Not the identity we found
in childhood years
which lingers for most..
In years as children
we discover a self
separated and ready
for a life
with promise and color..
When this life sours
when we intuit
another identity
seemingly out of reach
our path of discovery
need be continued..
Teachers and guides
are there for us
to pursue and search
for the Identity
we somehow know
is made of a
peace and happiness
not satisfied by worn
childhood knowing..
A teacher's message
if heard correctly
will point to our
new Identity and
will also caution
against a pedestal
for the teacher
with beliefs to anchor..
Almost home..
Waiting for that
morning resonance...
I am of Maroon extraction, dear
My grandmother's grandfather fought
Without surrender or tanant of fear
And two times with Boukman caught
And twice unlike him escaped
To die in a rocky cliff, proudly brave
While the freed slave escaped
He held the pass alone unto his grave.
But my grandmother, mixed his blood
Gave me a half German grandfather, good!
At evening when oral tongues tattle truth
These stories were the pomegranate
Juice that fed the worthiness of ragged youth.
My father from aboriginal state
Rose and span his flight from teacher
To banker's clerk, and then to police
Against the national disorder of labor
Hankering for a new identity of peace.
He found his, a veterinarian, at last
But for his broken wing there was no cast
To compensate, he dreamed of children
Into whom all his resources were poured
Rising to the top of government, send
Them to colleges far away, they bored
With the magic of his island never returned.
And I, he died when I was fourteen
Before he carved me from ash for his urn
Dote on his past like a child unweened,
While suckling from the simplicity of mother
Whose clothes on the line reeked of heather.
O but mother too, was only half of Africa
And yet despite the latent Spanish in her
I am your ebon tree, your chocolate or sepia
And when I dream there in the unblur
Stands my ancient, my vast begining, pride
Like a Serengeti from Ashanti to Zulu lure
O this child has many kings in his inside
And yet no kingdom did I claim but the bush
That surrounds my Canterbury with its hush
And the braod pastures on Knoxwood's plain
O to reign there in childhood still
Running in and out with swallows in the rain
To eat the pulp of fruit from every hill
That balmed me I was bruised. Too harsh
Were schools for the vision in my skin
My teachers were lilacs, things in the marsh
My student eyes eclipsed by the fins, things
Still bright, or a sudden gasp of wings.
Under inexorable gravity’s pull,
galaxies often move toward one another.
Closer and closer they come to each other,
till astronomic smashups happen in full.
For no less than two of them, possibly three,
such a scenario has been predicted,
as computer simulations depicted
through the Hubble images researchers see.
Milky Way will have a new identity.
It’s destined to get a major makeover.
Andromeda’s bound for a broad takeover.
Milkomeda’s what they’ll call this entity.
In that head-on cosmic collision in view—
a colossal stellar encounter full-blown—
it is indeed likely our Sun will be thrown
from its present locale to a region new.
The galaxies into each other will plow,
but our planetary realms won’t be destroyed
nor be propelled into an outer space void,
though stars will not have the same orbits as now.
They’ll go round a novel galactic center.
The fate for our own solar system in store
is perhaps to be tossed far off from the core
of the reshaped ellipse that it will enter.
Of course, by the time the collision takes place,
the surface of Earth, without intervention,
will be much too hot for water retention,
because of the Sun’s super-luminous face.
This means no terrestrial life could subsist
or think that the heavens are seemingly strange.
Thus no one we know of would notice the change,
and our worldly woes will have ceased to exist…
For a while, the night sky will be all ablaze
with new star formations in radiant rays,
but at last in the merger’s more final phase
it will look like spilled milk in a bright white haze.
Still there’s no need to fret or to get upset.
This melding won’t start till four billion years hence.
And that’s way away in the far future tense…
So it’s no use crying over spilt milk yet!
~ Harley White
Mr. Arthur Hamilton was presented with an odd proposition.
He received a note from a stranger at a train station.
A phone call came from a “deceased” friend the night before.
The next night, that same person called Mr. Hamilton once more.
The voice was speaking with some strange familiarity.
Arthur became convinced the voice was from his old friend Charlie.
The friend told Hamilton of his second opportunity.
Charlie told Arthur to go to the note’s address.
There, Mr. Hamilton’s life would receive a redress.
This secret company was presenting an offer quite strange.
An entirely new life was something they would arrange.
Here was a clandestine organization conducting a bizarre game.
Antiochus Wilson would be Mr. Hamilton’s new name.
He would have a stronger and younger body,
along with an entirely new identity.
Here was Arthur Hamilton’s second life opportunity.
Wonder what will happen? Just watch the movie.
based on the 1966 film "Seconds"
Individuality in decisions, expressions, actions and consequences
Never an island of oneself but also not under the mercy of others
Direct enjoyment of any corresponding benefit well deserved
Everlasting freedom with no hitches or pauses
Proper interaction with a strong sense of belonging
Equity and equality, striving to maintain the goodness of humanity
No more under a roof built for monitoring and strict observation
Doors of mutual respect, open to fertilize the sense of responsibility
Ending all dependence to use the grown wings and acquired limbs
Nurturing the new identity to promote self relevance
Child of yesterday transforms to the man of today
Eradicating this process is liable to conflicts, riots and wars.
Stepping onto foreign soil
I take my first newfangled breath
"Here skies are blue
And dreams come true" -
They say, this is success.
With every step I take, I see
My peers ten steps ahead of me
They all began
Where I now stand
Much earlier than me.
Every time I try my skills
They say I must conform my ways.
My mother- tongue
Is here, unsung
My culture in this land unpraised.
I now must renovate myself
Must keep the stars I long in reach,
So let me paint
A new constraint
Upon my heart as they reteach
My actions to be like the "norm"
I feel a new identity!
At first averse,
But now immersed,
I start my walk in novelty.
The path I trek is frightening!
No matter what, I need to fight -
I trip and fall,
With demons, brawl,
Torn to pieces, move in fright.
But now I stand upon a hill
And now the fog has cleared a bit
I stand achieved,
But soon I leave
To conquer mountains greater still.
Attractive, tall, well muscular and good looking is Mr. Regiani
a beating drum's aura and the charisma of a violin choir
chooses the stars to interact without the need of a telescope
and always in purchase of suits with their own natural fragrances
a mister in the hearts of all in the neighbourhood
not strict, just so selfish, self righteous and domineering
friends with like minds top his priority to his own children
invited guests flocking in to make some of his sons illegitimate
all eyes must turn away from the east because he sees west
all hearts must stay hopeful and dry because his drinks alone
a family so complete and balanced, his uncommon blessing
yet stirs terribly to an ultimate scatter using his own hands
cry after cry, opponents form on both sides of his partition
he then eats and make merry while the least of his blood lie sick
turning a human to camel, the victim comes from near his bedroom
lines up his seedlings to inhale the fart of his rude gaseous release
encouraging mediocrity for the productive to pay heavy taxes
a son grows from boy to man, nurturing the hate of this identity
nature and life stand with him to use history’s angry signature
he stays in the heated court to successfully change his surname
development comes with freedom
but not without sacrifices and determination
mr. Fariba’s liberty and new identity are expressed
as he conquers his father’s heartless dominance.
(Please read part 1 first or this will make no sense)
To the scientist’s dismay, pressing the cancel button was ineffective. The plunge into his past continued inexorably. It, however, was not without its benefits. Henry’s skin became supple and his muscles bulged as in his youth. His hair returned to the light brown that he hadn’t seen in decades. For the first time in decades, Henry felt, not just okay, but good and joyous in his renewed youth. He decided to stop his slide into the past at about age twenty when he would have his degrees and could live his career over again. If his “other self” was there, Henry would assume a new identity and make a whole different life for himself. It was an unprecedented opportunity and he meant to make the most of it.
Near his birthday in the year 1970, Henry hopefully pressed the cancel button and was rewarded with a loud click. But instead of gliding to a stop, the time machine accelerated in its journey into the past. Henry experienced the hormonal rush of puberty and felt adolescent acne break out on his face. Within minutes, a reverse growth spurt cut his height by several inches. Soon, he was a young child at play, oblivious to the danger of his situation. The year 1950 saw a tot and then a cooing baby. When August 8th passed, the infant suddenly had an umbilical cord attached to a nonfunctioning placenta. Its two umbilical arteries throbbed desperately, but the return blood through the umbilical vein was not oxygenated, nor did it contain essential nutrients.
Membranes enveloped the devolving Henry who now had the “old man” appearance of a fetus. Then he became a blastocyst, ready for implantation in a nonexistent uterine endometrium. Within seconds he regressed to gastrula, blastula and then the berry-like ball of cells called morula. Like some weird countdown, he became 64, 32, 16, 8, 4, 2 cells and then a zygote.
The paternal half of Henry’s chromosomes disappeared next, leaving only an ovum ready for fertilization. Even that became an oocyte needing to complete meiosis before it vanished entirely in the immature ovary of Henry’s infant mother.
Henry Higgins, born August 8, 1950 and died November 8, 1949, physicist and time traveler is missing forever.
Fighting change is fighting progress holding me back even longer,
Find myself going in circles like a hamster wheel in motion,
I'm tired of the struggle, trapped in a cage
Break me out of my selfish ways,
Change my focus and change my habits
Learn something new and transform like magic.
Change my point of view
Clean out my heart and make it new,
Direct my steps like a gps
Help me to follow the path you have set.
I want to know you more, got to work hard with all I have,
And do my best with no regrets stop living out of my past
And fix what I can instead of questioning your plan.
It's my desire to change so help me change,
So I can live the life you gave to me
Worry free with you and your truth.
Replace my errors with your love
And clean out my heart
I want a fresh start.
You are changing me
Forever changing me
From the inside out
I need you to change me.
I'm searching for a newer me
Not what I used to be
Looking for something
That changes my identity.
I'm trying to avoid it,
But change is a process that can't be avoided,
It's something that comes with making choices.
Continuing in my old tracks is not the move
It’s choosing to lie rather than tell the truth.
I want to reflect you in the best way
But I can't if I run away.
You are the light that guides my steps
You are the one who knows what's best.
Lead me by your light
Cast out my fears like shadows in sunlight.
So many times I feel like just giving up
I need guidance on how to strengthen my weak spots
And keep my head up.
I know you're always there through it all
Ready to catch me when I fall.
Like a support system you always have my back
When I feel lost you get me back on track.
Stop fighting the thing that I so greatly need
A process that can bring me peace.
I need to change, expose me to my new identity
Flip the switch in my heart so I can restart.
You are changing me
Forever changing me
From the inside out
I need you to change me.
I'm searching for a newer me
Not what I used to be
Looking for something
That changes my identity.
With every step you`ve taught me, this is my elaboration...
The motherly love, unique to all individuals
however, some not as fortunate as others.
Some born with silver spoons, to extreme empty rice bowls
love that portrays from your own, i do have a jewel.
A family of six, working the majority of her life,2 jobs
She being in her 74th year, active driving her car.
The thoughtfulness, caring for others, her nature that is
her everyday commodity, asking nothing in return.
Her humour, personality eclipses her wide knowledge wisdom, understanding.
Her home cooking, like when were kids delicious as
her Sunday roast, still serving them today
i can`t tell you the extent of gratitude, but you know i love you.
Now 14 years since this was penned, much change has evolved,
your age health taken you down a path of decline.
My pathway of Jesus the new Messiah, making a new identity
and spiritually intertwining, i filter out the dross, bringing you into MINE.
I spoke and told you before, " AS IT WAS WITH MARY , SO SHALL IT BE WITH YOU." You don`t understand. Mary gave birth to Jesus, also did YOU.
To be born into sin, this time around, to be born again, and go through
sheer Hell and filter out the evil for my Fathers purpose to...
Be took to Heaven and transformed into a new man new purposes new desires
to untangle and put straight the confusion and straighten cross wires.
For spiritual awakening enhancements authority to make changes in you
to kick out the devil and for you to SEE what is TRUE.
To restore to erase and replace, the hurts the pains the shame lies and guilt
for heaven and the results of the cross inside me is built.
As i spiritually destroy the works of Satan, the pains are so immense.
I know that you`re suffering as equal, to go through evil no man has suffered, so you are suffering too, to reach the other side of the fence.
Its all for LOVE, your rewards are heaped in heaven without measure
the pains today are being transferred to Heavenly treasure.
AS IT WAS WITH MARY SO SHALL IT BE WITH YOU , ROYALTY.
With much love from your son Jesus Paul xx
Written 2011 updated 2025
Paul Beadnall for:
Sponsor ~ ~
Contest Name Any Mother Poem*(Originally Give a Kiss Mommy)
Fighting change is fighting progress holding me back even longer,
Find myself going in circles like a hamster wheel in motion,
I'm tired of the struggle, trapped in a cage
Break me out of my selfish ways,
Change my focus and change my habits
Learn something new and transform like magic.
Change my point of view
Clean out my heart and make it new,
Direct my steps like a gps
Help me to follow the path you have set.
I want to know you more, got to work hard with all I have,
And do my best with no regrets stop living out of my past
And fix what I can instead of questioning your plan.
It's my desire to change so help me change,
So I can live the life you gave to me
Worry free with you and your truth.
Replace my errors with your love
And clean out my heart
I want a fresh start.
You are changing me
Forever changing me
From the inside out
I need you to change me.
I'm searching for a newer me
Not what I used to be
Looking for something
That changes my identity.
I'm trying to avoid it,
But change is a process that can't be avoided,
It's something that comes with making choices.
Continuing in my old tracks is not the move
It’s choosing to lie rather than tell the truth.
I want to reflect you in the best way
But I can't if I run away.
You are the light that guides my steps
You are the one who knows what's best.
Lead me by your light
Cast out my fears like shadows in sunlight.
So many times I feel like just giving up
I need guidance on how to strengthen my weak spots
And keep my head up.
I know you're always there through it all
Ready to catch me when I fall.
Like a support system you always have my back
When I feel lost you get me back on track.
Stop fighting the thing that I so greatly need
A process that can bring me peace.
I need to change, expose me to my new identity
Flip the switch in my heart so I can restart.
You are changing me
Forever changing me
From the inside out
I need you to change me.
I'm searching for a newer me
Not what I used to be
Looking for something
That changes my identity.
He stood there in the doorway
His legs dangled in white shorts
His blue shirt matching the rags
The mechanics used to clean tools
His fingertips yellow stained of fungus
I could barely see his blues eyes
Through the reddish brown colored
Replacing any hints of good health
Clutching a Winston banging on a sea burg
he juggled three scantily clad women
One hillbilly a blonde hick and this
black chick from Cleveland with no teeth
I hardly recognized him except for
he was still giving orders in this frailness
chanting cigarettes for everyone spare
no expense Marlboros Newport's Winston's
I never understood the urgency of nicotine
I watched him light the match pull on the filter
Release the smoke building his confidence up
It angered me I suppose watching him
Commit suicide tossing his cancer meds.
through all my pleading yelling screaming
he finally got it actually taking his medication
putting the trash out beating cancer in the end
closing the shop where his new identity begin
I survived a week..
a week in college.
This, I take as a great achievement.
I met fascinating people,
who seemed to take me in as one of their own,
professors from across the globe,
Things about me I wanted to forget,
already in the past,
as I forge a new identity...
as I learn from my mistakes,
and take a step towards my future...
I keep my fingers crossed, that the next 4 years,
will be as beautiful as the week that went by.