Best Self Identity Poems
But when no one was watching,
She laughed a little loud,
Spoke faster than she should have,
Forgot how to be proud.
With friends, she bent the rules a bit,
Ran barefoot, scraped her knees,
She asked the questions out loud
She never asked on bended knees.
Alone, she filled her notebooks
With poems and songs she couldn’t sing,
Built worlds inside her messy head,
And found a voice in everything.
She wasn’t only silence,
Or the girl they thought they knew;
She held a thousand versions,
And every one was true.
I can’t be a human being
All efforts went fruitless.
‘Being Human’ is now
A day dream !
I turned into a stormy wind – a tempest
Destroyed nature, devasted biodiversity
Killed animals brutally.
I transformed into a goblin,
Feared to look at my shadow
Feared to face myself,
Always kept myself inside mask !
I’m a wretch humanity, they say.
Now I’m roaming hesitatingly
In quest of peace, in quest of Utopia !
People say me, ‘Mr Brutus !’
Sorrows and sufferings are now my parents,
Pains, lamenting and humiliations
Are my kiths and Kins,
Woe is my wife,
Myself is non-entity element !
I did not drench myself in moonlight
Did not look at the blue sky
Did not keep my environment clean and green.
Below the boughs of inferiority Complex tree,
I am now shedding ceaseless tear !
I’am a hatred and lost star
A falling comet that still shines
Trying to exist !
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'm a
beautiful
woman
Turn me
inside out
and I will
show you
what I'm
all about
I love
small
children
and
dancing in
there
sentences
is revealing
they give
me a smile
and talk
a mile
and I think
to myself
I really wish
they were on
my speed dial
Because when
you get
their attention
They know
you love them
and they give
so freely
they love
you back
with no
expectations
what a
blessing
to be
noticed
by small
children
with their
babble and
their waves
what's not
to appreciate
they feel
your loving
energy and
reciprocate
An insane System by any other name
Should still be considered simply insane
A prison by any other name
Could well be the throne
Of a primitivist's brain
A lifestyle by any other name
Would prefer to be called a "subculture"
A truth by any other name
May well be an early grave
After passing around
A bit of the blame
- Do we really wanna play this same game?
Again and again?
Just for the sake of its colloquial name?
Wait-Wait-Wait!
Don't shoot me yet!
I request a fancy blindfold and a pre-lit cigarette:
I want to look super cool
Without a single regret,
When the firing squad executes me
For being such an absurdly passive threat;
Otherwise,
Honestly,
It will feel like I've squandered
Another golden opportunity...
...And obviously,
I couldn't possibly try to live
After something like this...
Who am I?
Why am I me?
What will I be?
How do I be me?
Where is me?
When is it right to truly be me?
My own reflections are making me weak,
My own deceptions are making me bleak.
My own honesty is making me a mockery,
My own light is making me dark.
It is taking me over;
It has breached my cover.
It is neither tremendous nor tranquil,
I am consumed by my craving for whimsy.
The tranquility it offers me—
I am way above this buttery flee.
The bliss it comes with—
I am neither in my business nor between its sharp teeth.
I will not urge you to go easy on me,
I will not ask you for a serene salvation,
I will not take your heavenly throne,
And make it my own.
The share meant for me is set aside;
I only want that part.
No one can truly replace anyone,
Yet I am a stranger to who I have become.
I cannot cry the tears
that rise when my heart breaks.
So I draw them as words.
Each letter,
a silent scream.
I am a mute soul,
my voice sealed in ink.
My pages speak for me.
I am the stillness
between breath and ache,
a quiet presence
that tides through pain—
not broken,
but breaking open.
I am a boat
adrift on a sacred river,
with a wound in my side—
still floating,
still treading water,
afraid,
yet held by unseen hands.
I am the blank page—
so white,
so still—
and every word I write
is the echo of my emptiness
becoming full.
I am not just this ache,
not just this ink.
I am the hush beneath the storm,
the spark that refuses to dim.
I am the silence that speaks.
I am Goddess _ I have created myself sexless _ therefore I am neither he, she, or it.
I am called upon by many; however, the names you have given me are out of your need to express dominance_ for power is an unnecessary illusion driven by the lust to control. Control does not exist in the realm of unity.
I am neither good nor bad _ there is only action and reaction as-a-result of motion and emotion.
I have created myself formless _ therefore I am neither here nor there.
Upon your beck and call, I come to you in the image of your own comfort _ therefore you will recognize me.
I speak in every language, at-all-times _ therefore, you will only hear a sound when I am in motion as Life forms and reforms. There is never a quiet moment in the life continuum. There are those who constantly hear me even though I, myself am noiseless.
I am never at rest _ therefore, you will only see me in increments of momentary time.
I am colorless _ therefore, what you see is the residue of my past, which marks the spot of my future present, as I cycle and recycle in endless motion.
You may think I am beholding you and that you hear my voice, Nay! It is only the power of your thinking and your desire to remember me.
I am Goddess. I am Life. I am Continuous.
***09012020
Growth comes suddenly
Birthdays come as scheduled
Find gold in yourself.
I want to be a strong and gentle lover,
Who grows insatiably lovesick in sweet parting from the sticky sadness of summer.
I want to be a beautiful bluebird,
Who flew north faithful because of some splendid story he heard.
I want to be silly, a fool, daft, a puzzling predicament, absurd!
I want my life and my strife to be displayed and upstirred!
I want to be a better lover to the thoughts that slither through my skull.
But close tender my seeing eye to see my bitter being withstood.
My closed eye cannot pry how I might ever amount to much good.
I would love myself if I could,
But I'm not entirely sure I should.
There's only so much I could ever be,
I close my eyes and I can't see,
So cast my fickle eyes into the empty sea.
I wish I were a lover.
-end-
I am your worst nightmare and I haunt you as you sleep,
Virtual strangers we, but with a bond that runs real deep, Although you do not know me I've been there throughout your life,
And the pain that I inflict on you, it cuts you like a knife,
I am your worst enemy, but still your loyalest friend,
And to come and f*ck up your whole day on me you can depend,
I'm the one who knows you inside out, but the one from whom you hide,,
And the one who did destroy your esteem, confidence and pride,
I'm the one who takes all that you've got til you're stood there with f*ck all,
But even so, I think you know, that I'll catch you when you fall,
Do you know the one of whom I speak, if not please tell me why?
That you do not have the answer to the question, 'Who am I ?'
If the answer still evades you, take a look and you will see,
That the one there in the mirror, looking back at you...its me.
Upon the stage of life, fair maidens dance,
Their bodies stage props , they feign romance,
With painted faces, and affected charms,
They play their roles, and bear society's harms.
Forced to conform, to the whims of men,
They wear the mask, and hide their true yen,
Society's rules, they must obey,
And true identities, they must betray.
But underneath the surface, lies a soul,
A flame that flickers, trying to take control,
A spirit that yearns, to break the chains,
And shatter the facade, that society maintains.
The world's expectations, they cannot abide,
Their passions and dreams, they must subside,
In darkness and shadows, they weep and mourn,
Their true selves, forever forlorn.
Oh, fair maidens, let not society's grasp,
Strangle your spirit, and make it gasp,
Rise up, be true, and break the mold,
Your identity, a treasure to behold.
No more pretense, no more disguise,
Unleash the flame, that within you lies,
Embrace your power, let it shine,
And the world shall see, your light divine.
For in the end, it matters not,
What society thinks, or what they taught,
But that you lived, as your truest self,
And in doing so, found true wealth
Love is a word we want so desperately to believe,
But it’s not reality because it only means what we want to mean.
What a word so shallow with an illusion of meaning in a world so demeaning.
Am I real since I can be whatever people want me to be?
I can suddenly change everything in me.
So do we really know who we are?
If we make ourselves into whom we are!
I am not real!!
You’re not real!
The hands of fate squeeze me until I disappear.
I am an empty shell full of fear.
People’s words are so hollow.
But all they are words,
That feed us that we are suppose to swallow.
I thought all was real in what you had to say,
But I learn what’s lies in a perfect mask each and everyday.
I change all the time.
People change all the time.
We are all faded and fake.
I have nothing left to give and nothing left for people to take.
I don’t want to feel in a world that does not feel.
In a world not real!
Who am I!
Empty!
Emotions empty!!
Reality empty!!
Truth empty!!
Words empty!!
Tare my heart open! Empty!!
What a life so empty,
But not as empty as my life.
Empty life!
My life!
Your life!
patched up. got all patched up, they say. running like a jack rabbit, ready to go. because here comes spring! here it comes! gotta get patched up and ready. hammering around my chest cavity, my hearts running like a jack rabbit, ready to go. it rattles so loud the underground can hear. way down under they hammer away and put patches in place so we can all be running like jack rabbits, ready to go. patches with stitches round the edges, with thread pulled tight, tight, tight. that fabric stretches over muscle to pull two ends closer; it’s okay that my body doesn’t do it right on its own. it’s okay to be patched. it’s okay to be altered, hemmed, and wound up with a crank every few months. it’s okay to be running like a jack rabbit, ready to go.
with my weird little eyes and jumpy, jittery body, i can go on for so long before being chased. no, not chased. hunted. yes, hunted. i’m patched up prey, thundering through the field. thump, thump, thump, my eyes don’t blink. do you think i’ve invited the predator? does it feel that way to you? because i’m all patched up and look a little crazy? move a little crazy? i’ve got a good repairman, hasn’t been a job unfixable yet. this is just how jack rabbits are, ready to go.