Identity Poems | Examples of Identity Poetry

Is AI a staunch friend with double face that whispers “I love you, but will replace Do its words capture a thought we just had write it much better; if so, why be mad Its chest of words is much greater by far synonym surplus, its door stands ajar And, by the way, they paint lovely, also Can there be...

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A Name “His name shall be called…” A great statement of His glory. Yet immediately we reason, Let’s compare it to your story. Many problems loom large. Deafening sound takes the stage. Often wronged in the attempts. Your own advice, you are the sage. We’re hard at life, trying To keep...

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Sponsor : Unseeking Seeker 12.8.25 inquiry: “the essence in us is the same as the essence of the sun” “We are liberated from everything & everyone when we know who we...

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Being great is in my destiny, they say. I have a hidden talent, they say. Am I blind, or is the world buried under sand? Hidden and being expected to thrive is like sipping air or dust for soul. Is it just me or is it all of us? They expect the unexpected but when things go south, You're left to...

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I was looking at the world through my eyes, curious to see its parallel side. I had grief because I was seeing it through blood, but as I heard my praises and insults, glanced over the beautiful mountains and growing poverty, that became my biggest pride — to witness the world like this. But when my hand started to grow cold from the pain...

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Love is not something that belongs only to a living soul. It could be anything your soul is tied to. Neither human nor god, but something you chose above them both— that is what love truly is. You look at it and know you cannot live without it. It is not a person, nor devotion. That is love....

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IN ATTIC HALLS ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In attic halls of memories past, I find solace in stories steadfast. For in the remnants of a life lived and told, lies the truth of who I am, young and old. ...

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I look at my soul killing its flaws. I appreciate it and let it do so. But when I came back to earth to show them a perfect human, I realized my mistakes made me who I am. Without my flaws, I am just a perfect human—but not me. ...

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The bark peels back like old skin— Mine, yours, the cinnamon scrolls Of what we shed to live. August Bleaches the world to bone, the bark’s faint spice Rising in the noon glare, Heat tasting of salt and sand. And still this Crape crowns Itself with Myrtle fire. Still— I cannot explain what breaks in me. Still I press my cheek Against its...

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You wear your flag like a second skin, the colors bright, the threads worn thin; And speak of victories long ago, In voices proud, yet soft and low. The tales are told, again, again the triumphs carved in dust and pen; The papers shout what you should hear, While silencing what’s less sincere. You count your coins, you guard your name, you say it’s...

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I walk with a weight that I never quite chose, But somehow it fits, like the thorn on a rose. The pain and the beauty, they bloom just the same— Two sides of a story that whisper my name. Born of a mother whose roots ran so deep, But stolen at birth in a silence that still weeps. They called it...

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Don’t think too hard. They sting behind your eyes. Sharp swells from the recessing snake pit. Faces warp, wrap, and real. Knotted limbs of trying tapestry. The marriage of scale and skin. Remember to forget. My soul was not to keep. A window woe. Through eyes not mine, I see. Take from me what was yours already. Prisoner....

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LABOR OF LOVE THOUGHTS ON AWARENESS OF THE NEEDS OF SELF AND THOSE OF OTHERS Hey there, where you are now, I feel more than you can know; In my life’s time, I too, have been there many times before:- Now, in awareness, I’ve learned that you just have to be the real you; Not endeavoring to be...

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The hollow remains unphotographed. Memory, not landscape, frames it— a road cleaving winter in two, children laughing while gravity negotiated its own terms. Neighbors spoke without flourish. Their kindness was practical, never advertised, always assumed. You could leave your grief on the porch overnight; someone would tuck it in and leave bread beside it by morning. Coal knew every surname but never asked for praise. It shaped the valley, not into...

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The circle turns, its edges smooth A line that holds, yet... a line that soothes. Its center still, its purpose clear A timeless truth that gently... draws us near. For to walk the circle is to see The Self as part of infinity. Its path unbroken, round and true It holds the many, yet... speaks...

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