Self Identity Poems

As I Slam Arthritic Hands Into A Broken Keyboard, Nobody Can Hear Me Screaming

In a rather egotistical
and pathetic attempt
to immortalize myself,
in something I lost,
everything.

And now that I’ve burned
all of my bridges and I’m drowning,
the only thing I have left
to do is work. 

And it's not working.

And the only ones
praising my work
are little kids,
the same age I was
when I broke everything.

Lucky me.

I watch them do
the same foolish things,
reaching for

I am the silence that speaks

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

Tarnished Light

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

Conscious Intentions

Looking in the mirror as I get ready for my day
         
         believing in myself to create the life I desire to live
         
       

Self Identity

Growth comes suddenly
Birthdays come as scheduled
Find gold in yourself.

Breaking Molds

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

Who Am I

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

-hopeless Romantic-

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

Rabbit Anthem

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

I Am Goddess

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

Self-Identity

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

Self-Identity As a Self-Made Predicament, Or, More Fun With Socratic Irony

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

Self Identity

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

Self Identity

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

Self-Identity

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?

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