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Best Poems About / On IDENTITY
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197.
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950. Mother, Demolish my identity! Let me go out of ego cover! 240208
Amma,
As a floating balloon traps air from atmosphere
My little self is ensnared by I encircling sphere!
Prick the wall! Let the air out to be one with sky
Crush the I! Let the self out to be one with thy!
As a floating sealed earthen pot of water in Ganges
My identity blocks all way that self with Self mergence
Break the pot! Let the water mingle with Holy River
Demolish my identity! Let me go out of ego cover!
As the charismatic silence is being the language of Love
Why the stupid mind is always engaged chattering loud?
As blissful state is my true nature in vigilance full
Why am I chased by sorrow pertained to body small?
As the ever expanding space is my dwelling place
Why am I bound in a fragile body with nine holes?
As all the objects under universe ever belong to me
Why am I after trivial things, bound by senses five? 240208
Raman Savithiri
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198.
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The King's Daughter
The daughter of a king
What does this world know.
No paper no proof
No place of identity to show.
Her worlds humble themselves
At her feet each day.
For her royal features
Her charm and talents displayed.
She's a king's daughter
She's loyal and family true.
No culture wouldn't be proud
If they only knew.
Forced to keep her identity
By her peers and contingents each day.
To escape defiled repugnance
Is her lifes ransom she pays.
She never cries out
She is given everything
But her heart lies heavy
From her memories of the King.
Cecelia Weir
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Read more: identity poems, culture poems, daughter poems, family poems, world poems, heart poems, memory poems
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199.
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Sinful identity
It wasnt the slightest in my hands to choose the
parents who had so handsomely procreated me; nor was
it my fault that the house in which I emitted my first
infantile cry; overflowed with unfathomable oceans of
glittering gold,
But it would irrefutably be the greatest sin if I
baselessly rejoiced and took all their hard-earned
wealth for granted; miserably dithered in my
impoverished life to carve a philanthropically
blissful identity of my very own
.
It wasnt the slightest in my hands to choose the
parents who had so majestically procreated me; nor was
it my fault that the house in which I emitted my
first baby cry; had an endless inundation of sparkling
currency coin,
But it would irrefutably be the greatest sin if I
parasitically feasted and took all their hard-earned
wealth for granted; pathetically staggered in my
diminutive life to carve a synergistically blazing
identity of my very own
.
It wasnt the slightest in my hands to choose the
parents who had so wonderfully procreated me; nor was
it my fault that the house in which I emitted my first
incoherent cry; remained perpetually embellished with
resplendently enamoring diamonds,
But it would irrefutably be the greatest sin if I
derogatorily marauded and took all their hard-earned
wealth for granted; dismally stuttered in my truncated
life to carve a celestially vibrant identity of my
very own
It wasnt the slightest in my hands to choose the
parents who had so marvelously procreated me; nor was
it my fault that the house in which I emitted my first
nimble cry; contained every speck of prosperity on
this timeless planet,
But it would irrefutably be the greatest sin if I
indiscriminately terrorized and took all their
hard-earned wealth for granted; meaninglessly quavered
in my destined life to carve a beautifully magnanimous
identity of my very own
..
It wasnt the slightest in my hands to choose the
parents who had so amazingly procreated me; nor was it
my fault that the house in which I emitted my first
inaudible cry; had its foundations resting on an
insurmountable mountain of pearls,
But it would irrefutably be the greatest sin if I
savagely massacred and took all their hard-earned
wealth for granted; horrendously trembled in my
penurious life to carve an iridescently kingly
identity of my very own
.
It wasnt the slightest in my hands to choose the
parents who had so gorgeously procreated me; nor was
it my fault that the house in which I emitted my first
incongruous cry; solely diffused the fragrance of
everlastingly priceless richness,
But it would irrefutably be the greatest sin if I
satanically splurged and took all their hard-earned
wealth for granted; gruesomely faltered in my
pecuniary life to carve a spell bindingly righteous
identity of my very own
.
It wasnt the slightest in my hands to choose the
parents who had so divinely procreated me; nor was it
my fault that the house in which I emitted my first
evanescent cry; harbored countless trees from which
gloriously fructified currency coin instead of leaves,
But it would irrefutably be the greatest sin if I
ruthlessly blew and took all their hard-earned wealth
for granted; disdainfully lost in my flickering life
to carve an enchantingly vivacious identity of my very
own
.
It wasnt the slightest in my hands to choose the
parents who had so Omnipotently procreated me; nor was
it my fault that the house in which I emitted my first
meek cry; was the hub of all state-of-the art
businesses that unfurled on the trajectory of this
fathomless planet,
But it would irrefutably be the greatest sin if I
insanely trampled and took all their hard-earned
wealth for granted; flagrantly wavered in my limited
life to carve an ingratiatingly altruistic identity of
my very own
..
And it wasnt the slightest in my hands to choose the
parents who had so blessedly procreated me; nor was it
my fault that the house in which I emitted my first
nervous cry; was the most indefatigably serenaded
castle in the entire world since times immemorial,
But it would irrefutably be the greatest sin if I
cold-bloodedly spat and took all their hard-earned
wealth for granted; unscrupulously dithered in my
indigent life to carve a harmoniously distinct
identity of my very own
.
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
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200.
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Truthis as old as God
836
Truthis 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.
Emily Dickinson
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Read more: identity poems, truth poems, god poems
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