Your life will be a blessed and balanced experience if you first honor your identity and priority.
quote by Russell M. Nelson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Identity Of I
Identity is not what I promise others
Identity is what I do when I am alone
Identity is what I think of others
Knowing all the hatred they've shown
Identity is what every wound reminds me
Identity is what I learn and what I pass by
Identity is what I see in the mirror
After giving my best try
Identity is what I make out of my given chance
Identity is what I accept and what I deny
No one else has control over me
Life is about me, and what I identify
poem by Abhiraj Rajadhyaksha
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lonely Spider
The lonely spider reaches out
For what, you might ask?
If not to spin his web then for what?
For his identity
The identity of him
His identity...
The lonely spider calls out
For what, you might ask?
If not for his mate then for what?
For his identity
The identity of him
His identity...
The lonely spider waits
For what, you might ask?
If not for his food then for what?
For his identity
The identity of him
His identity...
'A spider doesn't have feelings! '
How should you know?
'A spider isn't that smart! '
That could be true.
'A spider can never have a real identity! '
And neither could you, or any of us
But we try to find one even if we're not looking
And thats our life... after which we die
What have we done with our life up until then?
Either we've thrown it away, gave it up, wrecked it, lived it up to the fullest, took it for granted, or got far in it.
We still had one.
It's up to us what we shall do with it
Just like the lonely spider
Who will probably just end up on the bottom of your shoe anyways
poem by Andreanna Atkins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Able To See Yourself Reflected
To those who have never,
Come to experience...
A losing of their child's life.
Or know what it is like,
To grieve and suffer through...
This feeling known that never leaves.
It is not a headache that comes and goes away.
The feeling of the image can not be numbed.
And those who say...
'It will be okay.' It never is... okay!
To those who have never,
Come to experience...
A losing of their child's life.
Or know what it is like,
Feel blessed you have not yet...
Endured that process.
Be blessed to have children,
Who can come to pluck your last nerve.
Feel blessed you are able to see yourself reflected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hidden Underneath
Look at me.
And look at what I've got.
'Which is? '
Things.
I've got things.
'Which are?
And does what...
For whom? '
Impress.
'Who?
Impressed by 'that'?
I am not.
What else can you show me,
That you've got? '
Me?
'Is that a question?
Is that hidden underneath an identity,
I can not see? '
Identity?
That's not my priority.
'You are right.
And that is quite obvious.
As clear as clean glass
Anyone can see through.'
Well...
At least I am showing something I can offer.
'To who?
And what would that be? '
MY things.
'And that would leave you with...
What? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Is A Feeling Embedded In One's Mind
The memory of losing a child,
Never leaves.
It is a feeling embedded in one's mind,
To remain as if a hole unplugged...
Can not be fixed.
There is a feeling of guilt that revisits,
From time to time.
And those who have never had that experience,
Are blessed not to know it.
Although those who do know,
What that experience is like...
Can sympathize with those who say,
'You have no idea,
How these children of mine can get on my last nerve.
Ten minutes!
If I only had ten minutes to myself.
Without them constantly on my mind I'd be happy.'
~You are right.
I have not been blessed to have that experience.
However,
Once they arrive...
Your life is no longer yours.
They will be on your mind until your life is over.~
'Oh yeah?
How would you know? '
~It's a feeling I get.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Will Know When It Has Been Discovered
I can not award you confirmation...
Of who it is you are.
With an identity felt.
Connected to an adjoining dignity.
I've never had the experience,
Of living with such emptiness inside of me.
I've been blessed to know who it is I am.
With a testing that is done daily,
By those who refuse to accept...
Nothing I do that appears on the surface,
Is not without its depth!
I can not award you confirmation...
Of who it is you are.
With an identity felt.
Connected to an adjoining dignity.
That you will have to determine for yourself.
And you will know when it has been discovered.
When few will accept,
The strength reflected you project.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children Our Blessed Responsibility
our children
are our greatest
blessing
society
does not
value family
friendship enough
love and appreciation
are beautiful gifts
happy are parents
enjoying quality time
with their children
as a balanced daily priority
life for a wise minority
is not material perplexity
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Blessed Am I
How blessed am I for being born
Of parents good and God-fearing!
How blessed am I for siblings nine
Who made my childhood truly great!
How blessed am I for being made
Handsome and healthy, fair and hale!
How blessed am I for gaining ken
And virtues, wisdom, fortitude!
How blessed am I for being reared
So well by parents dutiful!
How blessed am I for achievements
Quite praiseworthy in life on earth!
How blessed am I for having fared
So well in life in every field!
How blessed am I for talents, gifts
That most men cannot dream to have!
How blessed am I for miracles
That gave my life a newer lease!
How blessed am I for finding time
To thank and praise the Almighty!
How blessed am I for grace of God
That goads me on in heaven’s road!
How blessed am I for everything
God gave me amply in His time!
How blessed am I for love of God
That chose me to be Christian!
How blessed am I for hope and faith
That help me follow Jesus’ steps!
How blessed am I for poesy
That made my life stress-free, worthwhile!
How blessed am I for God’s with me
And I’m with Him in earthly life!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Caesarean Child
Who is this caesarean child named caesar?
Great thought is this child and brave are his deeds.
Honor has he for all but fear he depicts none
This child who dwelled in the delphos of eve
And now caesarean child bear his identity
So envy am i this child of caesarean
To take the path took he come my world
For great and brave desire i to be too
As when lived great julius caesar.
Caesarean child be thou my replica
Men and wenches honor and fear thee
And so caesarean honor but fears none
For men are born by women and are womanish
Caesarean child born he not by a weaker vessel
And so brave and great are his deeds
O' happy i this caesarean child is my identity.
poem by Lightcheerful Briggs
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Accountabilty My Greatest Priority
Something to fight is corruption
Something to embrace is accountability
Nothing better than perfection
Everything to get in this race as our priority
Accountability my greatest priority
With dignity as the only identity
As corruption never makes glow
Growing is what makes glow
With proofs to show
Development then becomes
The next room-mate
As success shall surely be our fate
Accountability gives us good fate
Integrity just our faith
With this accountability light of mine
We will certainly shine
poem by Ehimika Ehimigbai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's the best thing ever - I love being a mom. This is my only child. My career was a priority earlier in my life, but now my son is definitely the priority.
quote by Stephanie Mills
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grown to Bloom
In the days gone,
When I took for granted...
My life.
And the ease of complicity,
I had accepted nature...
As it surrounded me.
I've grown to bloom!
I've grown to comprehend...
What begins ends soon.
To feed a process,
I am blessed to experience.
And...
I have learned to enjoy whatever it is,
I do!
More than any time before!
Now that I know I can open doors!
And not be concerned how it was done.
That task...
I leave in the hands of a mind,
Far greater than mine.
I've grown to bloom...
To wither.
To feed a process,
I am blessed to experience.
Until I have finally come to rest,
In the nest of eternity!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Keep Sitting Where You Are
Needing direction?
With a flavored taste,
Representing a life...
You are afraid to experience and live?
Keep sitting where you are.
I'm sure someone will come along,
With a few seconds to spare...
They are willing to either donate,
Or let you borrow.
Keep your fingers crossed!
You never know about these things.
One day you just might meet someone,
Who believes your life is more of a priority...
Than their own to live!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Know This and Take Notice
Whatever it is you believe I am.
And from 'whatever' point of view,
This is observed.
Know this...
I have earned to do as I please.
You can edit, splice and dice my life...
With gossip you lip.
But know this...
My gratefulness and blessings I get,
Are not exchanged with you in mind.
Know this...
I suggest you not waste your time,
On someone who has both identity and peace of mind.
And know this about that...
To someone who has earned to be who and what they are,
You are far from being a priority.
And distant from being placed on their agenda.
In other words...
You do not exist!
Not for someone like this!
Or me.
Know this and take notice.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Me: The thief of my Identity
The thief of my Identity
To my Friends and Family
My true Identity
Is all that makes me
I stole my identity
My personality
What I live for, What I breath for
What I'd fight for, what I'd die for
If not for my soul,
I would be lost once again
For my True Identity has fled me
Fled me for another
It is the dancing shadow you play with,
The beauty you can see in yourself,
And the hostility.
It wants to see you suffer,
It is most content, when you are in despair.
When I can look into my self
and find the real Identity of my inner self,
Until then I will not blame anyone
for my misfortune
poem by Brad Combs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Driven By a 'Drive' Makes Life Worth Living
Each day we live to witness,
Has its own identity.
And each day we see begin,
From Sunrise to Sunset's end...
Has reason to be,
Like none before it...
Gone and experienced.
To live life inspite of what others may say,
In whatever day that is done.
Everyone has a different appreciation for life.
Some choose to limit their existences,
By being busy beavers in other folks' business.
And doing that with a priority.
Since their own lives are empty with purpose.
And no one should live without having an interest.
A hobby or 'something' to call their own....
Makes the sharing of this,
An adventure more condoned
Others are observed enjoying each second,
As if it is their last.
I admire the ones who are obviously in pain.
Walking around with assisted 'walkers'.
Or getting from A to B with the support of a cane.
And driven by a 'drive' makes life worth living.
Each day has its own identity.
As sure as we decide to address and change agendas.
Exhaling what has been inhaled,
With a breath released to push out.
And there are no guarantees that are offered to us.
No matter if we scream and shout.
Or keep it 'twisted' like Chubby Checker.
'Chubby who? '
~Let's keep this moving forward! ~
Thank you!
Although we believe we can adopt certainties.
Like having a 'career' after spending thousands,
On getting a college degree.
Or receiving an award for some display of loyalty.
And many believe they can live each day,
Doing exactly what they please.
WE don't have those opportunities.
Not to do 'exactly' what we please!
I don't care where someone parks their yacht.
Or make claims how many millions it takes,
To keep them from feeling worthless.
But each day that comes to us,
If we are blessed to live it.
Needs from us a committment shown...
We are grateful to participate,
By creating 'something' to give and celebrate.
Not hoard or brag about how we stay entrapped...
By 'things' that can't touch us back.
Like grass and the leaves on trees.
Or watching a river flow...
From atop a hill and 'still' we lookup,
With our eyes opened wide under falling snow.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Without A Priority
Finding oneself...
Might take a lifetime.
And,
Finding one's life...
May not be...
Any need.
But...
Finding one's happiness,
Without a wanting...
May be possible.
But without a priority,
How can this succeed?
Finding oneself and untieing the knots,
May take a lifetime.
And finding one's life without a tear to drop,
May not be a need.
But...
Finding one's happiness without a crave,
May be possible.
But without a priority,
How can this succeed?
Without priority,
How this succeed?
Finding oneself...
Might,
Take a lifetime.
And finding one's life may not,
Be...
Anybody's need,
And...
Finding one's true happiness,
Without a wanting...
May be possible.
But without priority...
How can one succeed?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Joy, rather than happiness, is the goal of life, for joy is the emotion which accompanies our fulfilling our natures as human beings. It is based on the experience of one's identity as a being of worth and dignity.
My Anticipated Celebration
Lost in the midst of unending thought
In the dark
Longing to see the end of the tunnel
Oh, how wonderful the experience to behold.
Anticipating the experience
Filled with mountainous expectation
Let my hope see me through
And take away the dark…
Come in, illumination
Your identity unfold
And bring to end
This unwanted longing experience.
That the white community be unfolded
From end to end
Let the white have their day
And the atmosphere filled with elation.
poem by Bamisaye Adeniran
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Identity of a person
Identity of a person
Identity signifies complexity
Identity identifies with reality
Identity is the bearer of all vanity
How does a person identify with identity?
You define yourself based on what?
They say, they say
You’re kind or moral based on what?
Or
You’re a genius and shrewd based on what?
Or
You make the perfect lover, look for no other
They say, they say
You’re strong without a thought it may not last long
Or
You’ve skills since with a record you run up high bills
Or
You are shy but no one ever talks to you or says hi
Or
You never give up because right now you are on top
They say, they say
You are generous or gregarious when all you are is conscious
Or
You’re innovative yet not the originator of the idea conceived
What are the facts?
That makes your identity intact
When change on identity has the last impact?
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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