Is Man A Winner Or A Loser?
Woman has a poof that the child is hers;
Man has no such proof to claim on the child.
She is cool with the child as identity.
He is desperate for his identity.
Identity crisis has disturbed him.
He invented marriage and chained woman.
He imposed chastity to mark his kids
And introduced patriarchal system.
Identity crisis has troubled him.
He assumed control over women.
He retained the progeny in his name
And made concubines to silence woman.
Identity crisis has worried him.
He bottled woman's skill and built up his.
He grew to be a Scholar. Sculptor and Poet
And assigned to woman the entertaining.
Identity crisis has bothered him.
He treated woman as her property.
He acquired family unfailingly
And labourd for its upkeep and status.
Identity crisis has bored him.
Water as she is, man could not cut her.
Tired of heat outside, man needed a shade
And sheltered himself in woman's coolness.
Woman treated man with due sympathy
With no fight with him for identity.
Her child is enough for her identity.
She helped him to anchor himself in her.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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
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Identity
Identity
Is the crisis
Can't you see
Identity identity
When you look in the mirror
Do you see yourself
Do you see yourself
On the t.v. screen
Do you see yourself
In the magazine
When you see yourself
Does it make you scream
When you look in the mirror
Do you smash it quick
Do you take the glass
And slash your wrists
Did you do it for fame
Did you do it in a fit
Did you do it before
You read about it
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Identity
Identity
Is the crisis
Can't you see
Identity identity
When you look in the mirror
Do you see yourself
Do you see yourself
On the t.v. screen
Do you see yourself
In the magazine
When you see yourself
Does it make you scream
When you look in the mirror
Do you smash it quick
Do you take the glass
And slash your wrists
Did you do it for fame
Did you do it in a fit
Did you do it before
You read about it
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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Love is sought for identity.
To strive for love of mother,
of father, of teacher, of peers,
of elders, springs from
identity crisis.
To strive for love of the beloved
is out the deepest identity crisis.
Seers like women followers.
04.11.2001, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Identity Crisis!
When born, I was called “baby”
And later they called me “Abby”
Within 5 years they called me “student”
And for 7 years, like that I spent
Then they called me “teen”
I loved it and felt like a queen
Then I was called “woman”
And those times, were the best
Then some one tied a knot and called me “wife”
I hated those times, it was horrible and gross
In years I became “mother”
It was beautiful but tough
Then being called “grandma”
My times got better and better
Then at last I was called “old”
And my body was frail and cold
All this time I wondered,
Where my identity has gone
Some where in the middle, I had lost it
Through the ages, I had a crisis
An identity crisis to say!
DECEMBER 23,2008
poem by Sania Harris
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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
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The single mother
The word bastard has lost its stigma.
Having child without marriage is no more a sin
Single motherhood has come as a welcome sign.
The yoke of marriage is dispensed with.
The word chastity has lost its meaning.
Having affairs is not construed as shame.
No need of pre or extra marital.
The yoke of commitment is dispensed with.
The word husband has lost its standing.
No need of a man to head a family.
Sex without obligation is his blessing.
The yoke of monogamy is dispensed with.
The word father has lost its identity.
The pleasure of servility is gone.
To work for posterity is stripped.
The yoke of sweat is dispensed with.
The word mother has retained its strength.
Pleasure of her identity is established.
Possessiveness of woman is not threatened.
The yoke of bondage is dispensed with.
Man and woman are as free as cave men.
Variety in sex keeps their lust feeding.
Want of companionship will doom their end.
The yoke of orphanage will soon threaten.
01.09.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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Preserve Family
Man will put his trust in woman
For an exchange of fidelity.
Breach of fidelity amounts
To the forfeiting the trust of his
Restraints of sexual impulses
Are the outcome of fidelity.
Restraints of evil tendencies
Are the result of trustworthiness.
Trust is wider than fidelity.
A part of the trust is fidelity.
In spite of infidelity,
Trustworthiness can be still there.
Marriage is built on mutual trust.
Fail marks in one of the subjects
Should not warrant total dismissal.
Be that field improved or overlooked.
A man tends to flirt with other women
And still stands by his own woman.
A woman who responds to men’s lure
Can still be loyal to her husband.
Man’s disloyalty doesn’t hurt
Woman as much as woman’s does.
It is more from his possessiveness.
It is more from his assertiveness.
Love and trust travel beyond sex.
Wife’s status is husband’s status.
Child’s status id parents status.
Identity will take care of trust.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Your ethnic or sexual identity, what region of the country you're from, what your class is - those aspects of your identity are not the same as your aesthetic identity.
quote by Stanley Crouch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Proof or no proof
No surnames before or after
Carries the meaning thereafter
A simple label for acknowledgement
Still it may invite many comments
We may add suitable prefix or suffix
It is to cater the feeling mix
All to vapor in time to come
Who else will wait for us to welcome?
We may change the status in times to come
For public consumption and good welcome
It will trouble still the big crisis
You try for futile bid with clear emphasis
Identity or no identity or proof or no proof
We have to remain lone and aloof
No surname or cast given at birth
Human will perish as human after death
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Uncertainty for Friend J.T. Ellison
There is a question troubling me.
How do I know that I am me?
You question my identity
I answer satisfactorily.
You are convinced that I am me.
Though I have passed your scrutiny
and proved I’m who I claim to be
I’m half convinced that I might be
somebody else who thinks he’s me.
This worries me considerably.
I can’t be sure that I am me
A crisis of identity.
You would worry if you were me
plagued by this uncertainty.
6-May-08
http: //blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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My Identity
So lost deep inside,
Is all that makes me.
My true identity,
Is hard to see.
To my friends and family,
I’m a different me.
I have a secret identity,
Wonder if you’ll ever see.
My thoughts and actions,
Are all that makes me,
But some things I may do,
May not describe me.
Now look inside me,
If you ever feel,
like it,
I’m no-one but me,
Never hiding my identity.
Don’t say I am hypocrisy,
Because I never showed you,
two of me.
Now please,
Look at me,
Try to see the real me.
I’m no-one but,
my real identity.
All full of beauty,
Inside me.
poem by Yisel Chong
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Hilda
I know a woman she is forty three
And she still search for an identity
I'm still a stranger to myself she say
And in the maze of life I've lost my way.
Retrenched from her job earlier this year
She does not know where she is going from here
She now live on welfare a quarter of her wage
And her barrier to employment is her age.
With job seekers half of her age she must compete
And she feels that by time she has been beat
At forty three on the wrong side of time
And employers see her as well beyond her prime.
She was a young woman twenty years ago
And Hilda herself still doesn't seem to know
Where her life's going to, she feels a lost soul
And a bleak looking future on the dole.
I know a woman she is unemployed
And out of work to her means loss of pride
And though on her birthday she was forty three
She still searches for an identity.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Lost identity.
Lost identity.
My dream as a child.
Became a passion in my youth.
To search for my identity.
And search for the truth.
I differentiated myself from every other mortal.
I differentiated myself for a subtle known cause.
To be the best amongst all of them.
And to prevent them not to know of my identity loss
The good that I achieved
Doesn’t seem to be no more
Or probably it wasn’t good enough
For my conscience to be sure
I was probably the most competitive
In an effort to establish my superiority
I’m still to reach that ultimate position
To re-establish my lost identity.
written by salma torrez. copyright
poem by Salma. Torrez
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Child Woman, Woman Child
Orbison/dees
Coo coo, thats you, wonder why I love you, you do voodoo, thunder clouds above you
Crazy, kooky, lazy spooky, oh what a clown, always around
And I have found youre a woman. child woman. woman child
Long legged woman when I see you walking you look good
Hey little woman when I hear you talking you sound good
Child woman, woman child youre driving me wild child woman woman child
Youre into my mind then youre out of my mind child woman
You wind and unwind my mind, time after time child woman ooh child woman, yeah child woman
Flying uptight, dont know where youre going, trying your kite when the wind is blowing
Funny lady, sunny, shady off to the fair, sun in your hair
Oh, youre aware youre a woman child woman, woman child
Strong minded woman when you start groovin you look fine
My kind of woman when you start movin you look fine
Child woman, woman child youre driving me wild child woman woman child
I dont see you there, I see you everywhere child woman
I dont even care -yes, I really do care child woman, ooh child woman,
Hey child woman child woman, woman child
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chauvinist
I’d never really comprehended such a mighty range of
Shapes and sizes down behind, it’s really rather strange:
The buttock muscle in a woman, overlaid with fat
Is actually such a focal point for men to want to pat
Or squeeze, and then to tease her if it’s eminently stout,
Or even risk a stay in clink to sting it with a clout!
After all, we men are tuned to be that way inclined –
And tho’ our needs are varied, girls, they’re all perverse of mind!
Best of all, our sacred dream: to see her shed her gown
When gliding to the shower for the ritual sponging down.
But then alas! With body lathered, oops! she drops the soap;
‘Please! ’ we beg her, ‘bend and bare! ’ But we can only hope!
I’m sure by now you get the picture – like a rule of thumb –
That men like me obsess all day about the fairer bum.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
My dreams are of a
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The narrative constructs the identity of the character, what can be called his or her narrative identity, in constructing that of the story told. It is the identity of the story that makes the identity of the character.
quote by Paul Ricoeur
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Every Woman, A Diana
In every woman is a river of love
that flows to all lands
that feels, that comforts and understands.
In every woman is a sea of pain
when rejected, when unwanted
by those whom she commits to live with.
In every woman is a dark cloud
of uncertainty of one`s identity
projected in many mysterious ways.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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