Pink Sari
When took a dip in Ganga
that pink sari
imbibed a lot of Advaitha.
...glued to her skin
and lost identity...
became a mound of her mounds
curve of her curves
and dip of her dips.
I knew how euphoric that pinky felt
When dried up and separated from her
...retained her shape.
poem by Sathya Narayana
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From The Banks Of Ganga II
Who lived atop
Those distant hills
Where flickered
A lamp or two
During the nights?
Come night
Ganga turns
Into an enchanting black beauty
Her hilly banks
And the sky:
One overwhelming
Sheet of darkness clinging to
The beautiful Ganga
Flowing in that stillness of night
Her skin shining in ripples of gold
Laughing in mirth
Singing a resonant melody
Along the flow
Ganga, the enchantress
Ganga, the mother
Ganga, the worshipful
Day or night
Little difference
To people who came to her
To pay their obeisance
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Piggy take care
Rolly polly pissly polly,
you run on puddles muddy
destroying your pink body,
To make terrifyingly dirty.
Oh dear piggy when will you understand
That you've got to take care of your pink skin,
If you really really can
Because if you don't then passers by
will think your pinky skin,
as a dirty garbage bin.
So, do little piggy come
and take care of yourself,
Otherwise you will find yourself
in a big dark oven! ! !
poem by Hansika Subramanian
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From the Banks of Ganga: I
Ganga,
What glaciers have
Melted in silence?
Ganga,
How many mighty glaciers
Now flow with a roar?
Ganga,
From the divine tresses
Through the sage’s ears
Carefully led for redemption
Trapped
Restive
ViolentFrom the mighty skies
Down the abode of gods
Humbled!
Ganga,
Amidst hills
Connecting the sky
And the earth
Ganga,
Scintillating
Sonorous
Desire too flowed
The desire to gather
Ganga to my bosom!
Ganga,
At the foot of the hills
I stand in supplication
At the divine feet
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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From the Banks of Ganga: III
Who tends these trees
Thick and green on the hill slopes?
Who for do they bear leaf?
Who for do they feast?
Who created this waterfall
Of unseen origin trickling
From between the trees into the Ganga
Ganga mai
The eternal mother
Creator and destroyer
Ganga mai
Who sustains and devours
Ma, Ganga
I approach you
A child, hungry and forlorn
Longing to retreat into your womb
To be nurtured
And to be re-born!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Lost In Subdivisions
Lost in subdivisions!
Lost in a struggle,
with sterotypes.
Lost between religious beliefs,
and an identity...
never felt or reached.
None that felt complete.
Lost with others,
appearing detached and empty.
Lost and feeling unsuitable...
Without a sense that connects to an entity!
And nowhere is it seen,
the importance of this addressed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Her personality? Her identity?
There it is, all of it.
Gone, and never ever coming back, ever.
It felt like she was throwing away her most prized poession.
She wondered what the new one would be like?
Obviously nothing like the old one, she knew that.
No one liked the bubbly, friendly, sweet girl inside her.
Instead they wanted her to be a boring serious woman with no fun in her life,
If that's what you could even call it - a life.
She never understood why her family never liked her personality,
It was who she was, what made her, her identity.
But now they'd changed her.
Her friends never realized the change in her, as while with them she pretended nothing was different and tried to act as normal as before.
To them she was still the girl who found the funny side of everything and the girl who always had a smile on her face.
She wasn't though, it was all an act, for she no longer felt the warm glow deep inside her when she saw the smiling faces of her friends and family, no, now she felt a dark hatred feeling like something was missing or lost,
And to find it she must find herself, her true identity.
What was her true identity? The question stuck midway on her tongue.
Never to be spoken, yet never to disappear.
poem by Jodie Louise Pollock
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Angel Boy
(danny orton)
My mother said theres only one way
A sweet angel boy, narrow and straight
Timing his past, teachings they fade
Now their angel boy has gone astray
Ive felt the hand of the devil, felt his breath on my skin
Dip me into the water, wash me again
Can I still be forgiven for all of these things
Or have I gone too far now
Have I lost my wings
I found a priest, I spoke my mind
Asked if Id sinned one too many times
He said my son, youre only a man
Then I said, sir, you dont understand
Ive felt the hand of the devil, felt his breath on my skin
Dip me into the water, wash me again
Can I still be forgiven for all of these things
Or have I gone too far now
Have I lost my wings
God help us all for what we have done
Weve lost our way, we cant find the son
We make our beds, we seal our fate
Is there still time, or is it too late
Weve felt the hand of the devil, felt his breath our my skin
Dip us into the water, wash us again
Can we still be forgiven for all of these things
Or have we gone too far now
Have we lost our wings
Weve felt the hand of the devil, felt his breath our my skin
Dip us into the water, wash us again
Can we still be forgiven for all of these things
Or have we gone too far now
Have we lost our wings
Have we lost our wings
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pink Pink
pink pink
Confirmed that it was armed
pink pink
Was right to be alarmed
pink pink
Ensured that nought was harmed
pnk pink
Steady hand and mind
pink pink
Micro-chip designed
pink pink
The password was declined
pink pink
Another course to take
pink pink
Caution not to shake
pink pink
Captivity a mistake
pink pink
Beads upon the brow
pink pink
Experience the how
pink pink
No chance to turn back now
pink pink
Be certain not to slip
pink pink
One last wire to snip
pink pink
Two hearts that skip a beat
penk penk
The sound that gives a lift
penk penk
Time to collect the gift
penk penk
The robbery will be swift
poem by Chris Dawson
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Undress me! ! ! ! !
Living under a cover
Hiding me.....
Undress my emotions
I want to break free
The inside clown
Long left the stage
Under his mask
A human disguised
Friend, foe or love
This human decides
Changes identity
Changes faces
Amidst the crowd
Masks to change
How do i select? ? ?
When i've lost the clown......
Humans are not unique
Indeed not
Carrying their masks along
Identical and fake
My lost identity
Glued with masks
Shed me off this burden
Undress me
Undress me............
poem by Royston Serrao
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Lost To Your Love
When we first met, I was lost
Lost in the deep moonlight ocean
That I found in his eyes
When we first met, I was lost
Lost in the pale pink rose
That I found resting upon his cheek
When we first met, I was lost
Lost in the light brown bark of a tree
That I found on his skin
When we first met, I was lost
Lost in the pearls
That I found just underneath those perfect lips
When he left, I was lost
Lost in a whole new way
No more deep blue eyes
No more pink roses
No more perfect pearls
And when he left, I was lost
Lost in the sorrow
That I found in my heart
poem by Chidiebere Franklin
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Committing yourself is a way of finding out who you are. A man finds his identity by identifying. A man's identity is not best thought of as the way in which he is separated from his fellows but the way in which he is united with them.
quote by Robert Terwilliger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Collide
I felt my heart collapse
On the day that I met him
I felt my heart collapse
It filled up to the rim
I felt my heart collapse
When my eyes traveled 'round
I felt my heart collapse
The one I had found
I felt my heart collapse
When he first touched my skin
I felt my heart collapse
Oh it seemed a lovely sin
I felt my heart collapse
It fell without a sound
I felt my heart collapse
Oh I knew I had found
I felt my heart collapse
When we shared that first kiss
I felt my heart collapse
I thought that I would almost miss
I felt my heart collapse
I was lost in his embrace
I felt my heart collapse
I kept staring at his face
Oh my heart collapsed on that day
Ever since it's been that same way
My love for you has not faded
Ever since the day it escaped
poem by Courtney Beaudry
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Pink
Feather light wings that float softly through the air tickled by specks of dust.
Bright white light inflamed with pink and laced with gold.
Raising flowers, changing seasons,
singing in high pitched voices that only children can hear.
Little tiny people in little tiny clothes.
Pink, White and Baby Blue,
Only innocent eyes can see.
Pink nail varnish, Pink lipstick, Pink eye shadow, Pink blusher, Pink clothes that reveal too much Pink skin.
Standing on street corners innocent eyes forgotten.
Long ago were the days when fairies were believed in.
Lost memories and lost dreams,
innocence killed, for a life of nightmares and love ripped at the seams.
poem by Laura Cummings
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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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Nalan 2.10 The Hardship of Separation
Struck on different feeling
With a view to attack,
Raghu, the celestial snake
Surrounded the reddish sun,
That became dark soon.
Like this, Kali planted
In the innocent Nalan’s mind
A different idea, wicked
And the one most crooked.
Thought to cut
Her deplorable condition
Was unbearable to Nalan,
And decided to leave her
In that very dark hour.
But how to cut the sari
Was then his worry.
It was binding them
As one at that time.
Came as sword
Kali knew his thought
And came to the spot
In the shape of a sword
Just to fulfil his need.
Cut! Shocked!
With the sword,
What he found,
He cut her sari
Into two easily.
In that poor condition,
He saw her position,
And thought of her
Dark helpless future.
Mind was churning
Gopis churned the curd
With their two hands,
Which went forward
And backward.
His restless mind
Like this wavered
On the thought,
To leave or not.
Heart pained
Once the Sage Narada
Turned the River Ganga
Into a cold ice block
That stood like a rock.
Like this, Kali hardened,
This time, his soft mind.
Nalan took the decision
To leave her then.
Oh Gods!
He made a request,
“Oh Gods of this forest
I’m leaving her
Under your care.”
“In this dark hour
I’m leaving her here
Like a strange man,
Having no concern.”
He walked out
In that dark night,
He walked out,
Left and right,
Hurting his feet.
poem by Rajaram Ramachandran
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A man with a pink umbrella
Pink day
Pink hedge
Pink porch
Pink balcony
Pink woman
Pink ghost on a pink road!
Pink door
Pink hello
Pink dream
Pink sparrow
Pink night
poem by Framarz Bagheri
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My Pink Man
Pink is my colour,
wat wld i do without it, i wonder.
Pink is my mans colour,
which he aint shy to wear.
If u saw hm in hs pink shirt,
u wld definately kam to a halt, He is a total hunk.
I write lv letters to him in pink ink,
n watch his eyes blink
wen readin th letter in pink.
I love wearin pink blush,
coz wen he touches me my cheeks flush n i blush.
He gave me a pink rose
wen i wore my pink gloss
n kissd hs sweet lips
makin them turn as pink as my lip gloss.
Pink is th colour of hs door,
we'll slp on hs pink carpet on th floor
cz i wanna feel hs soft skin presd against mine 4 sure.
He is the one i live for,
he is th one to die for.
My pink man,
he's th reason y am nt a nun.
poem by Julie Njoki
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Pink Coat
The pink coat
She put on when it was cold
The pink coat
That was hung up when she was home
The pink coat
That kept her warm
The pink coat
That witnessed her first cut
The pink coat
She wore when she was crying
The pink coat
That knew her plans
The pink coat
That saw what happened
The pink coat
She had on when she walked in front of that truck
The pink coat
That witnessed it all
The pink coat
Had no one to keep warm, now
The pink coat
That wanted to tell everyone the truth about her
Just;
The pink coat
poem by Alyssa Ray
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Separated Out
Can you feel my skin
Can you feel my bones
Can you put my spine in plaster and take me home
So unpleasant inside and out
So unpleasant inside and out
If you like Ill tell you about it
You wouldnt want to know
My heads full of water
Tears I never cried
Could you hold me under the shower
In the cold outside
So unsteady inside and out
So unsteady inside and out
If you like Ill tell you about it
You wouldnt want to be
Separated out
Separated out
Separated out
I need medical attention
Wheres my memory gone
Everything I told you - including this,
I already forgot
Separated out
From the living stream
The thing that couldnt lie straight
Straight in the machine
So unstable inside and out
Dont know how much longer Ill take it
If you like Ill sell you a ticket
Or you can get in for free
Am I enough of a freak
To be worth paying to see
Am I enough of a freak
To be worth paying to see
Can you feel my skin
Can you feel my bones
Can you put my spine in plaster and take me home
Can you kiss my face
Let me know its there
Can you give it shape
Can you kinda care
Am I enough of a freak
To be worth paying to see
Enough of a freak
To be worth paying to see
Enough
Enough
Theyre pointing and laughing
Theyre pointing and laughing at me
song performed by by Marillion
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
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