Love For Language
Sound denotes the tune
Tune shapes the word
Words sprout of strong feelings
Feelings have no limit, no boundary
But it is clothed by the language
Language endows with the identity
Identity confers recognition
Recognition offers self esteem
To the human beings in the society
Thus everyone has to devote time
and give all out efforts for protection
restoration and growth of one's own language.
poem by Ratnakar Rout
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Language lost
My language lost
My identity lost.
Excuse me
I could not save my language.
I am forced to use foreign tongue
I am forced to shun all that are mine.
Excuse me
I could not save my language
I could not save my life
And I am not fine.
I want to talk in my mother tongue
I want to live in my home
I want to tell my Father to come and rescue.
My language lost
My identity lost.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
THEY ARE POETS TOO, You are a poet!
THEY ARE POETS TOO, You are a poet!
THOSE who misspell
And those who are still coping up
With their metaphors
The techniques
Of rhyme & beat
Those who think
They do not
Know how to
Write poetry
And those
Who fear
What to say
What to write
What the others say
About their poetry
And those that doubt
Their writing
Abilities
Their thoughts
Their feelings
Their feelings
Their feelings
Yes
Yes
Their feelings
Or those who simply
Fear that they may only
Be displeasing
And disappointing
And those whose
Sense of confidence
About this thing
This poetry
This poem thing
Those that still
Hide what they
Feel to what they
Think
Is prose
Those who think that
Their life
Is not worth
Sharing in the
The beat and
Rhyme of poetry
Behold
The mere thought
About life
About a beating heart
The pulse
The eyes that blink
The fingers fidgety
That type the words
Of feelings
Of feelings
Yes
Yes
About feelings
It is all about feelings
The genuine feelings
Of your life
You type them
Each word
To another word
A chain of words
A long chain of words
Like playing the music
To the piano keys
Like strumming
The strings of a
Flamenco guitar
A certain music
A certain beat
To the sound
Of your computer keys
Hear the beat
And the rhyme
Of your computer keys
Each word
To another word
To a chain of words
To a longer chain of words
You are running a chain of feelings
You are chasing a chain of feelings long chained in your hearts wanting to be free
To be free
To be free
Yes
Yes
You, feeling to be free to run free to be all free
Like you were scattering red rose petals to this pedestal
Like you were sprinkling waters to this garden
Like you were splashing waters in the sea
Like you were bathing playing dancing in the rain
Like you were humming a tune to a trek on a hill
Like you were making love with your beloved the whole night
Behold
A poet in you is born
Behold
You are typing
A poem
You are
Feeling
And you are
By all means
Now a poet
I hereby baptize you
With that name.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Everything that we inherit, the rain, the skies, the speech, and anybody who works in the English language in Ireland knows that there's the dead ghost of Gaelic in the language we use and listen to and that those things will reflect our Irish identity.
quote by John McGahern
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Identity
Wearing the wonderful outfit
Speaking one language
Eating habits according to where you belong
Does the culture create a self identity
Kneeling down
Believing in transferred heritage
Accepting the facts and teachings
Is religion that what creates the inner identity
Adapting the different culture and its habits
Seeking for stability and security
Being like a roman in Rome
Flexibility and transformation does it really creates one's self identity
Knowing oneself
Seeing things independently
Accepting ones individualism
Identifying the self - does it makes more sense
Being Kind and compassion
Acceptance of every individual and free thought
Identifying oneself creates the word
Overall being human makes it complete self
poem by Tenzin Whitetara
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For Shrill The Piper Plays His Tune
When thoughts are idle wanderings
Words tumbled round and round
When feelings they turn inwardly
Still I hear the piper's sound.
When happiness is broken
And the Kings and Queens are gone
The piper's tune keeps playing
And I hear his victory song.
For even when awoken
From the sleepiness of time
There's a distant music playing
Heard clear within my mind
For shrill the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tune is full played out
He carries us away.
No-one has seen this piper man
And no-one has seen him play
But we all can hear his mournfulness
And fear for what he'll say
No folds of fathered cornfields
And no breaking of the bread
The piper's tune keeps playing
With his words as yet unsaid.
For shrill the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tune is full played out
He carries us away.
We can all hear if we but try
The piper's song so sweet
The musings and meanderings
Of souls lost whole complete
No piper plays before we're born
Before we touch the earth
The piper's tunes they all begin
From the moment of our birth.
For shrill the piper plays his tune
Like happiness disease'd
And all the notes that he plays out
Are our moments ill at ease.
Not one of us pays him to play
Nor gives him any score
For every note that he blows out
Is fully paid before
We entertain our wanderings
And confusion in the mind
For the piper's very soul turns out
To be both yours and mine.
For shrill the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tune is full played out
He carries us away.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If a group of people feels that it has been humiliated and that its honour has been trampled underfoot, it will want to express its identity and this expression of an identity will take different shapes and forms.
quote by Abdolkarim Soroush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Who's To Blame
Oh Mother Ghana; Mother Ghana
What has happened to you?
What has happened to your culture?
They say we've fold arms against 'Vernacular' language
Instead opened arms wide to 'English' language
Oh Mother Ghana Mother Ghana
Why?
At school, we are taught the things we do not know
By the 'English' language
Why not 'Vernacular' language?
Oh Mother Ghana, Oh Mother Ghana
Where is your true identity as pure African?
Where is your pride as true Ghanaian?
Oh Mother Ghana, Oh Mother Ghana,
Day after day
When we put on the uniform as students
We are forbidden to speak 'Vernacular' language
Instead the 'English' language
Why Mother Ghana, why Mother Ghana?
When we speak 'Vernacular' language; your culture,
They say: 'Speak English' someone's culture!
When we speak 'English' that someone's culture
They say: 'Abrofosem; speak vernacular language' your culture!
Oh Mother Ghana, Oh Mother Ghana
Who's to blame?
'English or Vernacular language'
Oh Mother Ghana; Oh Mother Ghana.
poem by Francis Julian Zewu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poets deal in writing about feelings and trying to find the language and images for intense feelings.
quote by Carol Ann Duffy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Do Not Be Ashamed Of The Language Of The Heart
do not hesitate to write
down the letters and words
your feelings your hurts
and disappointments
do not mind what your
friends say about why
you are such a sad
creature looking for
a nice garden to stay
for a little while
and sigh and breathe
this is your language now
the language of the little child
who laughs because that
arrogant and gullible emperor
has no clothes at all
and his thing dangled along
the paths of embarassment
have you really understood
the language of the heart?
the one that is not ashamed
of vulnerability? the one that
finds strength in weakness?
the one that speaks
about the power of love
amidst the hate and pain?
i have left some seeds and
they are growing and becoming
trees, and now you cannot but
take the fruits and tell me
that they are pulpy and sweet.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mistakened
Those putting a foot forward,
To breakaway from portrayals...
Others may lay to say some betray.
May just not be attempts to impress.
Perhaps an identity one feels,
Is finally being addressed.
And mistakened are the ones,
Who believe an acceptance sought from them...
Is what someone who has discovered themselves,
Seeks!
And feelings explored may hurt,
When 'feelings' ignored go unnoticed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Other
I do not have to be mad
For the anger to build up within me
I am a human being
Money and fame come and go
But we long for few things
I being a father of children
Become a child
I have a mother
But find a mother in other
When other does bother
I am the happiest
But when the other ignores
I go wild
Use words
Which are called obscene
Where's obscenity when
Everything is open
Give me a better word angel
I will change my language
Anger builds up from within
I am called mad
But a mad person rushes
For anything and everything
Sane seldom care
May be mad are better
In understanding the needs
Anger builds up from within
But anger is not anger
We are lost as ever for words
Give me a better word angel
I will change my language
Anger here is a hunger
I remain hungry for words
And for affection
Which I shower on the other all the time
Words never come
I see the tears
I cannot wipe
Who am I?
I can only cry
Anger will remain
I express
I am a child
Cannot hide my feelings
Please be my mother
You the other
You are distant
But other part of me
poem by Richie John Pais
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Be Loyal To The Native
Immigrants integrated with the natives,
have lost identity and enmity.
Immigrants segregated from the natives.
have kept identity and enmity.
Tamils not knowing their language in Mauritius
Live in harmony, getting no prejudice.
Tamils with Tamil intact in Sri Lanka
Live in tension with the majority.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
To Music
Music: breathing of statues. Perhaps:
silence of paintings. You language where all language
ends. You time
standing vertically on the motion of mortal hearts.
Feelings for whom? O you the transformation
of feelings into what?--: into audible landscape.
You stranger: music. You heart-space
grown out of us. The deepest space in us,
which, rising above us, forces its way out,--
holy departure:
when the innermost point in us stands
outside, as the most practiced distance, as the other
side of the air:
pure,
boundless,
no longer habitable.
Translated by Stephen Mitchell
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Going Back To Kindergarten
Wittgenstein
went back to kindergarten
trying to figure out
how a language is learned
to know that language is born
not with a word or two
but in a cluster of sentences
like the birth of a baby
that comes not with spare parts
of hands and legs and toes
but as a whole coming out
from the womb and with a
spank from this world
cries to let you know that
it is alive and has already
some feelings and thoughts
of its own. Like us, we learn
the language of love not on
a piecemeal basis, we know
love when we are accepted
as a whole person, not as
bits and pieces and chunks
and cold cuts, but as tomato
sauce garnished with cheese
and mint and rosemary and
meatballs and salt and pepper.
Wittgenstein went back
to kindergarten
not as a kid but as a philosopher.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Whistling Tune
(words & music by edwards - david)
Did you ever notice when the sun goes down
Out of nowhere comes a strange and pretty sound
Its a whistling tune for walking in the night
If you listen you can hear it in the breeze
Specially when the breeze is drifting through the trees
Its a whistling tune for walking in the night
And the murmuring waters sing the song
The echoing mountains hum along
The whispering valleys fill the air
With a whistling tune our hearts can share
Its so wonderful to walk beneath the moon
Listening to old mother natures favorite tune
Its a whistling tune for walking in the night
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!