No Commitment
No commitment
Just purpose.
No faith
Just weak trust.
The life?
Just one more desire.
The love?
Just strange liar.
No surrender
Just false ego.
No care
Just mercy flow.
The respect?
Just identity suspect.
The service?
Just selfishly publish.
No identity
Just unknown entity.
No dependence
Just lonely existence.
The fear
Just inside prayer.
The God?
Just I myself.
Copyright © Shiv Abhishek Pande
poem by Shiv Abhishek Pande
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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
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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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What 'Fit' Would I Want
Identity?
I've had one for so long.
All my life,
I have lived to perfect it.
I don't get upset with those with none.
Those who prefer to turn away and run...
If confronted!
Identity?
I know who I am without question.
Acceptance I don't seek.
Not from those
Who believe my identity
Might leave others afraid to speak.
Those familiar with others,
Who shuffle along with stances weak.
I have no problem,
Being me and that might offend.
'Too bad! '
'Get over it! '
Nothing else or more is there...
I care to share with them!
What 'fit' would I want,
If that which I enjoy...
Provides me comfort?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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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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Egg to Hen Poem
At first hard cover
Inside a
fluidity of identity
atomic alchemy
Boxing ring can be the hard holder of disciplinary existence
Break free, whether it is true or false to touch the sky of the true base of humanity no humiliated conceptualization process but the birth if the eye is the eye
if not blindness of life can happen it is an adventure of life, go for it
Shaping form and colours first, then conditioned concepts and innate concepts encounter life
sound and voice, the smallest units of human language
the hard holder asks the fluidity of the existing identity
what is the purpose of your life?
how would you end your life?
Form is now clear and idea is evolving out of complexity
Like a poem with possessing vehicle of predetermined destiny
Official Existence
'Join each other and group yourselves,
But for Heaven's sake do not name yourselves;
Do anything and everything: cultural political and social,
But be sure to remain strictly unofficial'.
How can one be without a name or identity?
Can he unofficially exist in a well-known city?
Identity denied, existence denied;
Leaders can no longer upon be relied.
So let us join together and defend our identity,
Because our very existence depends on it.
poem by Shushan Artinian
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The Lost Child
can’t you see me? I am
can’t you hear me? I am
what am I?
illicit creation
a mistake? an existence?
why am I?
my pack is family
you see us on the street
you avoid us
identity respect
I find no acceptance
I don’t fit
so you give up on me
and I give up on you
turn away
you try to wipe me out
I wipe you out with drugs
smoke and drink
you disappear I don’t
unremoveable stain
I exist
despise me move me on
imprison me hate me
I still breathe
respect you? respect me?
listen to me hear my scream
show me love
what you do for the least
you do for me He said
hear His child
don’t judge don’t fear just love
see Him in me and care
as He cares
poem by Diana Thomas
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When and Where Did They Leave Behind Their Minds
I have been blessed to be in the presence...
Of those obsessed with the purchasing of things.
Themselves and what they possess.
And have them profess to me,
What 'I' could be and 'things' I could have...
IF I just put my mind to it!
So glad I endured such ignorance.
Little did they know,
I thought people like that were ridiculous.
And in time they would come to think of themselves,
That very same way.
It happens.
It pays to be observant.
What I have today and have had most of my life,
Is a sense of my own self worth.
What I have today and have had most of my life,
Is identity and self respect.
What I have today and have had most of my life,
Is my faith and gratefulness...
To know from where my blessings flow!
And the source of my insight.
And those folks...
Wouldn't leave from their doorsteps,
Without making sure their pretensions were intact.
But then again...
Times have changed!
And maybe some of them are scurrying around,
Trying to discover...
When and where did they leave behind their minds.
And what had been their purpose?
What purpose do they serve?
And how is that purpose felt?
Where is that purpose at?
Especially those clinging onto materialistic notions!
Believing themselves to be...
'Blessed and highly favored',
To have acquired positions of status.
With bling and other things to flaunt,
An eroding way of life that has them entrapped.
And I wonder...
Is 'this' a purpose?
Or is this,
A sad act!
God...
I thank You,
For showing me how to lead.
And not follow.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Seascape Dream
It is not the moon I know;
So it is a false lunar bridge
Above my nose;
Dreams are the sad loafings of time
And entity, identity.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Purposeful Surrender
As you empty self for the Lord, blessing by Him will be poured,
Upon the others in your life, as you faithfully serve Jesus Christ,
As you empty your fleshly will, the void, The Holy Spirit shall fill,
With the things God will need, with surrender to The Spirit’s lead.
In the light of what John had said, regarding Christ, in His stead,
When Believers do become less, The Lord God begins to bless,
As Christ then becomes more, blessings around us He will pour,
When we move aside for Christ, to be God’s vessels, in this life.
So we must purpose in our heart, to God’s surrender at the start,
To become God’s vessel for, Jesus Christ, Who becomes more,
While we remain just who we are, as we serve God, near and far,
Making our purpose and intent, pleasing to God, as we are sent.
When we empty our self, for Him, of all our ways, tainted by sin,
God then fills us with new desire, with a new vision that is higher,
When in Christ, we become less, He gives to us eternal purpose,
As we submit to Christ our Lord, service for us God shall afford.
With Christ, less becomes more, as God shall open a new door,
A new door of service in His way, as Christ leads us day to day,
For service to God is not about us, but our Savior, Christ Jesus,
Who fills us with His Holy Word, to be poured till all have heard.
(Copyright ©12/2009)
For Thy Belief
FOR THY BELIEF
f
For thy belief
I can make any sacrifice
Of body or mind
Since I have no body or mind
For all is lost into you
My being is not a medium for yours
But the two at vain march to realms
Unknown
Except those who know
That their identity is no identity
Except the identity of their better self
The other
Yea frankly thyself
(karnailsingh Heranwale)
poem by Karnail Singh Heirwale
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The Identity's Role
Identity urges you to toil,
Makes you sacrifice, leaves you secure
And imbues interest and purpose.
The society provides identity.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Respect, Respect me
Respect, respect me, I say
In every single way
Respect me day by day
Don’t put me down
When we are out and about with people around
Playing me like a fool
Portraying me as one who never went to school
Respect me sweet heart
Till life sets us apart
Respect my needs
Listen and take heed
Respect to me is what means love
And not those commonly spoken words,
‘I love you’
To respect me is to publicly and privately honour me
To respect me is to listen attentively while I speak
To respect me is to bread and butter my desire to be free
To respect me is to stand by me when I am weak
Look up! Look up to me!
I may not be perfect
Nor a genius of an intellect
Respect, respect me & our love will stand erect!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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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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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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Identity
Identity, fragile image of broken mirrors
The start of hope and banished fears
Razor time cuts into the innocence
Fallen gardens of an empires deluge
Travel the stars in moonlit sin
Identity is a strange foreign land
Reflections of solitude beneath the mask
Rainy night pounds with thunder
Identity is an endless hunger
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Bottom Line
I am 'Me',
Because I am 'Myself',
Never hit left!
Never hit right!
What I am,
Is who I am,
I rerseve my own philosophical identity,
I resile my own interdependant indemnity,
I Am what I am,
I trade nothing of it,
I hide nothing oft,
As I fake none of it,
What I am,
Belongs to me,
If what I am is being pity,
then you pity nothing of it,
Who I am!
Is what I am!
Who are you to judge?
Who are you to oppose?
Who are you to isolate?
Who are you to impersonate?
Who I am,
Is what I am,
Because I enjoy the proudly culture,
As ofcause the good smell of my traditional honey,
Identity! Identity!
Because what I am,
Is who I am,
The veins, I belong!
The heart, I belong!
The soul, I belong,
The mind, I belong,
The Body is nothing at all,
But I belong!
You do not have to respect me,
But neither me is to disrespect,
I do not build from expectations,
I grant my life a vest of decent revelations,
You do not have to love me,
But neither me is to hate agains you,
What you see,
Is what you see,
But what you get
You Never had
poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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Revelation
Still, as of old, in Beavor's Vale,
O man of God! our hope and faith
The Elements and Stars assail,
And the awed spirit holds its breath,
Blown over by a wind of death.
Takes Nature thought for such as we,
What place her human atom fills,
The weed-drift of her careless sea,
The mist on her unheeding hills?
What reeks she of our helpless wills?
Strange god of Force, with fear, not love,
Its trembling worshipper! Can prayer
Reach the shut ear of Fate, or move
Unpitying Energy to spare?
What doth the cosmic Vastness care?
In vain to this dread Unconcern
For the All-Father's love we look;
In vain, in quest of it, we turn
The storied leaves of Nature's book,
The prints her rocky tablets took.
I pray for faith, I long to trust;
I listen with my heart, and hear
A Voice without a sound: 'Be just,
Be true, be merciful, revere
The Word within thee: God is near!
'A light to sky and earth unknown
Pales all their lights: a mightier force
Than theirs the powers of Nature own,
And, to its goal as at its source,
His Spirit moves the Universe.
'Believe and trust. Through stars and suns,
Through life and death, through soul and sense,
His wise, paternal purpose runs;
The darkness of His providence
Is star-lit with benign intents.'
O joy supreme! I know the Voice,
Like none beside on earth or sea;
Yea, more, O soul of mine, rejoice,
By all that He requires of me,
I know what God himself must be.
No picture to my aid I call,
I shape no image in my prayer;
I only know in Him is all
Of life, light, beauty, everywhere,
Eternal Goodness here and there!
I know He is, and what He is,
Whose one great purpose is the good
Of all. I rest my soul on His
Immortal Love and Fatherhood;
And trust Him, as His children should.
I fear no more. The clouded face
Of Nature smiles; through all her things
Of time and space and sense I trace
The moving of the Spirit's wings,
And hear the song of hope she sings.
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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