Best Carbon Copy Poems
Admiration For the Person You’ve Become
Don’t ever forget you will always be my little boy
Reflecting in the year’s past of your favorite toy
Was also your security blanket that you always kept near
A mere little stuff rabbit you loved so much dear
If it disappeared, it would always reappeared
From the washing to the drier because it had been so soiled
As you grew older the little artist and Shakespeare you became
Pictures, flowers, poems I would find I’d date and write your name
There were times fear overtook your little mind sweetheart
You would walk in your sleep until the pain would go away from your heart
You'd whisper in my ear to tell me you loved me
You always wanted to be like your daddy, inventive
You've become a man, “Mama I love you” you still tell me
You've become the carbon copy of your dad and passive
We are so proud you took the road of responsibility
Your dad and I agree
You are still my little artist and Shakespeare full of joy
Don’t ever forget you will always be my little boy
Admiration For the Person You’ve Become
2/27/2016
My Lovely Children
A Gift You Are
Who would have thought I would be blind
To eternal sunshine that’s mind
The day you were born was the beginning
My heart's petals bloomed most compelling
Tears of joy I shed while I saw you smile
In my arms I knew the pain was worthwhile
Lullabies sung and hummed to bring comfort sleep
As you lay in your crib without a peep
Challenges as you grew with bumps and bruises with footfalls
Sticky fingers, scattered toys, fancy artwork on the walls
Meaningful memories as I look into your eyes
Of the mischief you use to get into, but I was wise
I'll always be here whenever you need me
Stand by you, whoever you decide to be
Eternal sunshine that was mind is still my total joy
Don’t ever forget you will always be my little boy
2/9/2016
This is dedicated to my three wonderful sons that I cradled in my arms and wish I still was
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/a_gift_you_are_-_my_lovely_children_755125
Never shed your skin
like snakes often do. You lose
your core sense of self;
large chunks of it
wearing an ersatz skin.
Being precisely yourself
is being blissfully free.
Are you free? At peace?
Does your soul dance
with unalloyed contentment?
If false, why not be
the same face staring back at you
in the mirror? Why not be
the same beautifully
imperfect you in solitude?
Be content wearing only
your own mask. So what
if its cracked? Your skin
is the only one you need.
Stay as you are; not less,
or greater than, or a carbon copy.
Lest you become a stranger
in your own life; a prisoner
in your own skin.
Submitted for...
Strand Select M,Any Form ,Any Theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Date: 02/12/2020
Date written: 08/27/2019
He lived in room 757
just like a haiku
thats what he said to me
just like a haiku
eesh
There’s a reason I avoid this part of town
if not for the psuedo intellectualism that spreads
faster than herpes at a swingers party
then for the cheap drinks for too much money
the door guy that thinks he deserves a tip
keeping out the ‘riffraff’ as they used to say
The Polo shirt with the Raybans over in the corner
makes eyes at the one girl his buddies brought to the bar
if he plays his cards right
he might just have a chance
and why not?
Did I walk into a bar
or some sort of reality show
where are the cameras and who’s
ing with me?
The carbon copy cut outs of people all staged around the place
talking about haikus
and their twitter account
and their many followers
not my scene as I head to the door
As a pick up from my coat from the check
the girl tells me to have a good night
I doubt it
no one writes Haiku’s anymore
Why look at me with disgust,
Come closer it's a must.
What do you see?
Open your eyes and really see.
Do you see a carbon copy of you?
We are connected but you have no clue.
Take the blinders off and look,
Do you see now? Just look.
We all apart of the human race,
There's no reason to look with disgrace.
We are connected you and me
Hate is toxic don't you agree?
Alexis Y.
11-3-18
Am I the one you dream of,
Am I the one you prayed silently for with closed eyes at your bed side,
Am I the one you magnificently created of her figment,
Deeply rooted and knotted in that dark part of your past.
Do you think you can create, recreate those vivid but vague images of her carbon
copy through me?
Am I the one you want to smile like her,
Caress, embrace and erase your deviant discrepancy.
Have you visualized the slaving, the hard work she put in?
It seems I am the one you want to prolong the epidemic of your rage
Am I the one you really care for
Or am I just a coaster to absorb that water from your glass
Am I the one you pictured walking towards you on that cool Sunday evening
In that small chapel on the side of that Hill.
Am I the one you will share and tell stories about,
The one who will inspire you to become greater than you.
Will I be the one you run to when all hell breaks lose?
Am I the one you place above all other.
Will I be the one to conceive and bear seed just to please you?
Seeds that resemblances you and in essences are you
Will I ever be that one?
The one you have morphed within the cavity of your brain.
She is a clear carbon copy
of the
Creator,
an immortal image made
by the
Indellible Ink,
she shares the shield that
can
never shrink,
she is a mild mother, a
model and
a mentor.
Her radiance reminds me
of the
Rainbow,
cloaked with cool, calm and
creative colours,
from her heart hails
hospitality and
honour,
she hides in the most
High's holy...
hollow.
Red: she is so righteous
and
refreshing.
Orange: she is ordained,
orderly
and original,
Yellow, she is youthful and
yielding... so optimal.
Green, she is graceful,
godly and
still growing.
Blue: she is a blessing and
a beauty
to behold.
Indigo: industrous,
intelligent and
infinite;
Violet, she is vibrant,
visionary and
virtuous,
/She/ is more that what a
millom
word can mould.
Dedicated to my Mom and
all mothers IN THE
WORLD...
Copyright. 2012
Adeleke Adeite.
Shadow-Cat = Cat Afraid oF the Dark needs Teddy-Bear-Cat
Polecat = a pole dancer Cat-House
Copycat = looks like you do Carbon Copy House-Cat
Bobcat = Bob - Tailed - Cat
Wildcat = Wild.,.Child.,.Spirit.,.Cat
Allie-cat = Loose Trampy Cat Did ( I ) Loose
my Train oF Thought it came with a Caboose
and who Goose the Moose
By Antlers in the Tree Tops Chocolate-Moose
Tomcat = sometimes a Big Cat Thumpper other Times a Tom Thumb Cat
and a Cat in the Hat = a BATTY Cat Flying Rat Fat-Cat That's That.,.
P.S. EYE AM DYSLEXIC so I use CAP.s for Punctuation Style called SHOUTING
John Lenin used it when he wrote music now days young Rapper use it when they write music the Newest Form oF Poetry making my poetry unique a NEW ART FORM or a New Form oF ART Poetry
A carbon copy
The master imitation
Ungenuine friends
June conspires
Sun and rain and wind;
Equatorial somnolence
Ways and means
Cluster of conflicts;
Confront life's business
Down winding roads
Cityscapes retreat;
Highrise dwellings clutter
Bus ride to nowhere
New estates emerge;
Road map carbon copy
News flash and highlights
Routine monotony presides;
Celebrate gratitude then
Order in sure fashion
Odd ball roller coaster;
Jolly simplicity
Next year's birthday thoughts:
Celebrate 50 years --
City-state nation
Forged from uncertainty
Precarious transit pains;
Here we are now
Ageing population
New age crisis;
Opportune reminders
The years have been kind
To one and all here;
Confront crises head-on
No need for complaints
There is only one way;
Move forward always
Attitude counts
Work on your gripes;
Excellence takes effort
All in due time
Evidence speaks sharp;
Discern lessons well
Talk feels empty
Do it with aplomb;
Results surmount obstacles
We start, we end --
Let gratitude mindset
Frame sure attitude
Despite constraints
We get along;
Common courtesy works
There is no other place
Beyond our fringes;
Here ample lots farm
A cityscape where
We co-mingle, interact;
Live a common agenda
Home is where
Heart lives sure spark;
Touch weaves new songs
Leon Enriquez
04 June 2014
Singapore
This is the story of who I am
I give all I can and then some.
I, a bee, will sting if you wrong
If nice, an help mate I will be.
Many are the roads to one’s heart
The main road, truthfulness, is a very good start."
You will get caught if you fool around
You are unfaithful you're out the door.
They say Tom's drunk but Tom’s no fool
I don’t drink no more so I am super wise
I, the carpenter’s tool you use
despise liars, and heart users I hate.
I am me…super special me
A carbon copy I am not
So here I am, a pure clean heart,
True love to give, only to him that’s worthy.
Written on Sept. 8 2012
For Catie's Contest: Metaphorically Speaking
The last page in the final book of a series
is said to be a cliffhanger
the best part of an exciting adventure...
I feel I may be finished
I feel this may be the final pages
or just another sick twisted joke I've decided to conduct on myself
for I am awaiting a fool
to prove to me there's still sunsets in silhouette dreams
Mayday Parade
I have spoken their name in endless sequences
like they were imaginary sand castles just being swept away in high tide
or maybe I just picture that being me
My days have grown dull and bleak
my nights in return, long and headache prone
Somehow the carbon copy has been me
and the seed of originality has been thrown into a lava pit I can't see
Flames of Panic, Flames of Embrace
just an array of flames with a solid label
I crave a time machine to go back five years...
five years before I was caught off guard...
I crave a time machine to go back five years...
five years to when I was last happy
...13, unlucky 13
I've hardly been lucky...
Twist, scream, contort
all actions committed under a comforting cover
to combat the frightful images playing in the subconscious
but I'm barely conscious
The sun is my movie screen
and I have fallen asleep by act two
Asleep and running away from the people who would possibly persuade to constantly lie to me
chase me into oblivion
Scarlett Jade, my mermonic butterfly
Scarlett Jade, my Flames of Embrace
why must you try so hard to get rid of me...
Why must you build me up like a tower
to a bulldozer tear me down...
Why...
Why...
All these irrelevant things walk hand in hand
holding hands with relevant dreams
while building sand castles at the beach
and I, the lonely fisherman
sit here anxiously, harmonizing with an imaginary friend
to ask the ocean air the question
'Is everyone here make believe? '
Oh, his eyes- as blue as oceans;
Like icy skies, vast and frozen
With just a gaze, my Heart fell molten-
His skin was pale, though mostly golden
His body was bawdy, and perfect oddly
Like the Statue of David- a carbon copy!
His arms were charmed, to me belonged-
A desired physique, firm yet rocky
Were his abs, strong and rippled,
My love for him more than tripled!
As a specimen- a God among men-
Lo! His embrace, leaves me crippled...
I fully remember my earlier life completely as a man
People of my village used to call me Phony
Who was killed with a shot gun fired at close range.
The reason was I made a pretty girl pregnant.
There’s a party with masks and horrid dresses
A girl extended her hand, took a walk on a lake
Saw an old house not lived in for many years.
We had it all the house, nothing could stop us.
After a few months, whispers went around about
An unmarried girl with round tummy gifted with a child
But I could detect her because of a mole on her upper lip.
Before I could see her, some people shot me dead.
I still bear array of birthmarks tallying a gunshot blasts.
I often visit the village in this life and often see the woman
With the mole and her son exactly a carbon copy of Phony.
+++++++
June 26, 2014
Form : Free Verse
Dr. Ram Mehta
Fourth Place Win
Contest: Past lives by Carolyn Devonshire
Fear not for i hold you in my heart
I was not bought but was made
In the perfection of the image of the maker
My heart smiles to you all for your good wishes
You sang melodiously to me in tribulation
To calm my dying soul which seek help.
I won't forget your kindness in the dark
But your warmth enduring smiles will last
Forever in my smiling heart of hope.
Tell Ugonma, i am doing good now
She is not a deceiver all i know
To Ugochinyere, for holding my pen
THose times i dosed off on the table in the night
Tell Nnamdi, i forget not his tales and poems
My ears are dying to listen again without pain
Mother was there when the dreams were slippery
Away but she made my heart smiled again
Thanks to the great beholders of pen
They inspired me dawn and dusk in their books
Acknowledgement so long i wrote in absence of gut
Inspire my orders in the dawn not revised motion
Skeletal wishes from the immovable heart of a queen
To Ranyinudo, for guiding my thoughts to book
I won't forget the whispering of that lonely queen
She sang to me and showed me what love means to her
To the people of Exra-ordinary- talents(POET) warm wishes
Embraces to Mccoy, who slept every day with the manuscript
Kisses have i sent to father for his moral support
My sister showed me what womanhood stood for, grace to her
My brother danced day and night to see me through
My heart smiles to you all for your kind gesture
Register your good deeds in your heart
some are registered in my palms for rewards
I wished for my wish to become a wish come true
So to increase your worth and value
Say me well to Nwayibe, i hold her
Tight in my heart but my erudite pen will fail me in honouring you here.
TO Ifeanyi, i love your courage
TO Mbanefu, i promise never disappointing
Disgrace not fear but handle him with care.
To chimaobim, I am becoming a great writer.
To Ifesinachi, thanks for teaching me how to hold pen
John chizoba vincent cares, i cares for you all
To ifedayo, i promise to beat the drum louder.
To my ancestral home, i will write about
You when the world recognizes my voice
To my humble friend, the pen, i hold you high above all
My image maker, God, i love you above all
My photocopy, mother, i missed your love
To my carbon copy, father i am doing just fine.
My humble heart smiles to you all.
©John chizoba Vincent
The clichéd cavalier
clings to his
carbon copy life with
constrained complexity
and settles
for conventionality.
Miss originality
and Master clarity
dismantle, reconstruct
withered concepts
within a cul-de-sac
of ubiquitous creativity
by alienating themselves
from main-stream
cultural orthodoxies.
Our imagination:
a perverse configuration
of disparate thoughts
that congeal into
an incomprehensible concoction
of cerebral combinations
which reconfigure,
inexplicable,
to creatively convey some
innovative originality
and clarity
into a world
which continues
to advocate constrained
and conformist ideologies.