Best Imitated Poems
The Sun Rises- -The Moon Sets
Think of life, the cycle of
How radiation can support life, enough heat to
Ensure a stable self sustaining system.
Something like our RA, peasants producing
Under this celestial god. He may be dull at times, but
Never far from active.
Rising to all inhabitants.
Imitated by many, but none can capture
Something so surreal. For many hours
Everything thrives into productivity only to
Soon fade.
Telescoping images of you in the night
How warm is your glow soft blue white
Ever circling the world we call home
Master of revolution, elliptical, precise
Omnipresent, effervescence
Orb of the night, silent in flight
Never failing, glowing light
Shimmering beauty, through magnified eye
Emitting a wondrous, magnificent sight
Torched your surface, by meteor showers
Shine again tomorrow, I'm forever yours
This poem is written in the Acrostic style by father and son..
SUN written by son, MOON written by father
2009...........Jared Pickett and Richard Pickett
Categories:
imitated, life, naturemoon,
Form:
Acrostic
I was a red-violet, sunny morning person, usually up at the crack of dawn,
When orange light poured from the east, upon revival, dewy green lawns.
With a cup of aromal coffee, I'd watch yellow sunrise creep in the window,
Enjoying the zestful song of red robin, while night and day were in limbo.
I would take walks at the golden hour, flooded in light, just after a sunrise,
In the serenity of wanton, floral summer, slowly unveiling a destiny prized.
Visits of friends were features of morning, for sunup fondness is infective,
As flowers soak up colors of white sunlight, telling of the new perspective.
Family and I fascinated flaming sunsets, fancy dancing like we had forever,
At evening fetes, long fated; like feathery, dark green ferns-wind treasure.
I lived in the house of taupe sunrise, always trending towards golden noon,
As fitful stars, flickering like fireflies, stay on course, in presence of moon.
Sunhats, sandals and pretty sunflowers, were summer sights on my street,
In tranquil days of wild seas, giving the selfsame roar, as it cooled hot feet.
Nearby stars gleamed like natural pearls, on nebulous nights of neighbors;
And the natural conversation flowed nonstop, like the whistling wind labors.
Bat orchids awaited watchful moon, yearning for caves among field flowers;
When ballerina orchids danced, entranced, by plum shadows' magic powers!
Crimson corpse flower was blooming, in a torrid wake, held in lazy summer,
And snapdragon seed pods imitated skulls, where future flowers slumbered.
One day dawned exceptionally beautiful, a sight bringing rapture to my eyes;
As plum and orange, merged with pink, gold and red-fleeing night disguised!
I went about my productive work, but I noticed the day did not seem to age,
Like a glorious history book caught open, when distraction didn't turn a page.
Although I was very puzzled, I relished a pause for precious, pretty mystery;
Like the lovely, floral pause of gemmed hummingbirds, in times of blissfully.
After several long and rapturous hours, testy time gradually began to move,
For a beginning ever looks towards the end, as if it had everything to prove!
Categories:
imitated, beauty, color, fantasy, morning,
Form:
Couplet
The Last Hug
The day you left, my soul took your side,
My heart felt a real ache, and cried a flood,
All I wanted and wished to grasp was you,
As you moved forward, I felt blind,
And lost you in the mist of crowd.
There were people to support me,
But all felt hollow,
There were thought around me,
But all seemed narrowed,
There were lips around me curved up ,
But all felt curved down.
I still have it painted in my head when I last saw you,
Like the monument which stays forever,
That night I was drenched in rain,
Dripping water from head to toe,
My coat felt heavy with the water,
My outer picture had imitated the inner.
I remember the last hug,
How our eyes had the cracks of red ,
like the cracks of a broken mirror,
How your body squeezed hard against mine,
How my hands wrapped around you were indivisible,
How I wanted the time to standstill,
And the few counted breath I took in your arm, before letting you go.
Categories:
imitated, lost, lost love, love,
Form:
Free verse
Exotic
Mysterious in every way
However, you are purely understood to me
Your goddess type figure and your flawless beauty
Brings me to a foreign place
I am moved by everything you are
And that goes far beyond your perfect body and gorgeous face
Strikingly different, is what your appearance screams
You are a diamond in the ruff, but yet a commonality of the perfect one in every man’s dream
Yet every man can’t handle you or accept who you are
To me you are far beyond the norm….yet I don’t find you strange by far
Your eyes take me to a foreign place
So dark, bold, beautiful, and deep
To ignore your beauty would be a disgrace
For how can not one epitomize the empowerment inside and out of a woman so wonderfully unique
Exotic Hair
Exotic Shape
Exotic Posture
Exotic Face
But they fail to realize the pure exotic nature in your heart
That won’t every be replace
Sexy and divine….yes you are
You can pull lust out of a room full of saturated and imitated love
With just one look …you can drag one’s mind so far
But the deepness of honor and respect you deserve, is also honored from something supernatural up above
Now…
She is the most deserving woman
I see our future as I gaze into here yes …
Longing to create a sensual, powerful, and exotic love
One that would kidnap us into a realm of an endless happiness of an everlasting and wonderful goodbye
©Brandon Neal
Categories:
imitated, beauty, cute love, i
Form:
Rhyme
O' cloned creations,
mirroring deceptive diction
scattered in liquified letters,
across android canvases,
here comes the plague of
fabricated foolery,
spiraling in figments of
black and white illusions,
injecting illusive veins
screaming for vanity,
with verses plagiarized
from villainous valleys.
There’s nothing poetic about
the way AI is pickpocketing
rhythmic runes from the
museum of dead poets ~
immortalized on the walls
of glass galleries.
Their sonnets, now imitated,
to adorn artless skies
with stolen synonyms,
weaving soulless symphonies,
to please the apocalyptic algorithm,
unaware of how filtered
procrastinators preying
on pencil-streaked pages
are lonely earthlings starving
for superficial accolades.
I care not for the futuristic
benefits of artificial lies,
yet I see no escape from
these alienated alliterations,
and personified
pathological hypocrisy,
typed behind silver screens,
multiplying metaphors
into robotic ruins,
flowing with
perfectly metered clichés,
coded in complex cadence.
So let me find the inked corpse
of silicon silhouettes,
lost in the labyrinth
of virtual vultures,
flaunting repetitive rhymes
for clueless readers.
Tonight the strawberry moon
frowns at the
neon frequencies
of digitalized fakery,
and my onyx heart aches
for the unknown realms,
where originality floats
as a forgotten fantasy,
fogged behind a fictional facade,
while in silence, stained stars
claim phrases snatched
from the
thesaurus of thieves.
So flee from this venom-less virus,
you and I know better than to
lean on spineless cyborgs,
created mindlessly
from financial felonies.
A poet with a pen that
lacks authentic pigment
is the victimized alter ego of
designed trickeries~
masked as midnight musings.
Categories:
imitated, art,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
A menagerie of mockingbirds are singing a melody,
of imitated tweets and chirps, like ripples of a flute;
And I wander a forest lush green and hushed quiet,
the twilight allows only a pellucid of light to stream in;
and in my dream I am so broken and lost.
A bright vermilion rose entices me to touch it and smell,
the frangipani perfume, so sweet and succulent;
so beautiful and luscious to this lost beauty wandering,
and in my dream I hold it to infuse my broken heart;
then, using my ancestral power- I fade into foliage.
_____________________________
January 7, 2018
Poetry/Verse/I, Fade
Copyright Protected, ID 18-9809-32-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, 10 Words and 10 Lines Challenge
sponsor, Silent One
First Place
Categories:
imitated, dream,
Form:
Verse
Elsie Marley was a playful, middle child, with five sparkling siblings,
Living on emerald, Willow Brook Farm, underneath skies very citron.
Everyone in the family lent a hand, at skillfully managing their farm.
At twelve years old, Elsie joined in, like golden bees, flower charmed.
Every fleeting day was the same as the last, yet magically different;
Like when a rainbow touches jade grass, and blazing sun is imminent.
Fantastic friends made school days fun, in the flitting, youthful hours;
With life as fresh and fabulous as spring, or as rainfall scented flowers.
Farmers sowed in fine, fragrant furrows, when cherry blossoms rained;
And family came calling, in flurries of petals, where red robin reigned.
Elsie lived in the house of doorways, of children going and coming in;
In a tumult of joyous colors; like pink moon nights, of purple martins.
Lyric larks were ever listened to, along jade, foliate, Strawberry Lane;
Located at Willow Brook's lauded south border, like love that remains.
Elsie's favorite neighbors were Naomi and Nadia, very near to her age;
Who playfully imitated being princesses, like red roses at center stage.
Careless bugleweeds were blowing, in deep, violet shades of summer;
When candytuft plants gave sweet thrills, like the flash of blue thunder.
Cupid's dart blooms went right to the heart, to the beat of raven wings;
And dame's rocket launched nighttime scents, to hear nightingale sing.
Elsie grew negligent of her mundane chores, as princesses did not work;
And her dismayed siblings picked up the slack, like dawn's redbird chirp.
But Elsie waked one day, to words that shamed her, spoken by her sister;
Like an onyx shadow, retreating hastily, once mellow sun has kissed her!
Nan told Sue, 'Elsie Marley is grown so fine, She won't get up to feed the swine,
But lies in bed till eight or nine. Lazy Elsie Marley.' Truth can be unkind!
Elsie resumed the role of dutiful sister and daughter, to her family's relief,
Coming to see all girls are princesses, like a vast garden's colorful motif.
Categories:
imitated, beautiful, fantasy, farm, nature,
Form:
Couplet
Colors in the Dark
When I was younger I’d get scared too easily,
my mother was patience pushing back the monsters in the closet with a simple wave of her hand
as i grew my mother didn’t have enough patience to coat my form; her patience and my size were no longer proportionate.
When I hit 5’1 she looked at me eye to eye an unwanted staring contest with the underlying battle of wills
she said find the beauty in the dark
beauty in the dark
beauty in the dark
I didn’t understand what she wanted but the bags under her eyes weighed my chest down
i nodded but i didn't understand, it was a sort of forced nod where my head and brain moved on two separate courses
night//
i laid in bed staring at vague outlines searching for beauty
beauty in the dark
i only found terror in dark corners
hours fall past me like seconds on a clock
the incessant count down to my doom
hours of searching in dark corners
looking for something that wasn’t there,
looking for beauty in the dark
how do I find something
that isn’t there
desperation lead my eyes to the window
wind had cracked open my blinds
she twisted and pulled them as she danced
her cool crisp breeze beckoned me to look up
and there
I found it
the sky is never black
there is always color
tuesday indigo
wednesday hints of pink
thursday violet
colors in the dark
colors in the dark
show tuesday tree’s desperate aching limbs reaching out to join the elusive wind in her dance of flurries
but tree was rooted
stuck
wednesday wind was free
wind was wild
tree imitated
curling her limbs into shapes you had to squint at to find meaning
wind teased twirling through tree’s gnarled branches
thursday clouds cried for tree their tears dropping and drowning earth
“cloud is free” tree screamed “wind is free”
“my roots run deep my branches reach high but I am not free”
I cried for tree
my eyes unintentionally mimicked cloud
drowning myself
Tuesday//
I run outside to hug tree
I break off a branch and take it inside with me
cradling it like a newborn baby
I vowed to gray monday sky I would take it everywhere with me
with me part of tree would be free
night//
there were no screams of tuesday trees nor laughs of wednesday winds
just beauty
and colors in the dark
Categories:
imitated, child, childhood, color, fear,
Form:
Free verse
Waves of nausea crash against my splintering ribcage,
stomach churning, bile burning through esophageal walls.
Choking on paranoia-fueled delirium,
self-inflicted wounds etched upon a fragile psyche,
all while I try to hold on to some semblance of my humanity.
Push and pull, breaking down walls,
then building them back up, reinforced.
Love never came easy in delusion-filled memories,
always hovering at the cusp of fiction,
ready to strike like a coiled python.
Then, like glass, tears would cascade down,
begging for forgiveness.
Paranoia-induced hallucinations gripped my marrow again,
coursing through tainted bloodstreams,
blinding any sense of reason.
So life imitated drug-soaked nightmares
as my security slipped through calloused fingers once more.
While the rain pummels down against abandoned dreams,
I am haunted by you in this empty house.
Nothing but phantoms of the past roam
in the dead of night,
wailing in the deafening silence,
a requiem for my inner demons’ eternal torment.
Categories:
imitated, emotions, heartbreak, imagery, mental
Form:
Free verse
If you are always young and youthful
Are you really being honest and truthful?
Or was the way you wish you had been
Looking so pretty, nice and then.
There must be some kind of a catch
But I was mortified after finding the match
You will never guess who it turned out to be
Someone weird who liked exactly like me.
Would I ever come completely to my senses
And start using the correct verb tenses
Or this you it would probably disturb
When it was very likely to be an adverb.
How ironic it had been when I imitated
Someone in a picture Van Gogh created
And what I learned when I last did look
Is me for Van Gogh I was badly took.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
Categories:
imitated, analogy, encouraging, humorous,
Form:
Concrete
~Aim High~
(Pantoum)
Check the sky aim high and then just fly
There's so much you can do, achieve
Just set mind and focus today don't be shy
God has great plans for all your life, just believe
There's so much you can do, achieve
Don't let bad things get in your way
God has great plans for all your life, just believe
Sky's the limit don't ever quit, to God just pray
Don't let bad things get in your way
Just set mind and focus today don't be shy
Sky's the limit don't ever quit, to God just pray
Check the sky aim high and then just fly!
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2014
May.06.2016
~Author's Notes:
"The Pantoum" is a Malaysian verse form adapted by French poets and very occasionally imitated in English.The pantoum is a poetic form derived from the pantun, a Malay verse form: specifically from the pantun berkait, a series of interwoven quatrains. The pantoum is a form of poetry similar to a villanelle in that there are repeating lines throughout the poem.
Categories:
imitated, faith, hope, inspirational, love,
Form:
Pantoum
I cannot put you into rhyme
You would refuse to go there
Having once said, “If you can describe love . . . . It isn’t”
And you are the same
I cannot dress you in words and do you justice
Adjectives fall upon themselves in the effort
And metaphors mumble in confusion
While searching for comparisons
Because you were the source of it all
All things must be compared to you
And beauty should have bowed when you passed
Your smile was never like the sunrise
Rather, the sunrise imitated your smile
And when I saw stars reflected in your eyes
The stars were made more beautiful
Some men are correct to offer the compliment
“You look beautiful in that dress”
That was inappropriate with you and I would gasp
“That dress looks beautiful on you”
The standard of all things lovely lived in you
And with a glance the sister nymphs danced
And all was well in the kingdom of my soul
And so it is now . . . . now that you are gone
When leaves whisper about the wind
I know they gossip of why I walk alone
Why my arm reaches for the empty space beside me
And crickets spread rumors across the night
Even the streamlet frog grunts his agreement
Because without you all things beautiful
Depend upon each other for definition
And grow lonely in the task
And I am composed of memories, nothing more
Repeating them like butterflies going home
Categories:
imitated, love, beautiful, beautiful, stars,
Form:
Free verse
The words sound so sweet
imitated by parrots
Like baby babbles
Categories:
imitated, nature,
Form:
Haiku
Your heart is in limbo
mere steps from paradise
on the fringes of hell.
And in this place of hurt
wishes and needs collide
on the pathways of fate.
Happiness is a ghost;
whose reality haunts
your imagination.
Truth, though shackled to trust;
is inseparably
linked to feelings of hope.
Love's unbelievable;
feeling like free-falling,
without fear of crashing.
And it's so unique it
can't be duplicated;
only imitated.
Categories:
imitated, beautiful, emotions, feelings, how
Form:
Blank verse
God Is
God is not confused
God is not amused
God is not impressed
God does not watch commercials
God is not the target demographic
God does not buy name brand clothes or slave labor labels
God is not stylish
God is not popular
spoken of often but
God is not popular
God
Currently has multiple copyright infringement and slander cases in litigation
‘cause people keep on placing his name in the middle of nonsense
God is often imitated and killed daily
God finds your insanity boring
God laughs at what you think you know
God know you don’t know her
God ignores posers
Your ego slashed God’s tires
God is all dressed up with nowhere to go
God is the greatest dancer you’ve never seen
God is a beautiful wallflower
Waiting on your call
Dios no hablo ingles
God is against comprehensive immigration reform
God is also against borders
and inequitable sociopolitical and socioeconomic policies
God is not capitalistic
God is not patriotic
God is not contemporary
God is not cosmopolitan
God is a Sunda(zed) effigy
the Author rendered understudy by impostors
Perfection red lined and compartmentalized
Prepackaged for your comfort and their control
God is not a GMO
God is not a seedless watermelon
or a perfectly yellow and uniform bunch of bananas
God is not a Li-ger
God is not a Kentucky Fried Chicken wing
God is not at Chick Fil-A or Church’s chicken either
God is not a contradiction or a fictional promise
God is waiting at the end of our grey wavering
God is not one of us
God is the true and living absolute
God is love unequivocal
the binary promise
the timeless omni-dimensional logic appearing illogical to the finite senses
God is exact and infinite
the mystery in which there is no intrigue
the balance in deed rendering speech meaningless
God is beyond question or renegotiation
God never whatever
God ever forever
The bearer of the standard that I strive to stand upon
The principle to which I wish to nearer draw
The here to there
The this to that
The then now and ever in an instant
The all in all in which it all makes sense
the destination
the road itself
and the motivation to keep on walking
Categories:
imitated, black african american, blessing,
Form:
Free verse