Best Impersonated Poems
Growing up in the Ozarks, for brother, sister and me
meant, for the most part, that we were totally free.
We had freedom to explore, to roam about at will,
there was no one to fear in those Arkansas hills.
We searched for wild plums, grapes and berries,
knowing Mother would make luscious jams and jellies.
We listened for the owls in the stillness of the night,
the call of the whippoorwill, waking us at first light.
The woods were calling, luring us farther each day,
eager to investigate, we did chores without delay.
We gathered mushrooms, springing up after a rain,
Mom would "fry them up," serve lunch fit for a king.
Terrapins and "tumblebugs" were fascinating to watch,
we spent time in stillness observing their steady march.
Wildflowers were abundant, struggling up through rocks,
signaling us that it was time to shed our shoes and socks.
We ran barefoot in summer, our soles tough as leather,
one pair of shoes per year, saved for cold weather.
We climbed over rail fences and through barbed wire too,
where persistent beggar's lice clung to clothes like glue.
We made our own toys, such as the "guide & wheel,"
keeping the wheel rolling took practice and skill.
We swept leaves away, hauled rocks till muscles burned,
built outdoor playhouses, impersonated adults by turn.
Fueling our imaginations and fostering dreams untold,
our play brought us together in a love we'd always hold.
This poem would go on and on if I named every pleasure,
suffice it to say instead we've many memories to treasure
Categories:
impersonated, childhood, nostalgia,
Form:
Couplet
Even young people like Fred
went from sad to mad,
thinking that happiness
was a wish not grated;
he succumbed to sickness,
he wished he were dead.
Changing moods in him persisted
and created a split personality;
he showed thoughts of insensibility,
a pitiful man unloved and afraid.
His mother stood by him and cried,
friends and family kept their distance;
once he was so loved and admired,
his grey eyes exuded confidence.
Resigned to his fate, he became a wreck
it got worse until he went completely beserk;
smashing everything he found in his way,
he impersonated an actor in his wild play.
He found pleasure in destroying a memory
too bitter for him to endure with gentleness;
when his fury was appeased by madness,
he calmed down and laughed deliriously.
At only eighteen, his destiny is sealed forever;
in a wheelchair he spends his days in distress,
not even his mom can comfort him with hugs...
he looks at her sadly, then bursts into laughter.
Categories:
impersonated, character, health, loneliness, mother
Form:
Rhyme
The calm and quiet serenity
embracing a string of fine buildings
and a hypocritical weather
which seems as if a quarrel manifested
between the day and the night
say it all as we enjoy the romantic stroll.
Our aim is highly achieved
if this was official,
we would demand a certificate
but the environment, our smiles,
our love and our world
are more than enough reward
as we warm our souls
and take the slow, gentle pace.
the red flag was totally absent
as we noticed many of them
with tails unwag
by-passing one,
not knowing it is the scumbag
began its vile
its voice and energy
much more than three angry wives
on top of their nag.
A drastic lag
in our steps of royalty
as my darling was taken over
with gags.
Then comes the full rage,
attacks and great disdain to us.
They were initially five;
but now twelve.
Creating a strategy by walking zigzag
served fruitless and more like a drag
as the voices of hell get even closer.
making my wife scared as never before.
Just one attack ,
can attract a deadly feast.
Turning us into rags
tearing us snag after snag
and separating our flesh
from body like a slag.
That one bite,
is now seconds closer
with the lead intimidator
showing its brag
but 'the protector' being my tag;
I turned swiftly and immediately
going downwards
and acting to take a weapon.
Then the dozen of cowards
impersonated Usain Bolt.
'That's my swag!" was the showing
but in reality,
I embraced my love passionately,
thanking God for such a miracle
with a skipping heart and a trembling body.
Categories:
impersonated, death, dog, fear, stress,
Form:
Prose Poetry
The stars
descend the sky,
lured by their reflections
impersonated by city
and lights.
Categories:
impersonated, beauty, city, light, night,
Form:
Cinquain
McCarthy got guffaws each week
on SNL dressed like a geek.
While mimicking Spicer,
she could’ve been nicer
on her souped-up platform so sleek!
Comic actress Melissa McCarthy, on a motorized
platform that moved FAST, impersonated now-
former White House Press Secretary Sean Spicer
on SNL, Saturday Night Live.
entered in Kevin Shaw's Name Dropper Limerick Contest on September 18, 2017
Categories:
impersonated, celebrity, humor,
Form:
Limerick
God was there!
When you limped secretly
In to Abochi's hut
On that silent night
And forcefully polluted
Her virgin womb
With the waste
Of your foetus
Making her bleed to dead
God was there!
When you ripped earth
And buried that stolen treasure
Which sent your blind brother
to the gallows because
You robbed his innocence too
God was there!
When you stood
Before the multitude
With the bloody fetish charm
around your waist
And impersonated him
For wealth
He was there,
When you warned the people
To abolish idol worship
Yet you were a fetish priest
In the gown of a reverend father
God was there!
when you poisoned Ebrahem
Because he won the wrestling bout
And made them stone to death
Her innoncent wife
For been a witch
God was there!
When you rifted
The clan of ebo
With the dirty untrue gossips
You always mongered
He was there!
When you always plundered
The wealth of the poor Eko travellers And robbed back the coins
You always gave the blind begger
God was there!
when you always masked
Your face to enter
The village brothel
You dubbed the nun(s) monastery
God was always there
Do not think
You were always alone
He watched you always
You can cheat man not God!
Categories:
impersonated, bible, evil, sin,
Form:
Free verse
Like many, I masqueraded in shades of urban gray.
I offered my love to the midnight neon angel.
I walked the caliginous streets alone and astray.
She remained distant, alluring, always disdainful.
I courted cynicism, resignation, and despair as my style.
I wore tilted fedoras in smoke-filled reeking bars.
I feigned culture and literacy, trying to look worthwhile.
I blush now, recalling my see-through shooting stars.
Like many, I was just a child renting a man’s body.
I impersonated adulthood with stylized gloom.
I thought maturity was an act, so mine was shoddy.
I donned trench coats, my affectation in any room.
My blinking street angel had seen it all before.
My love for her was simulation and nothing more.
Categories:
impersonated, angel, child, dark, love,
Form:
Sonnet
Dad was a Deputy Sherriff
My uncle a city cop
My Dad’s car was an unmarked one
My uncle’s had lights on top
Dad had mounted a big siren
In the grill, under the hood
The switch was below the dashboard
He hide it as best he could
I was still going to high school
Dad told my brother and me
“If you even touch that siren,
You’ll be in trouble with me”
Being one to test the limits
Friends in the car seeking fun
We had just stopped at the stop light
I gave the engine the gun
The guy in the car beside me
He stared me right in the face
Then when he revved up his engine
We knew we in a race
As the light went from red to green
We ripped right out from the scene
Let him get a little ahead
Then I turned on the siren
Well that scared the snot out of him
He pulled right over and stopped
We laughed so hard as we drove by
It was fun being a cop
We thought that was just so much fun
We had to do it once more
The back seat guys got excited
Stomping their feet on the floor
A couple of stop lights later
We had a race on the way
Again as we both were speeding
And he was pulling away
That’s when I turned on the siren
But to my total surprise
A car that was right behind me
Turned on a siren likewise
I quickly pulled the car over
My uncle right in my face
Oh my God how he chewed me out
I hung my head in disgrace
Uncle Lloyd can be a tough guy
Said I’d end up in the jail
You impersonated a cop
Your family you have failed
After he finished his lecture
So shocked when he let me go
The guys got out, I headed home
What happens next I don’t know
I got home, went straight to my room
I’ll have to face what’s to come
My Dad’s is also a tough guy
I know what I did was dumb
My Uncle never told on me
When I was grown I told Dad
Even after all those years
It actually made him mad
Categories:
impersonated, father, car, me, car,
Form:
Quatrain
The world of matter bents awareness and duality,
pertaining to required dimensionality.
The mental loss by worship sense data rigidly,
quantitative measures conformity.
Reforming towards natural perfection,
which by some folks becomes a cruel intersection.
The desperation of religious handicap,
following blindly some holy scrap.
Little world in little hats banging the wall,
the egos cry for to save us all.
Considered distorted experiences,
as guilt persists in emotional glimpses.
Time in clockwork liberation,
past lives handicap attached to sensation.
Distinctions between reality and shadow,
consciousness attracted to divine flow.
Sufficient transformation by living,
as below or above all is given.
Poignant realization of what the soul is not,
beginnings of true certainties begot.
Faith that creates faith and inner evolution,
taken the image forth to all else exclusion.
Many individual emotions we have to difference,
group state temptation and wilderness.
The struggle out of the familiar in critical state,
steps of evolution where the future meets present.
The attractively impersonated desirable goal,
pictured reality for the timeless soul.
Categories:
impersonated, 12th grade, memory, metaphor,
Form:
Ballade
For example a Dachshund dog was thrown 5 floors to his death
The owner photographed this and posted it online
His dog looked like he was sleeping but was dead
I tracked the Dachshund Dog’s Killer down and killed him
I put him in an 80s violent video game with block graphics
I hit him with a stabbing dagger in both shoulders
Then machete chopped half of his pinto skull off
Finally finishing him off with a flick knife in the gut
Next there was the case of the animal rescue centre
9 pussycats were murdered for no real reason
Except they were living in the centre
I drove up to the animal sanctuary in a Technical
I beeped and they opened the gates and I saw him
The Pussycat Murderer who swaggered about like a real man
I aimed my remote control 50 Cal gun with my PS2 controller
And popped the motherer with a hundred 50 Cal Raufoss rounds
A woman cut the foot off her dog with a machete
Because the dog annoyed his owner
All this was filmed and posted online
I found the Limping Woman who made her dog painfully limp
I said Hi and smirked then tightly tied her up
And had my way with her 25 times in a calendar day
Her pussy was sore and needed stitching due to the table leg
As did her feet when I sliced off all her damn toes
Most bizarre of all was the small dog
Who was partly skinned alive by his owner
This dog was rescued and given treatment
Dog Skinner was a hard man to find but not hard in a fight
I threw him a knife and said, ‘Skin me or be maimed...’
His lunges were slow and unskilled and embarrassing
I blocked them with one hand and closed my eyes
I snapped his spine with one single side kick
And a man drove his car and threw out his dog
Like a bit of trash with duct taped up feet and muzzle
The cops rescued the dog and jailed the man
I impersonated a Police Officer and ‘apprehended’ the suspect
Who had just been released from jail for leaving his pet dog for dead
He let me into his house and I Tasered the bastard and duct taped him up
I dragged Dog Duct Tape Man to my fake squad car and put him in the trunk
I drove him to a secluded spot and did a very enjoyable EJK
I enjoyed each and every act of Pet’s Revenge and Murder
This is my new job and I always enjoy it and get away with it
I have backing from Big Brother and the Illuminated People
Categories:
impersonated, abuse, anger, animal, pets,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Feathers torn from the gaping napes of wind began to dwindle and resist in spite of the gravity crushing tsunami.
Trapped in a facade of impersonating flowing rain every feather dived to their unplanned descent.
All drowning in the nightmarish truth of actually being smothered in tears of a blue eyed-giant as they fell from the sky of that big blue eye’s, dead decapitated face.
A face severed on a head that hid a heavenly chateaus inside a false impersonated globe forever resting among the stars.
Inside housed all kinds of dimensional beings rarely ever seen but all known to possess legendary archaic features.
They mastered all the realms and lastly rule our skies.
They are cold warriors of combat- handled by their deadly grace, poisonous envy, blinding halos, and suffocating wings…
Oh such undeniably divine things!
First plucked from you, then stolen from me!
A conscious belief known only by those who wish to remain unseen
as we become the common theory of all your pretty inanities.
Categories:
impersonated, allusion, beautiful, destiny, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
We all fail in one way or another, and failure
is an essential and painful way to learn...
while searching for that life's treasure;
and if it is never found, rejoice in what you have
by honoring the gifts that were given to us:
to love with an immense desire to be loved,
to be comforted when others turn away and
you can't find a shoulder to lean on!
Why be a perfectionist in all you do? But altruism isn't fair,
and you may miss out on those chances for acquaintances,
look around: people are happy with only significant things:
being heard and surrounded with inseparable friends...
even birds gather on the roofs tops to chat among themselves,
and notice this human misery, not wishing to be us indeed;
and we have more intelligence than them, and are much stronger
and wiser to let unhappiness and envy derange our existence!
I tried all and nothing determined or guaranteed
how successful or gratified I would have been,
if had impersonated the role of perfectionist;
meekness flees from us when we detour,
to shorten the distance and the struggle to get there...
to devise a plan is to start being human to the very core,
detesting the absurd idea of being a perfectionist,
and deviate from the dilemma which devitalizes our energy!
I spoke to a perfectionist who was as sharp
as the expressions he used in his flawless speech,
a well-educated person with an unlimited knowledge:
what I wasn't impressed with...wasn't his worth or ample pride,
or his self-importance and the self-revealing attitude
towards his brilliant personality and self-esteem:
but a lack of perception...to seem so worried about his age;
and seeing my deriding look, he took off his shades and cried!
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
Categories:
impersonated, social
Form:
Ottava rima
I walk my life on my own terms,
setting the course on the pathway I paved.
I see probing faceless people crowd uncalled,
break the fence of protected privacy, try to pry,
asking incisive questions shredding my persona,
I don’t answer.
They want their footprints I follow compliant,
abandoning me for what I am on the wayside,
and exist as a void formless entity impersonated.
Caustic comments they make of me being obdurate,
on the manner I behave, extremely odd to them,
I don’t react.
In my heart mired in the quicksand of harsh time
emotions struggle to rise from the unfeeling debris.
Things good done to me aren’t acknowledged loud,
buds of your love bloom in me, I adore unexpressed.
Porous sensitivity absorbs all the feelings inarticulate,
I don’t demonstrate.
I will be doing till the end what I do at will,
even if you all call me a black sheep,
the intransigent me.
Written : July 19, 2019
February 13, 2020
Contest : Strand Select N, Any Form. Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand
Categories:
impersonated, emotions, how i feel,
Form:
Free verse
I walk my life on my own terms I set,
create the course on the lone pathway I pave.
I see probing faceless uncalled people pile,
break the barrier of protected privacy and pry,
asking incisive questions piercing my persona,
I don’t answer.
They want their footprints I follow compliant,
abandon what defines me on the wayside,
exist as a formless empty entity impersonated.
Caustic comments they make of me being inflexible,
on the atypical manner I behave, overtly odd to them,
I don’t react.
My heart quivers in the quicksand of harsh times,
emotions struggle to rise from the despondent debris.
Things good done for me I can’t acknowledge loud,
the bud of love for you blooms in me, I adore unexpressed.
Porous sensitivity absorbs all the feelings inarticulate,
I don’t demonstrate.
I will be doing till the end what I do, not being blunt,
even if you call me an obdurate being,
I don't care.
Categories:
impersonated, lonely, me,
Form:
Free verse
I CONTACTED SPECIAL AGENT PAULA BRAND 2003 ANDREW JAY TOWNSEND JOHNSON HENRY BREAKING INTO MY HOME SEARCHING FOR IDENTITIES IN MY FAMILIES OBITUARIES ARRIVING WITH GUNMAN ANDREW HENRY TO END MY LIFE IN TAMPA HE WAS MURDERED AT MY FEET ANDREW WAS HIRED BY CIRO GARGANO JAY TOWNSEND JOHNSON HENRY SPECIAL AGENT PAULA BRAND TO MURDER ME IN ORDER TO IMPERSONATE MY IDENTITY IN ORDER TO OBSTRUCT JUSTICE IN ARSON MURDERS OF 9 PERSONS 23 YEARS LATER SPECIAL AGENT PAUL BRAND ARRIVE WITH MY STALKER MY IMPOSTER BREAKING IN OUR HOME SEARCHING FOR DOCUMENTS TO FALSIFY PHOTOS SHOT RECORDS PASSPORTS BIRTH CERTIFICATES MARRIAGE SEATED WITH MY JAN 6TH NEIGHBORS HIDING IN CAMPERS HACKING INTO OUR WIFI EVEN OUR RUNG CAMERAS OBSTRUCTING JUSTICE ECPOSING FBI INFORMANTS ON THE STREETS IN CHICAGO BEHIND BARS ACROSS THE MIDWEST ALL RESULTS OF SPECIAL AGENT PAULA BRAND BREACH IMPERSONATING FBI INFORMANT WITH JAMAICAN DEALERS FAMILY MEMBERS IN TAMPA REEKING HAVOC COVERING ARSON MURDERS OF 9 PERSONS UNDER WIRES INSTALLED ON MY UNBORN CHILD THIS RESULTED IN HUNDREDS OF FALSE CONVICTIONS UNDER SPECIAL AGENT PAULA BRAND TARGETING AFRICAN AMERICAN OFFICERS AND JUNK SICK IRISH OFFICERS SELLING DRUGS FOR GARGANO CRIMINAL GROUP DATA BREACHES CYBER ATTACKS ON OUR HOME COMPUTERS THIS ALLOWED JAY TOWNSEND JOHNSON HENRY TO IMPERSONATE MY IDENTITY THROUGH SPECIAL AGENT PAULA BRAND TERRORISTS THREATS AS CIRO GARGANO IMPERSONATE MY POW VETERAN HUSBAND EXPOSING MY IDENTITY AS AN FBI INFORMANT IN JAMAICA ACROSS THE MIDWEST THIS SHATTERED ALL THE COVICTIONS THAT OCCURED INDER MY WEARING WIRES PREGNANT BUYING WEAPONS AND DRUGS FROM CORRUPT OFFICERS RESULTING FROM ARSON MURDER OF 9 THE ENTIRE FEDERAL BUILDING LASALLE AND VAN BUREAN HOUSED PRISONERS CIRO GARGANO FALSIFIED INFORMANT FOR SPECIAL AGENT ALAN KING AND SPECIAL AGENT PAULA BRAND TO FALSIFY RESULTING IN A SEVRE BREACH FROM 1984 ONGOING ON THE STREETS AND BEHIND BARS HINDREDS OF CONVICTED FELONS INCARCERATED FALSLY BY CORRUPT AGENTS HELPING TO EXPOSE INFORMANTS TO DEATH ROW IN ORDER TO COVER UP CIRO GARGANO ARSON MURDERS OF 9 PERSONS SEVERE THREATS ON MY LIFE WHILE MY IDENTITY WAS IMPERSONATED BY A JAMAICAN IMPOSTER JAY TOWNSEND JOHNSON HENRY CLEARLY RESULTING INTO DRIVE BY SHOOTINGS
Categories:
impersonated, allah,
Form:
Naat