Best Impersonation Poems
The Restaurant Menu has a picture.
Three golden brown Pancakes
A large corn colored slice of butter
Melting on top running over the sides.
Griddle Cakes doing a Nathalie Wood impersonation
Drowning in a sea of thick maple syrup
Cartoon like ribbons of aroma rising upward.
The old man made them every Sunday morning before church.
Which he never attended
Black hair slicked back
Partially stained white Dago-Tee
Cigarette dangling from his lips.
The ash worming longer with each Popeye exhale
From the side of his mouth
Large bowl on his left hip
Attacking the batter with grunts of enthusiasm.
Tattoos on his arms flexing larger then smaller
Giving the appearance they were dancing.
Tatted when he was a Cook in the Navy
During World War II.
I imagined him storming the beaches of the South Pacific
With spatula in hand
"Don't need to cut'em with a damn knife.
Use your fork "
He'd holler wrestling the knife from my hand
Then throwing it into the sink.
Slapping the back of my head in anger
No Waitress wait!
I'll have the Waffles instead
With strawberries if you have them.
Yes, Waffles
We never had a Waffle Iron.
Time is precious and therefore we have to make it useful with a more better value for ourselves.
The moment when we meet a new person, is it better just relaxed to be ourselves and do everything as normal.
When we can gain interests or the stakeholders, it is not necessary to change, only when we are trying to impress another person to give them a better impression.
But it is just a wasting of time and we may get ourselves overreacting with a confused attitude.
Because if we are sure of ourselves or something (a product), this is indicating the much confidence we have thus a change in character or dignified on our attitude is totally unnecessary.
Be ourselves will remain the best and deliver the lasting result, because we can not sustain lifetime for impersonation others.
To impress others there are usually also involved expenses and we need to use more energy because we imitate to be another person.
If we do something good for ourselves and for the community, it is not really necessary to impress others, just presume we make it for zero additional costs.
Good things will of course be spreading like the wildfire, especially when others are feeling contented, because word of mouth is the best thing that could happen.
Only impress ourselves by doing good things and something we can be proud of.
That will give the best impression for our life and every second is not a wasted time for us.
I wish you a healthy life.
Kindly Regards,
Author Jan Jansen
http://poems.easybranches.com/never-waste-time-trying-impress-others.html
A tale from the soliloquies of my imagination
Now I am thinking of evolution
My theory reveals the nature's mystery
"It all begins in the sea, our ancestry."
Scientists bow in my appreciation.
A tale from the soliloquies of my imagination
Now I am a doctor prescribing medication
My job is to keep diabetes at bay
"Please take this pill twice a day."
Patients are full of admiration.
A tale from the soliloquies of my imagination
Now I am an actor performing an imitation
My act amazes the most critical person
"It's elementary, my dear Watson."
A deserving Emmy nomination.
A tale from the soliloquies of my imagination
Now I am writer requiring direction
My book is a thriller
'Vengeance of a charitable killer.'
An interesting plot in formation.
A tale from the soliloquies of my imagination
Now I am an army officer defending my nation
My command evokes my army
"Today, we shall crush the enemy."
Daring acts of retribution.
A tale from the soliloquies of my imagination
Now I am a philosopher seeking a solution
My notion predicts the downfall of capitalist mentality
"Change we must for eco-friendly sustainability."
A guaranteed life time award and recommendation.
A tale from the soliloquies of my imagination
Now I am a leader of revolution
My speech inspires the people to fight
"Brothers and Sisters, it's our birth right."
A sea of charged up population.
A tale from the soliloquies of my imagination
Now I am building a perfect nation
My government is the epitome of socialism
"Minister, I see a populace full of optimism."
Few steps away from perfection.
A tale from the soliloquies of my imagination
Now I am a poet of aspiration
My prose is a limerick
"Hmm! It rhyme's with 'Blackadder's' 'Baldrick' "
It's a poetic exaggeration.
A tale from the soliloquies of my imagination
Now I am me dreaming about another impersonation
My brain needs to stop
"Oh God! need no more dreams to pop."
Wonder why I always keep dreaming a situation.
P.S the soliloquies are in quotes
The Tex-Mex festival was bountiful
But it scratched my innards, much like steel wool
When the cramps began
Oh, how fast I ran
My impersonation of Old Faithful
(dedicated to Naija, my countree)
Naija, I hail o
A house horrorful than
The Hammer house of horror!
Naija, I hail o
An animal dreadful than
The dreaded white shark!
Naija, I hail o
A den of animallike humans
Who prey on all preyables!
Naija, I hail o
The home of impersonation
At its peak..
The den of corruption
At its best...
The hearthrob of religious bigotry
At its purest...
The lover of insecurity
At its highest...
The house of crimes
At its rawest...
The sweetheart of deception
At its masterpiece...
The friend of political acrimony
At its baddest....
The all in all of things
Better left unsaid
At its various unsaid forms...
Naija, I hail o
A marriage of convenience
By the British
Now a kid
Of inconveniencies and anarchy....
Naija, I hail o
Where everything thought
To be impossible is done
With a malevolent frangrance!
To the amazement
Of all and sundry!
Naija, I hail o
Where few enjoy
And the most suffer
Yet
Tonnes of smiles
Flood every face you can see!
Naija, I hail o
Where I keep wondering
When will it all change?
I am where King David was born. My name means, “House of bread”.
I am located six miles south of Jerusalem; 262 miles northeast of Cairo, Egypt;
and 140 miles southwest of Damascus, Syria. When the Caesars ruled, all roads did not lead to me, but to Rome. But still, I’m easy to find.
I’m not the first in mind when one thinks of the Middle East. But the prophets spoke of me as the place where a Jewish Messiah would be born.
Centuries later, the Jewish leaders gave King Herod vital information about me that caused him more than a little concern.
It’s not always what or who you are, or whether you will ever become a star.
God has always known about me, and religious leaders were well aware.
No, I never became a star of any kind; but wise men came from afar and were led straight to me by a star.
Nay, my friend, it’s not the size that ushers one to a place of renown. But it’s who or what comes out of you that makes one more that just a little town.
O yes indeed. I am that Little Town of Bethlehem that made room for The Bright and Morning Star. Out of me came The Christ Child, Jesus Christ.
12162016cjPS; (An impersonation)
Batman wangled a one-wish deal from a genie fair and real,
ruing that his graveyard shift duty had been driving him nutty,
this flapping around nocturnal, chasing this and that criminal.
He wanted to be Spiderman, that glitzy celebrity on teevee,
and genie said yes, but would not guarantee identical identity,
and that impersonation or trademark law Batman ought to know.
Batman insisted on his wish, genie granted it with a minor twist:
the spider silken cord wouldn't zip out straight from his wrist,
but through holes of his shoes or pants, whichever opened first.
So, folks, if a guy swishes by upright, that's the real Spiderman alright,
but if he dangles upside down by his butt, then that's him, the man-bat,
and if that's unsightly, that's arachnid anatomy, don't blame the genie!
What is your answer when you doubt?
A. Perhaps the occult or mystics
B. Learn some escape artists' tricks
C. Just memorize Proverbs 3:6
D. Practice the piano - Chopsticks
What’s your plan when you’ve lost your route?
A. GPS, time and time again
B. Try memory classes in Zen
C. Find your way with Prevagen
D. The tower -- Proverbs 18:10
What is your source for lack of clout?
A. TV shows on how to survive
B. The shield of Psalms 3:3 thru 5
C. Put your smile on overdrive
D. Google search on staying alive
What’s the key when you’re pushed to shout?
A. Gentle words – Proverbs 15:1
B Use headphones and go for a run
C. Do a mime impersonation
D. Pretend to use a machine gun
What’s your hope when you've bottomed out?
A. My dad, a college PHD
B. Las Vegas or the lottery
C. Stop drinking that Chinese green tea
D. Benefits from Psalms 1-0-3
March 25, 2013, edited January 28, 2023
Sponsor Suzanne Delaney
Contest Name The Multiple Choice Poem
You hypocrite! You selfish twit.
You only exist as a counterfeit
to your ancestors dreams. You are unfit.
So you are here. You whip up fear.
You can't resist the odd sneer or a jeer
At those you would rather make disappear.
Their loss is huge. They need refuge.
But when you're asked to help with the deluge
You do your impersonation of Scrooge.
You go to church, a front pew perch.
But if you did just a little research
You'd see God would not leave them in the lurch.
New arrivals, whose survival
Brings out those instincts so vile and tribal.
Maybe you should go reread that bible.
Not the same God? Your logic's flawed.
You are being exposed now as a fraud.
People are people, even from abroad.
Change your thinking. Boats are sinking.
Give to them your charity, unblinking.
This once big world continues it's shrinking.
April 17 2017
How can I live in this world,
Where flattery, hypocrisy, coax, bigotry, shrewdness, impersonation are huddled?
But I’m a dunce to do all of these utterly necessary characteristics.
How can I live in this world,
Where killing, corruption, forgery, treachery are inseparable part of success?
But I’m a coward of accepting this kill or to be killed ideology.
How can I live in this word,
Where fornication, rape, seduction, adultery, spumes of sperm, prowling and attacking of vaginas are so recommended to be a hero, a man?
But I’m disgorging of thinking these stuffs.
How can I live in this world,
Where money, wealth, contentiousness, covetousness are the scale of being counted as a human?
But I’m fool to imagine of these terrestrial crowns.
How can I live in this world,
Where I cannot cope up with me,
I can’t believe me,
I can’t love me,
I can’t forgive me,
I can’t touch me,
I can’t respect me,
I can’t make understand me,
I can’t endure me,
I can’t ………..
They delight in wearing women’s fancy dresses
Intricate wigs fashioned as highly coifed tresses,
Padding in places gives them feminine curves
Appearing like that would shatter my nerves.
Entertainers par excellence, they can lip-synch
While dancing in a line together all in sync,
Laughing and joking, sometimes in a crude way
One hardly ever sees them in the light of day
Exaggerating in fashion of the highest couture
Experts in the arts, the world of pop culture,
What leads them to take up this type of show
Female impersonation, I guess I’ll never know.
I do admire their abilities, their derring-do --
Becoming sensational entertainers like Mama Ru,
Money in bras, they laugh all the way to the bank
I am happy being a man; I have God to thank!
Written November 17, 2022
“A La Larissa” perfume has appeared!
The fragrance of it is great and neared.
It’s just for your elegance and intelligence.
It’s not for the masses!
It’s for the women in the evening dresses.
It’s for the ladies of extra classes.
This perfume is an explosion of warmth,
It gives you real sexual storms.
It gives you the enveloping notes,
It rises up your best emotes,
It’s a heady memorable ode,
It’s the mode of a highly sort of perfume.
You’ll feel comfortable with it at any ballroom.
It’s eccentric smell will make you feel so well.
When you are in the evening gown,
It will turn all heads on its own.
This perfume is really the best.
The best and… out of the rest!
Just a drop of it and…you are on the top.
A drop and …you’ll be for sure the pop.
What a prestige! What a delight!
Magic perfume “ A La Larissa”!!!
You can only hear men’s whisper:
She is a vanquisher!
Is she a princess from Saragossa?
Oh, no! This aroma is from Odessa!
It has the smell of the Black Sea.
It has the fragrance of an acacia tree.
“A La Larissa" perfume is just fantastic!
It’s so poetic and esthetic!
It smells the rain, it smells the snow!
The world of all flowers it shows!
With “A La Larissa” you’ll understand
What real art is on our land.
Using “A La Larissa”
You’ll get the ocean of sensation.
You’ll get your own impersonation!
It will even cause a poet’s inspiration.
It will give you the best charm,
It will give you the tenderness alarm.
You’ll be out of masses an exception!
You’ll be … The Lady Perfection!
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The victim weeps constantly
she defends herself when she has no need
and every plead to her sanity
lays rejected in tearful liquidity
She cries out her bullying tactic
of mental anguish
and blackmailed by your own emotional
her reasoning to melancholy so dramatic
and sure to be sorrowful of misunderstanding
a martyrdom's wreck
too hurt by all her own suffering
There is no fault
no compensation
this world of little girl lost
by inconsiderate condemnation
overburdened by the woeful cost
became the victim of herself
Never plausible
this walls defense
the projection of her victimization
an effigy's impersonation
is always someone else
as you trip and scatter on her eggshell dance
There must be someone to blame
for all this pain
some accusation
some undefinable curse must have been given
to drain her strength
to see herself weaken
but still demand your attention
there can be no acceptance
of past indiscretion
and by willing blindness
becomes the parody of her own misfortune
No one can equal her distress
but from somewhere
it has come from someone else
she is battered and bruised
this sweet tiny soul
too timid to confront her guilt
too innocent to escape her own persuasion
and with all her misdeeds
by herself she is eaten
The victim weeps continually
she protects herself when she has no need
they still stand by her
all those who love her
but their compassion
for her it has become her weapon
to entreat a response
to her victimization
There must be someone to blame
for all this pain
and someone else
must carry her burden
someone else must suffer her accusation
be the mirror of herself projection
All throughout I shooed the crooked thoughts away.
For a doll such as her Dolly, with her unrealistic
Curves and flawless skin, would be hard put to
Find comfort onboard daddy’s ship. She’d find
That loneliness is the least of a seaman’s concern.
There would be waves and stormy weathers, there
Would be winds and shark infested waters.
Importantly, there’ll be men who goes for months
At a time without a whiff of their wives’ smell.
But that time, of these things, she had no idea yet.
So even though chuckling deep inside with pent up
Malice and humor, I entreated God to keep my
Adult mind pure, make it that of a child, banish
28 years of worldly experience so during that
Magical time, a three year old and a doll spoke.
I write this poem now so that someday, upon these
Words, she’ll know she was once blissfully naïve.
And when life has finally thought her tough lessons,
Scarred her plenty, knocked her a few, she’ll understand
That we always make the best of what comes our way.
I’ll probably gift this to her on that most special day,
Amidst white laces and promises, flowers, lit
Candles and the flapping of white doves’ wings.
After she has read this, she’ll probably cry, or
Smile or both. But the tears then will be of happiness.
She’ll understand too, with that bond that ties
A daughter to her sire, that her poor father’s heart
Is breaking, not for lost comfort toys, but for innocence
Saying goodbye. And lo, whatever story she’ll tell
Or impersonation she’ll do (of why she’ll leave)…
…The child and poet in her father’s heart,
Will just have to believe.
I'm a genie and Batman wangled
a one-wish, real deal from me;
he said graveyard shift duties
have been driving him real nuts lately;
he was bored flapping nocturnal,
chasing this and that criminal.
He wanted to be Spiderman,
that celebrity on teevee;
I said yes, but identical identities
I couldn't guarantee;
for crimes of impersonation he shouldn't
look at me, I was merely his genie.
On his wish he would insist;
I granted it with a minor twist:
the spider silk wouldn't zip out
from his fingers or from his wrist,
but through his shoes or the crotch
of his pants, whichever opened first.
So, if the guy swooshes by upright,
that's the Spiderman alright;
if he dangles upside down by his butt
that's the man who's a bat;
if that's unsightly, don't blame me,
that's arachnid anatomy!