Best Plagiarize Poems
When my muse ruled
my conscience's compass,
waterfalls of rhyming rivers
revealed unspoken secrets -
long forgotten in my heart.
Exposing vulnerable verses
from vaults where vines
had wrapped my tongue
into subdued silence.
In the Injustices of
judicial juxtaposition,
speech spoke in a
paradoxical oxymoron -
'deafening silence'
Pouring in drops of crimson,
I became a convicted cliché,
taken hostage in a
Machiavellian marketplace,
where I felt illiterate - harassed,
by insidious guards and
anapestic gangsters.
In the personification
of confinement,
where word weavers
are poetically unapologetic,
virtual villains ventured
to plagiarize my vocabulary.
An enjambment of envious
eyes attempted to burn
my anthology of alliterations,
so I buried each chapter
in a communal garden,
under a galaxy of ghazals,
hoping pantoum petals,
would bloom in scarlet
stanzas with sophisticated
syllables of rhythmic refrains.
Agitated by
artificial assonance,
my artistry is an
analogy of angst,
where cathartic couplets
of consistent consonance
care not for iambic ideologies.
My elusive elegy is the
legacy of my resistance,
as in my melancholy,
I'll forever be a
misunderstood metaphor.
Silencing intrusive ink,
to prevent another massacre.
With no concern for applause,
I've removed the
garlands of sakura chains.
For I'm no longer a
prisoner of poetry,
but my muse's musk
still remains....
I’ve decided to have me a seat and tell you what’s on my mind.
The following words are original, they are nobody else’s but mine.
They may not be very polished, and my grammar might not be just right.
I will never be a great poet, but I sleep quite well at night.
This is not some artificial intelligence, it’s just my fingers on keys.
These rhymes are just for fun, kind of like the birds and the bees.
There is no one I seek to impress, just hoping for a smile or two.
My grass will never be greener, and my sky contains the same blue.
I might write a little about faith, or maybe my incredible wife.
You might hear a line about gas or some of the truth in my life.
Feel free to turn up your nose, you will find that I really don’t care.
I will always be true to my friends, and immune to each snobby stare.
Go ahead and copy my words, you can even pass them off as your own.
My walls are all made of glass, so it can be you to cast the first stone.
Feel free to do as you please, our admin will not even look.
The dishonest will continue to plagiarize, then brag about writing a book.
In me, dwells therein a pilgrim soul.
Always on the move and on the go.
It growls, with a very strong voice:
“Do not dare fence me in…worse…
To attempt to still my strong voice.”
Not penning here to make you smile.
Prefer, walking on nails for many miles.
To be sweet and cute is hardly my tone.
Prefer the fresh scent of a summer rain.
Than following the crowd, the ultimate pain.
I’ve given up, calling myself a real poet.
That name belongs to some, I know it!
We are not poets simply just because we
are online.
There is my vocabulary to expand greatly.
And to learn the use of imagery tastefully.
If the fates allow me more time on earth.
Perhaps in a few more years, I will write
something of worth.
Please know, I, myself, am not drunk on my writes.
Meanwhile, I know it is of no use to plagiarize or cheat,
using AI!
Pen of the present, as much as you can.
I would like to know you-now, not who you
were way back when
Wake up this world to honor truth,, it is your duty.
To wed, both love and beauty, the true poetic trophy.
7/18/2023
4am PST
I thought to write
a perfect poem
but realized that's
just not me
most of my poems
blank honesty --
not rightly Classical
not wrongly Free
bound by the heart
I will pen the moment
take personal chances
let others plagiarize
destiny --
what you give-
you receive
what you sense-
you believe
what you take-
you plagiarize
what you correct-
you equalize
what you speak-
you express
what you touch,
you bless
what you barter-
you exchange
what you dislike-
you change
there are many things
in life that balance each other out
may you find the stability peace inspires
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1.6.20
Poet don’t feel right
Poet struggles sleeping at night
POETS NEVER SLEEP
At least…that’s what other poets keep telling me
But this lackluster slumbering just might be
From the unwavering weight of all responsibility
Poet only seems awake while walking through daydreams
Only wants to live life lavished in imagination
Painting alternate universes in which the stars guide me
An alternate universe in which i am happy
The moon and its tides constantly aligned
An alternate universe in which my artistry arrives unagonized
An alternate universe already constructed by someone else
An alternate universe in which contains an atmosphere in which I can breathe in which should be the one I’m in now
But my nervous system glitches,
Spine tinges spitting gibberish
Jittering shaky legs racing while staying stationary
Amazed at the way
A stage shakes me
In vibrations
At least its safe to say I said something today
Shared a story shoved, cornered in a junk drawer
At least I keep poetry in motion
only productive when my mind’s flowing
But I know my audience
I know they’re only hearing my poet voice
They only see my tragedies rehashed in romantics
There's only so many ways to manipulate the pain staked
in my chest in my throat in my head
So I choke on my raw truth
so it’s more digestible
for everybody else in the room
If not on the page,
Where is a tortured artists’ pain safe?
Paper scrapes
Psalms
Poems
Cutting deep enough
For me to bleed enough
For you to envision the misery
I’m in
Some alternate universe in which I am not a poet
Instead,
I am illiterate at the expense of my own pen and tongue
Instead, I await the unarriving;
Bleeding out without any sign of rescue
Instead, I plagiarize my inhabitance to a world
constructed by everyone except myself
Instead,
I am here
Earth rotates
Everything else still
I am still
Here.
Villanelle: Is there shame worse than that to be caught dead unknown
Is there shame worse than that to be caught dead unknown
How many would give their lives young to be acclaimed
Sell their souls deceive connive plagiarize unbeknown
Burn Rome to the tune of fires surging from a lyre lone
How many Caesars seek Cleopatra’s arms to be proclaimed
Is there shame worse than that to be caught dead unknown
Remember Kennedys risk turns with a beauty home-grown
To recall a king forfeit his throne for a woman twice-maimed
Sell their souls deceive connive plagiarize unbeknown
Yearn for a name to keep from gnawing marrow-less bone
Seek solace striving to escape the stifling that’s ordained
Is there shame worse than that to be caught dead unknown
While others don thick-skinned masks in search of renown
Contort their insecure senses in complexes unrestrained
Sell their souls deceive connive plagiarize unbeknown
Who among the living can claim to have produced the clone
Genji Monogatari Monkey Quijote among authors maimed
Is there shame worse than that to be caught dead unknown
Sell their souls deceive connive plagiarize unbeknown
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
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Poetry Advice
I’m about to submit some advice
Solid as poetry’s gneiss:
- A word to the wise
- Don’t plagiarize,
You’ll be squeezed in a strong legal vice!
Haiku Licentioso
('They who quaff this cup shall see god
and The Magdalen')
with the *powder
that goes in the tea
comes the instructions:
''dump into the brew
mix salaciously
drink licentiously
and feel like a libertine''
''caution's for the birds
toss the birds back into the leaves
grab a broom
aim for and dip on the dance floor,
docido,
and mix salaciously
drink licentiously
feel like a libertine''
''noon's for stealing shade
afternoons for sawing logs
nights for stealing even deeper
and dawn for burning rubber
out of jail mate hell (or heaven),
so mix salaciously
drink licentiously
and cuss on your knees
like a libertine''
''love's for the blind
hatred for the weak
and bravery for the mad,
mix salaciously
drink licentiously
and ask for rebates on living
like a libertine''
''file for Chapter 11 on your intellect
strip-tease for bees
perjure yourself to bears
read *********** in leaves of the tea
and yellow journalism in your pee,
mix salaciously
drink licentiously
and celebrate like a libertine''
''acknowledge god in the tax code
the 1-800 goddess in the phone book
chase your mother-in-law down the street
catch yourself tripping over your dreams
plagiarize your nightmares,
and mix salaciously
drink licentiously
and hiccup like a libertine -
- for missing the bus
is half the fun
unless it's a disease you catch
your dog lies down with fleas
arises with a bladder-full
while divorce doesn't quite pay the bills,
so mix salaciously
drink licentiously
and go the way of all flesh and blood
like a libertine Ph. D.''
* (hibiscus-flavored rose hip tea added to regular tea)
not to boastfully brag
or to overly self-praise
but I gave, and I gave
my creative lyrics
the best and the worst
of my unhappy days
thinking to myself they will
never see the light of day
so I put pen to paper
and paper to my many dreams
and set out to explain to myself
the wonder of life's distinct existence
or life's complete ugly misses
but someone surreptitiously came along
with betrayal in mind
and gave the world all my hopes and penned dreams
that i didn't know how to share
but to simply misrepresent
in mass misrepresentation
must be ok if your a musical person
I sometimes wonder if that country singer
feels the pain of me
or the rapper knows he and she
took many of my dreams
so got a safe deposit box
and then the vulgar and profane
came in to view
the things that the musical world
would do
p.s. all in the name of jobs...
it takes more than just a singer to get the job of plagiarizing
Explicit Perfect Example to Follow
How much time should I take to devote
To poets and glad I have then to quote
Amy my poems theirs start to buffer
Though at times things get tougher.
What if I were to agitate and aggrandize
And even at times personally plagiarize
But another thing I forgot to mention
Never ever was it my original intention.
While you take this for what it is worth
God who is sovereign over our earth
There are times my head seems hollow
God is always perfect example to follow.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
Germany was home of the poets and thinkers.
My Horn family was originally from Rothenberg,
Germany.
.
From my thoughts on the paper in which it lies,
My everlasting passion is inked as it dries.
The way I feel inside, you might want to spy,
But if you pry, how will my lyrics surprise?
A song for thought will only leave a thought.
May sound difficult, but that’s just how I talk.
I was lost, but I found me.
Dreaming and believing that writing was my key.
The way it flows and the way that it goes pumps me to speak
the very thoughts that many minds chose to keep.
Many rocks I’ve kicked and many decisions I’ve made.
Any wrongs I take the blame.
Tic-tac-toe is only a game.
I plagiarize your eyes with the notes that I’ve taken,
A high note here and a low note there-
You’d swear I’m in your head when my song hits your ear.
Pain recognizes pain
And I’ve have my share of bandages.
My vibes from life heals the permanent damages.
Thoughts of a Songwriter,
Reaches farther beyond the beat,
Over the lyrics on the sheet,
Not only is it about the speech,
But more of what the message seeks.
True enough a theme is touched and a heart is rushed.
With the mind-throbbing picture disappearing
Through the ink of my pen and revealed through your lens,
You can’t hear me, but do you feel me?
I cherish my talent and where it could possibly sweep me.
My doubts and my worries are beneath me.
I love for brighter days and pray for more things to pave.
Call my life my number because its infinite.
Thoughts of a Songwriter,
My mentality drips it.
You’re the greatest cheater alive!
Aren't you ashamed in stealing our lives?
How could you be so bad in your words?
Copy our poems and pretend it like your swords.
You said it’s yours but you’re a foolish one!
No one believes you cause’ you’re a muggy one.
This poem is ours and can’t be so yours.
Don’t ever try to come in our open doors.
You messed us up like you’re staining clothes.
You were too vicious and comfy on your boats.
We told you to stop but you were so firm.
Is cheating a manner or your usual prim?
We wanted you to be out in our place…
You’re a fake poet and must get out of this place.
Hope you have a lesson that you learned.
To plagiarize poem is ridiculous and burn.
IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY - LXXXII
for Carlos Bousoño, the eminent Spanish critic, poet and professor
who maintained that if you don't like the "humorist",
you're not likely to find much to laugh at in/with his (sense of) "humour"
IF ever I had a country, a country where every TOM-Cat, Dirty-DICK and Royal HARRY wrote what his fellows called POESY
And if ever I were the only SON of a GUNny Sack-Bag incapable of pouting lines to an astronomically non-sensical degree
And as punishment thereof - sans appeal - if I were to be appointed by the Supreme Inter-Galactico-Cosmo-IL-logical Council of the Arbiters of Tyrannic Taste the one and only ARBITER and JURY
And should my fellow-poets ever so much as utter or let escape a squeak on, relating to or about what they cook-up as stew or porridge of
un-hermeneutical ETERNAL VERITIES which they print publish post (ne’er you mind: plagiarize) and/or pander to their pridefully painted images potpourri
I would first and foremost issue an EDICT - nay, even a DECREE - to CONFINE each and every one of my bumble-bee constantly buzzing comrade BARDS, purveyors and promotors of mutually unintelligible verse within their own ivory PENTHOUSES of phantasmagorical (a)musings
under pain of summary banishment - should they ever so much as "peine in poiein » - to the GREAT ATTRACTOR WALL of GALAXIES and so be it, I pray thee
And this, even if I were to be confined to my very own solitary dungeon and be condemned to listen to - against my will, day and night, for ever and ever - the ethereally soul-uplifting poutings of the Poetasters of Isphahan in their wordy giddy swirls of SUFI
And even if I never ever had no country where POETRY had need of mutually EGO-BOOSTING commentary
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, April 5, 2020