Best Replication Poems
To Adorn, adore Him Abba Father.
Be His replication.
Be who we are meant to be in Him.
In Him is the fullness of Himself.
He’s purpose us for His Glory.
We’re His light to shine.
So shine Beloved shine
To be like Him for we are, Amen
Allowed purposefully in Him
U
R
Loved royal purple heart, again...
Amen
3/20/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
When Dad is a Biology Major
By Elton Camp
I liked to give an answer complete
With specific details to be replete
Child’s, “What are girls made of?”
Brought information too far above
C, H, N, O and not too many more
The explanation proved to be a bore
Nitrogenous bases purine & pyrimidine
Are found in the DNA molecule I mean
Adenine, guanine, thymine, cytosine
With P and deoxyribose sugar are seen
In this wonderful helix they all lie
“Daughter, you can see it if you try.”
My answer was far too complex
About replication, gametes and sex
Since all she was really asking to hear
Was repeat of a nursery rhyme, I fear
A personality and character, parading a huge title
but in conformity to its credentials, his big battle.
Fine presentation and well crafted charisma to look particular
making a malnourished mind look healthy and muscular.
An attractive body with a borrowed shadow
sounds, confirmed false when peeping through his window.
His leaves are evergreen and fresh every hour
bearing eye catching fruits so attractive but sour.
To neighbours and men of caliber, he salutes
but on their reputations and names he pollutes.
Punishments of the deviants on the street is his call,
the replication of their deeds in his backyard is his fall.
Actions oppose expressions, only a few may know when
his outside, a beautiful castle but the inside, a dangerous den.
Vehemently tagging Victims
Impassively Impartial Illnesses Partake
Reveling in Recurrence and Replication
Unbarring any Understanding.....except Universal
Septum’s Of Organism’s Seeking Sinister Salvations
A VIRUS…….is no mortification
Rather simply
......an unforeseen deceptive disguise
Fervently Floating through our thick .....polluted skies~
We charge into battle,
Everyone side by side,
Prepared for inevitability,
Through the course of the ride,
We'll get cut, we'll get hit,
We'll get smacked around often,
While our critics and enemies,
Pray that we soften,
Our most secret of weapons,
They cannot detect,
They can't buy it or steal it,
Or, for themselves, resurrect,
It's knowing, for certain,
That we will prevail,
Knowing how to succeed,
Knowing how not to fail,
Our relevant outcome,
We cannot predict,
The time, place or nature,
The fate that we picked,
You choose a direction,
And follow it through,
Use all of the power,
That's inside of you,
If this becomes habit,
A worthy addiction,
Dreams turn into life,
From mere interesting fiction,
Some call it hot air,
Or simple lip service,
From unknown results,
That make you so nervous,
Precisely, my point,
If you can't control,
Anyone or anything,
Except for your soul,
The power of one,
When squared or when cubed,
Remains just the same,
One less than two,
But add to it slowly,
No multiplication,
Your singular voice,
Has mass replication,
So, bring on the battle,
There's strength in our lot,
Enough to defeat,
The fear that we fought,
The battle is over,
And we remain standing,
Our feet have absorbed,
The force of the landing,
Our win is subjective,
To what was at stake,
Our real intentions,
Or those we forsake,
Did we attempt,
Did we progress,
Was thinking and action,
Used under duress,
What more can we ask,
But response-ability,
Set goals and plans,
Build its facility,
Push ahead, gather,
Supplies for the journey,
Including first aid,
And a one-size-fits-all gurney,
So, here is my hand,
Please take it somehow,
My other I need,
To wipe sweat from my brow,
Because one thing is clear,
Despite smoke in the air,
We'll win going away,
Proceed if you dare.
(5/2/98)
Tangled thoughts, twisted pretzels,
Floating in the primal soup.
Rotated spiral polyhedrons,
Interlaced by simple threads.
Bound complex rules fuses brew.
Hearty crawling evolutionary stew.
Has anything been known to replicate?
Stack of stuff, millions, billions.
What right is given primordial seas
To have children, offspring, grandkids?
Hundreds of thousands of combinations,
Worked by chance, choice, millennia.
Replication, duplication, deception
Explain it again, I believe
What I have been taught.
Accepting these principles,
Otherwise, what shall I believe?
Genesis received no love as a kid,
Hated herself as much as everyone else did.
Never understood how happy children felt,
Never comprehend that she needed help.
So she lived life with many insecurities,
Fed them throughout her life, manifesting obese ignorance &
Unborn fatalities.
Poor Genesis.
Unintentionally subscribing to everything unpretty,
Failing at school & society,
Celebrating the self fulfilled prophecy.
Created illusions of grandiose propriety,
Just to conceal the pain that everyone else could see.
No one ever said success was easy
But clearly not a soul infiltrated to help her define her destiny
So she imposed her tragedies,
Exasperated her misery,
Spread it like angry poison ivy,
On every ambitious individual who exuded positive energy.
A victim turned bully, incarcerated within,
No determination or confidence,
just a replication of her beginning,
A cycle of reminders of what she could have been,
So hard, so cold, she sees no need to repent.
How many Genesis’ are there in every family?
In every industry?
Hating women & men & children alike,
Yelling consequences & smiling, unaffected by the outcries,
Simply because it represents their lives.
Karma & Affection, seeming to ignore her existence,
Painful, sleepless nights when the world is resting,
A sad series of events leading to an even more painful lesson.
Let not the world celebrate her demise,
Let us pray for her soul & her afterlife.
Someone somewhere loves you Genesis…
We usually pray for the victims of bullies and try to assist them. Often, the actual bullies have faced unbelievable pain and circumstances themselves. As a teacher, I have seen the pain in both groups. THIS is dedicated to the bullies...
A image whispers through my contemplations
I feel like I’ve awakened in a dream of the past
Emotions surround me, gracing me with prayers
Bidding me wisdom from this reflection elapsed
A representation of what once gave me joy
Selections of melodies gone now, but recalled
With this tender rendition of long-ago moments
Sweet echoes singing softly as I listen intently
A replication gently touches my inner affections
Reminding me that I’ve been blessed with memories
Some that will always appeal to my compassion
Some that encourage me to keep loving with passion
A vision of some moment that has passed from my mind
Valuable beauty filling my heart with inspiration and delight
Little memorials of all the things that have gone by me
Adventures in living that reassure and fill me with sensibility
A portrayal of living that enlivens my sense of reception
Waking within me that charming remembrance of elation
The way that if feels to know acceptance and assurance
Feelings that come back with a glimpse at this picture
A depiction of the moment when I was so alive with anticipation
Yearning for the heartfelt fervor that brightens the moments
Soothing the broken heart and heartening the discouraged
Comforting the one who hurts and encouraging the hopeless one
A personification of satisfaction from hope, faith and love
All that comes from knowing the grace and mercy of God above
Sent to reassure anyone who sees this impression of an earlier time
A moment that stirred up feelings which will always hold adoration for…
A memory caught in a photo
Imitation saturates behavior.
drowned in reactions, thinking we're unlike them
but it's been done before, unconscious of the war
some become like others down to the very core.
And sometimes ignorance, in all its bliss
will force us down the trail of an unwanted wish.
Though knowledge of own actions remain in safety
still shadows exist, outlining what "could be"
Eyes up ahead, never turning around
We're internally focused, 'til we hear that sound
that echo of hidden flaws, impossible to believe
yet there it is, a younger voice mimicking our deeds
The moment of realization passes the slowest
as dawns the question- did we fail the test?
An uncomfortable epiphany
I never wanted them to be like me.
Yet here they are, staring at my heart.
Trailing an arrow that never hit its mark.
Turning around is no longer an option.
Required to watch an ever growing reflection.
Behavior remains saturated by imitation
designed to impact a new generation
The hand that we played may soon be forgotten
A web of replication willingly caught in.
Derangement - bullets crackle
soldier of insanity
cuts beauteous innocence
gone is the embodiment - of
her illumination of hearts
replication not to be
keeping now
intense essence
forever to blossom
Realization came early in my life
Even allurements could not stop me to decide
Surrendering values in return of money, has no meaning
I resigned and resigned myself to walking alone
Gust of hopes brought spring to my life
Neighbours asked, “Has he gone mad?”
And my father said, “He chose freedom, instead”
Time – travelled ticking and came success after failures
It was not easy – living in a jungle as a loner
Over the years, learnt the skill with many cuts and scratches
Now, my friends who gave up – ask for light; replication starts
06.10.2016
Man, though he was made in God's image
Is not God, for the image cannot be the Origin.
An image is a replica of something or someone.
Valid Reason tells us it is not that someone
But a replica or an exact likeness of him.
A son may be the the replication of the father
But he is not the father, no matter how close the likeness.
Twins are two persons with the same image and appearance-
Look the same, may dress the same, but are not the same.
A likeness does not make one the being.
An image in the mirror is not you inside glass
But a reflection of you, looking back.
The image is a likeness that appears like you.... but is not you.
Therefore, as God said "Let us make man in Our image
And in Our likeness," Logic tell us God did not make Man
Another God, but made an image or likeness of Him.
If Man, an image, would have God's Being, He is then "God."
But Is he? Logic tells us God would then have said
"Let us make Man a God like us."
But the Truth is, God made Man, an image of Him
but not as God like Him.
Simple Logic.
Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~03.04.16
image- (noun) form; appearance; semblance: likeness
"We are all created in God's image." (Dictionary.com)
Someone get me a Catholic Priest.
I have a confession to make.
About how I doubted God-
By not believing in the magnificence of his creation.
ME!
I told me lies that I believed like the Bible.
Chanted my own crafted verses-
Within the darkest temples of my lost hollow mind.
I buried the skeleton of my soul in wandering waters of skepticism.
Now I suffocate for the truth like oxygen
Someone get me a doctor.
They say my anatomy is proof of life's perfection
But I've mutilated the molecular structure
of water molecules in my cerebrum with my dubious thinking.
If I am Adam's replication, then I will need an auscultation
For my heart beats out of fear of the things I can become.
So I set my feet wide on high grounds
And make the winds blow me.
Till I float with my thoughts to the place where destiny lives.
Someone get me a photographer.
Today we take pictures of the things we cannot see.
Faith is in the thin air like a sylphic palanquin.
Ready to take us heights till we reach the depths of our essence.
i look at memories
you see
what you recall as
a human
that remembers
vague themes
and bad
times
i'm trying to see
the sea
you see
the flaws
within
me
thyme and robust
potatoes
oval images
surrounding
the spin
of different visuals
made of
similar
DNA
within me
check the head
as i remain
said
gone
gone
gone
lick my single
mRNA
love is here
replication makes
me smile
Watch the rodents and regulars
Sifting through the spiritless so-so
Of their sake.
Rushing for a room
In the established B&B,
Avocados and aperitifs
Swelling their bellies and slowing their minds.
Always wary of all their wares,
Reapers of replication.
The competition of the committee
For no tribute, nor travesty, just toll.
Watch the stickmen and society
Parade through the pith paths
Of their poetry.
Dawdling for the day
In the extraordinary ordinary,
Tates and Tatt
Warming their bellies and fizzing their minds.
No wares or too many to care,
Makers of mavericks,
Challengers of the committee,
For just tribute, or travesty, no toll.
© 2016 Margo Cami [www.margocami.com]