Best Resemblances Poems
Am I the one you dream of,
Am I the one you prayed silently for with closed eyes at your bed side,
Am I the one you magnificently created of her figment,
Deeply rooted and knotted in that dark part of your past.
Do you think you can create, recreate those vivid but vague images of her carbon
copy through me?
Am I the one you want to smile like her,
Caress, embrace and erase your deviant discrepancy.
Have you visualized the slaving, the hard work she put in?
It seems I am the one you want to prolong the epidemic of your rage
Am I the one you really care for
Or am I just a coaster to absorb that water from your glass
Am I the one you pictured walking towards you on that cool Sunday evening
In that small chapel on the side of that Hill.
Am I the one you will share and tell stories about,
The one who will inspire you to become greater than you.
Will I be the one you run to when all hell breaks lose?
Am I the one you place above all other.
Will I be the one to conceive and bear seed just to please you?
Seeds that resemblances you and in essences are you
Will I ever be that one?
The one you have morphed within the cavity of your brain.
Sometimes It seems
like I can still feel
the rhytm of your heartbeat
Going up and down
together with mine
In its meek and deep
beat so sweet
I melt in
As does honey
in my cup of tea.
So I blame them honey bees
for my weakened, falling knees
for wanting to kiss
you while the night
shades the day
in its repeating way
out of our resemblances.
And in my silence
I pray to the trees
nurturing the flowers
for them needy bees
to let me feed on
the feel of your heartbeat.
Giving up,
we lose ourselves
in soft denials,
tally up bone-tinted
Kodaks – recall
brief glints of eye,
succinct resemblances
of generations.
Listlessly,
we wait
death’s domination—
cool brushes
of wind,
flutterings
of waxen wings
& last breaths,
dusky, distant
as the webbed
membranes
of memories.
the poet sheds one tear
on a hundred sentences
empty papers, unwritten years
locked exits, locked entrances
the night brings her fears
loneliness, ugly resemblances
so the poet goes to sleep
and she dreams of scenes
scenes that never existed
You can hear her at night
Her cries they horrify
They cut through the silence
And silent after the sunrise
I can feel her pain
it's a torment to the sane
it's a lover to darkness
and an enemy to pureness
The poet writes her masterpiece
The perfection of pain and grieve
The beauty of a feeling unleashed
Weeps from the deception of beliefs
A relief comes as robbed from a thief
The poet feels high as she writes
But the poem refuses to end
three days and nights and fright
But relief wont come again
The poet spent a lifetime
She found no happy endings
Sought a completed rime
And found nothing but death in it
Vivid sketches,
a parade
of resemblances,
canvas afloat
before my eyes:
expressionist
impressionist
abstractions
locked forever
in time:
the familiar,
the muddled or
befuddled
inventive
imaginings
before me file,
to stay awhile
and truncate my day:
I contemplate
and marvel
the many things
to me they say
Maverick Free verse
My grandmother’s velvet covered album
was not coveted by any of my siblings.
I pretended not to care so as not spark their interest,
but I was happy when it was scorned by others.
It is now in my possession and proudly
shown on my coffee table. Unlabeled
photos from the 1800’s fill it.
I can only guess who might be whom.
I try to find resemblances to my siblings, or myself
and make up stories to fit the characters.
The real stories of their lives are lost to the past.
How sad that they did not have the cameras and
videos of the modern age, to record they’re stories.
My pictures are memories tucked into a silver frame
or in between some pages glued as part of the past.
My daddy sitting proud and tall, Mama’s hand upon his arm
Driving his young and lively team.
I wrote their names on the back for posterity.
Here is one of their first cars, just see my mama’s smile.
As I’ve heard tell it was the one that broke down every mile
As the many babies came along, they added them one by one
into the family portrait, seven kids all told.
Through marriages and grand-kids, everyone is shown with pride.
Now with my labeled names and other bits of information they will
be real to the following generations.
That Kodak recorded lifetimes, before it up and died.
They’d be surprised if they could see the pictures of today.
We take them now with digital and email them away to all..
I’ve gathered old and new alike, to place upon my screen.
In color or in black and white, my family’s story
shall be saved for all who care..
For John's Maverick Free contest won no. 4 place
Today I came across your picture, I almost shed a tear.
I faced the mirror, dug for resemblances of your features in my mixture.
There is no doubt you are my father
and I don't want to alter the design of our feather.
I am your son, from your loins I was made in your way.
Many clashes under the sun, but we never joined the fray.
As I slept, we laid adjoined, you held your baby every day.
But Time held the other side of the coin; from your hugs, I drifted away.
I know we not as close, and we barely express our love when we feel the urge to convey.
But you are my father, you are my mentor, every night, for me, you pray.
I imagine the good times life stole from us when I look into your tired eyes.
You still hold that beautiful smile, when you lift your head to the skies.
Age has caught up with you and you always repeat your life stories to me.
I show little interest because I am a slave to this pernicious phone and PC.
But I want to hear more, and you ask for me to visit often.
I feel bitter I barely show up. But your stories will not be forgotten.
I miss seeing you tear with joy when I come visit.
We shake hands because we forgot a hug and a kiss is our limit.
I pray to hug you longer before the breath of life leaves one of us.
With your presence, affection and wisdom my soul needs to be encompassed.
I do not hate you, I am not vexed with you, that is a plan I never wrought.
I feel that is what I manifest and that guilt left in me a vacant slot.
I just want to take this moment to reveal my inner thought.
I love you, I need you, and Father, I miss you A LOT.
Each needle on the pine quivers
happily in the mysterious wind.
Clouds flutter across the great blue
sky with illusionary resemblances.
Birds chirp, "Come outside and sit awhile.
Spring is finally here!"
Bugs buzz through the sun-warmed
grass with each step.
Rabbits hop lazily to and fro with
their ears up and their eyes bright.
Brilliantly colored kites accumulate in
the voracious sky.
And the birds continue to sing,
"Spring is finally here."
the poet sheds one tear
on a hundred sentences
empty papers, unwritten years
locked exits, locked entrances
the night brings her fears
loneliness, ugly resemblances
so the poet goes to sleep
and she dreams of scenes
scenes that never existed
You can hear her at night
Her cries they horrify
They cut through the silence
And silent after the sunrise
I can feel her pain
it's a torment to the sane
it's a lover to darkness
and an enemy to pureness
The poet writes her masterpiece
The perfection of pain and grieve
The beauty of a feeling unleashed
Weeps from the deception of beliefs
A relief comes as robbed from a thief
The poet feels high as she writes
But the poem refuses to end
three days and nights and fright
But relief wont come again
The poet spent a lifetime
She found no happy endings
Sought a completed rime
And found nothing but death in it
the poet sheds one tear
on a hundred sentences
empty papers, unwritten years
locked exits, locked entrances
the night brings her fears
loneliness, ugly resemblances
so the poet goes to sleep
and she dreams of scenes
scenes that never existed
You can hear her at night
Her cries they horrify
They cut through the silence
And silent after the sunrise
I can feel her pain
it's a torment to the sane
it's a lover to darkness
and an enemy to pureness
The poet writes her masterpiece
The perfection of pain and grieve
The beauty of a feeling unleashed
Weeps from the deception of beliefs
A relief comes as robbed from a thief
The poet feels high as she writes
But the poem refuses to end
three days and nights and fright
But relief wont come again
The poet spent a lifetime
She found no happy endings
Sought a completed rime
And found nothing but death in it
the poet sheds one tear
on a hundred sentences
empty papers, unwritten years
locked exits, locked entrances
the night brings her fears
loneliness, ugly resemblances
so the poet goes to sleep
and she dreams of scenes
scenes that never existed
You can hear her at night
Her cries they horrify
They cut through the silence
And silent after the sunrise
I can feel her pain
it's a torment to the sane
it's a lover to darkness
and an enemy to pureness
The poet writes her masterpiece
The perfection of pain and grieve
The beauty of a feeling unleashed
Weeps from the deception of beliefs
A relief comes as robbed from a thief
The poet feels high as she writes
But the poem refuses to end
three days and nights and fright
But relief wont come again
The poet spent a lifetime
She found no happy endings
Sought a completed rime
And found nothing but death in it
ONLY YOU
Poet: muhammad nawaz
I Never Want Any Fame
Only You Are My Aim
The Flowers, Butterflies And Whispering Birds
Which You See Often In My Words
And All The Beauties In My Sentences
Are Just The Resemblances
These All Are No Doubt True
But Only For You
Never Think That Without You I Am Complete
You Are My Breath And Heart Beat
Wax Is Not A Candle Without Flame
So Please Never Ever Think It A Game
Without You ,My Feelings Don't Have Any Name
Only You Are My Aim
You Live In The Lines Of My Palm
Sometimes In Anxiety And Sometimes Calm
Sometimes Deaf And Sometimes Smashing
But Your Every State Has Its Own Charm
Sometimes I Go To Shore's Glittering Sands
I Take Some Of It In My Hands
It Seems That Sun Is Showering In Every Grain
They Reflect The Light Like Twinkling Rain
But As Soon As Sun Sets In Mysterious Bank
All The Grains Become Wholly Blank
Sometimes I Sit Near Lake In Night
The Moon In Water Looks So Bright
It Seems That It Will Live There Forever
But The Eyes Don't Know How Much Time Is Clever
As Soon As Day Comes And Night Is Faded
The Lake Becomes Blue And White Shaded
The Turn Of Time Change All The Affair
The Moon And Stars Are No Longer There
I Know My Dear ,Sun, Moon And YOU Are The Same
But It Is Against Love To Put Any Blame
Time And Moments Play Their Own Game
But You Was, You Are And You Will Be My Aim
the poet sheds one tear
on a hundred sentences
empty papers, unwritten years
locked exits, locked entrances
the night brings her fears
loneliness, ugly resemblances
so the poet goes to sleep
and she dreams of scenes
scenes that never existed
You can hear her at night
Her cries they horrify
They cut through the silence
And silent after the sunrise
I can feel her pain
it's a torment to the sane
it's a lover to darkness
and an enemy to pureness
The poet writes her masterpiece
The perfection of pain and grieve
The beauty of a feeling unleashed
Weeps from the deception of beliefs
A relief comes as robbed from a thief
The poet feels high as she writes
But the poem refuses to end
three days and nights and fright
But relief wont come again
The poet spent a lifetime
She found no happy endings
Sought a completed rime
And found nothing but death in it
the poet sheds one tear
on a hundred sentences
empty papers, unwritten years
locked exits, locked entrances
the night brings her fears
loneliness, ugly resemblances
so the poet goes to sleep
and she dreams of scenes
scenes that never existed
You can hear her at night
Her cries they horrify
They cut through the silence
And silent after the sunrise
I can feel her pain
it's a torment to the sane
it's a lover to darkness
and an enemy to pureness
The poet writes her masterpiece
The perfection of pain and grieve
The beauty of a feeling unleashed
Weeps from the deception of beliefs
A relief comes as robbed from a thief
The poet feels high as she writes
But the poem refuses to end
three days and nights and fright
But relief wont come again
The poet spent a lifetime
She found no happy endings
Sought a completed rime
And found nothing but death in it
the poet sheds one tear
on a hundred sentences
empty papers, unwritten years
locked exits, locked entrances
the night brings her fears
loneliness, ugly resemblances
so the poet goes to sleep
and she dreams of scenes
scenes that never existed
You can hear her at night
Her cries they horrify
They cut through the silence
And silent after the sunrise
I can feel her pain
it's a torment to the sane
it's a lover to darkness
and an enemy to pureness
The poet writes her masterpiece
The perfection of pain and grieve
The beauty of a feeling unleashed
Weeps from the deception of beliefs
A relief comes as robbed from a thief
The poet feels high as she writes
But the poem refuses to end
three days and nights and fright
But relief wont come again
The poet spent a lifetime
She found no happy endings
Sought a completed rime
And found nothing but death in it