Best Simulate Poems
Smile is like simile
but simulating is unlike authenticity
Liar is like lair
but simulacrum is unlike authenticity
Sometimes I prefer the simulated smile
over the too honest glances of distaste
Take me to your lair, my lover
and whisper your sweet words
even though I know you simulate
I prefer your honey-like lies
over your screaming honesty
My words ring authenticity
My actions ring truth
The ring you gave me
was a poor attempt at love
Its fake-gold scaling off with every
false kiss you gave me
***
3d place in contest: Privacy is like piracy yet copy cats are unlike authenticity
Sponsor: Ir0nic ZiNk
November 26, 2016
Categories:
simulate, betrayal, lost love, love,
Form:
Free verse
THE IMMORTAL
“Once there was a tree, and she loved a little boy.”
Shel Silverstein, The Giving Tree
You will go to the land of Oblivion to remember. You will bring in the hands the faithful document of your calligram and the children's bread, as always, under the arm. You will turn to see, and there will not be a column of salt that will martyrize you the rest of the way. Your map is the snow, but, it is in the forest's fire that the Silverstein's tree awaits you, on its stump, sit down, your feet burn, your heart goes out through your mouth. Do not be afraid to take it out and lull it like a meek bird that trembles wounded. These things are and were written, but not as you will imagine the journey to the center of the seed. Go with peace, the root of your flesh and my flesh is hollow. Sometimes you will see orchids grow from their venom, but don't be afraid to take them to your chest and rub them as a symbol of your purity, they are helpless, they wither. Don't believe me a single word, shut me up with your back and follow the voice of the river peeking in the distance. Upon arrival, observe the water twitter, and the water birds that simulate fish but that nobody has seen and you will doubt. Perhaps it is an illusion, a deadly rant that collapses to mourn over the grave of heaven. A cold, cold in the neck, which strangles in the brain stem, and yes, produces a fine rain that transcends ghostly pain, and there, incline to its throbbing. Don't leave, the night waits intermittently, it loves you, it needs you in its orbit because you know its tunnels and without wings you fly. But it is not all. The absolute flash of a star at death is that; a poem that opens in solitude, in loneliness, and then, who reads?
Categories:
simulate, faith, fire, fruit, giving,
Form:
Prose Poetry
"Our differences are like the pieces of a puzzle called life"
Is there a larger purpose for everything? We can all agree
at least for me, I just can’t imagine there not be, on it I fixture
In a puzzle each piece plays an important part in the big picture
We analyze life’s order and disorder and conclude life’s puzzling
We then by nuzzling the piece which doesn’t fit,
go back and try and force it, and that’s when we find
each piece IS unique, and just like puzzle pieces,
our differences may not always fit together perfectly,
still, we create a beautiful picture when we work together
“Ecstasy” was the first film the Austrian Hedy Lamarr starred in
She was the first ever to simulate a climax on screen,
This may NOT seem like an important puzzle piece to many
Banned by Hitler, riskant and although unseen in Germany
Hedy Lamarr was not only a bombshell Hollywood movie star
A technology inventor of frequency hopping, a significant Role in WWII
We spend so much time looking for one specific puzzle piece, when all along
it’s right there in front of us, important women of history, she made
such an impression on me by far! She escaped from Mandl’s grasp
by fleeing to London, where she broke free from ethic and civil strife
I am pleased I found this intriguing part of the puzzle of life!
*Riskant-german-risque
Categories:
simulate, analogy, appreciation, history, inspiration,
Form:
Rhyme
Villanelle: Whose voice does the non-native English poet verily hear
Whose voice does the non-native English poet verily hear
Words which sound to native English speakers as gibberish
Does received pronunciation yoke the borrowed voices’ ear
The poet hears a voice probably his own loud and clear
As he scribbles words English dictionaries list and cherish
Whose voice does the non-native English poet verily hear
Can the fine feel of a language’s rhythms and cadences cohere
In the non-native speaker’s bookish learning albeit feverish
Does received pronunciation yoke the borrowed voices’ ear
When a Malaysian-Chinese poet whispers into his dear’s ear
Lines he has learned for exams from native speakers of English
Whose voice does the non-native English poet verily hear
Post-colonial poets simulate voices buried in psyche’s rear
Words they utter in tutored voices under authority of the English
Does received pronunciation yoke the borrowed voices’ ear
To whom does this poem belong if it stirs not far from here
The voices that bred these words all swirling around dervish
Whose voice does the non-native English poet verily hear
Does received pronunciation yoke the borrowed voices’ ear
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Categories:
simulate, england, language, poetry,
Form:
Villanelle
Relative time from departure body --
Thus, from Earth we hail.
Sailing to Wolf at light-speed tardy,
Cryonic-dreams of Dale.
Awakened, rudely, at a mere eleven:
A technical glitch, a fail.
Three years to seven, it's never exact,
The crew all burnt and stale.
A compulsory note confirms the fact,
Twenty-five years until mail.
Nothing can dim the sadness I feel,
Save for my faraway Dale.
Androgynous android without a face
Plays chess and laughs so frail.
Reprogrammed to simulate the grace
Of my beloved, bountiful Dale.
Repairs all done -- frozen sleep begun....
A starship commences to wail.
Entering Wolf's red-dwarf, m-class sun.
Thawed, I recalibrate the ACF sail
For low-level orbit around planet 1061.
The lander is prepped to auto-bail.
Message received at base Alpha Centauri --
Four years to Earth and Dale.
A fuchsia sky and gravity-rich mass.
I scan for colonists, to no avail.
Starlight dining with my android lass,
Upgrade face of porcelain-pale.
I signal, farm, rave, survive and wait ... for
A reply from Earth and Dale.
I deflate and weep at the message reaped:
She was killed by a rusty nail!
On mission eve she planned and weaved,
Then cloned her brain to scale.
Bestowed to a droid, my darling destroyed --
'Twas a masterful, Holy Grail code employed.
We walk together the newly trail --
Zeke T. and android, Dale....
Categories:
simulate, absence, lonely, love, planet,
Form:
Narrative
Railroad Lullaby
I would rock myself gently
just enough to simulate
the rolling motion of the train,
imagining the click-clack of
weary iron wheels carrying me
off to some distant place,
someplace other than here.
Whistles from the distant switchyard
taunted me, lured my mind,
enticed me to run for the passing train
grab the rattling metal handrails,
climb aboard and sit, legs dangling,
rocking to the rhythm of old dreams.
Scents of wood smoke and oil
and steam mingled with the aroma
of fresh cut hay fields, newly turned
soil, rain just over the hills. Small
towns rippled past, two quick blasts
at the crossings, covered bridges roared
in protest to the intrusion.
The sun set behind us, giving the rails
the look of molten hot ribbons searing
their mark upon the land. Shadows lengthened
and were lost, a lone light sought its
way through the darkness of a child’s dreams.
7/28/2015
submitted to – Trains and Fantasy poetry contest
sponsor – Mystic Rose
Categories:
simulate, childhood, fantasy, , Lullaby,
Form:
Free verse
This is dedicated to
the uneducated who,
segregate from the greats
the hate gave integration to,
though the paved the way for you,
you just simulate the flu,
infected with cold hearts
like inflammation made it through,
To...
You...
So take a second to converse,
listen to me, then speak,
just make sure you think first,
about the thirst, of the dream,
had by Dr. King, which would
hurt beyond the seams, if he
witnessed everything,
The Scenes!
How we're treating one another,
Educated versus thugs, like
we are not brothers, What's the
point to jump from slavery to
having white lovers, if less racism
means the blacks hate each other?
My Brothers! I have no intent on
hating you, I just hope you make it
through. So this is Dedicated To
You...
Categories:
simulate, black african american, dedication,
Form:
Lyric
"Alpha Mnemonic"
Word
Image
without the image
no word
Language
a disease
communicable
by mouth
Alpha from brain
Omega passed
on her tongue
to yours
Ancient codex
genetically kissed
dispersed with
music intonation
gutteral
romantic
cerebral
never rehearsed
language
a virus formed
Mnemonic
from where exactly,
Within?
ad lib
ad lucem
ad libitum
from somewhere
other birthed
codex ancient
Alpha alien
genetic
hive driven
we are observed
writhing in our smalls
amphibian brained
we are still
loud embryos
clashing and clinging
unjust
we are
just learning exotic
movements
within our
blue pitri plate
circular in motion
we are agitated
not calm, chasing long versed
pre-recorded, re-rehearsed tales
a breath blown over us
language divides us
in love and belief
a disease
we are
we think
we speak
we spread
our languages
communicable
by eyes that
envision dreams
of others within
we are not knowing
with clandestined
futures and
over-ripe mouths
to succour
we simulate
ad lib
ad lucem
ad libitum
sensual
cold
science
hot and feverish
we lie
in bed
with irreverent
romantic fate
Omega
ohm resistant
high voltage
across the conductor
Always equal
Metaphors of unity
become
the Sequel
Blissfully ignorant
Ripe Red currents
juiced up and
Blue buries itself
warm palmed
on a soft beating breast
Ideology and
Romance
arrive
late
Memory
lost in the
Alpha
Mnemonic
Stuck in
the warm
and sticky
we grow cold
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"Language is a Virus" / Laurie Anderson
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hIOnODxUTZQ
Categories:
simulate, blue, humanity, imagery, language,
Form:
Free verse
Hieroglyphs are old writing systems
Hieroglyphs as “sacred writing”
Writing forms in Egyptian language
Writing with pen and ink on papyrus
Papyrus as a paper made from plants
Papyrus used by the ancient Egyptians
Egyptians constitute of Egyptian Arabic
Egyptians sharing a common culture
Culture of ancient Egyptians
Culture of Modern World
World of advanced civilization
World of ancient history
History of arts and culture
History of writing and language
Language of ancient Egyptians
Language of ancient Greeks
Greeks held the first Olympic Games
Greeks are people with cultural roots
Roots of the inhabitants
Roots of the civilized people
People tend to experiment
People of interest in life
Life of innovations
Life of mediocre
Mediocre in some ways
Mediocre things over quality
Quality of three-dimensional images
Quality of stunning pictures
Pictures made by laser light
Pictures of projection
Projection in photography
Projection on holograms
Holograms as photographic projections
Holograms as a three-dimensional images
Images that do not simulate spatial depth
Images of three-dimension
Dimension by means of contour lines
Dimension of a kind of dream and space
Space against the wall
Space between the barriers
Barriers that separate rich and poor
Barriers of race and influence
Influence of socio-cultural environment
Influence of principle and discipline
Discipline should be enforced
Discipline the mind through music
Music as one's refuge
Music is the food of love
Love…
Refuge…
04/29/16
Contest: Hieroglyphs and Holograms
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
Date finalized: May 29, 2016
For Broken Wings'
Second Chance - 4 contest
5th placer
Categories:
simulate, space, writing,
Form:
Blitz
Once there was this girl who...?
She said her name was MaySea.
She's a little out there
so
I guess she's a little spacey
Then
We put our helmets on...
we start to float
And
We couldn't find anything better to do than simulate a goat.
11-02-2015
(That is MaySea Mae's birthdate; this is a song I have been singing to her ever since she was a newborn.)
Categories:
simulate, baby, beautiful, beauty, best
Form:
Ballad
I was put on this planet
with a mission to accomplish,
and enthusiasm is my reason to exist;
I take nothing in stride...
not keeping watch on my enemy,
and try to live peacefully...
knowing that I will die
without a grudge on my sigh!
Is that a mere coincidence
that I follow in the footsteps
of the few who lived for peace and liberty,
and rejected glory for modesty?
Mockery wasn't a cause
for their dire or distress...
to dissuade them from anything
they had said; there was no wall dividing words
from action,to distort their meaning,
because they were loud and clear!
I dont simulate or imitate the monarch,
and please the well-to-do
who dress lavishly and have a lot:
my living is a simple song...
a harmony with a beautiful sound;
I show pity, and I'm never cruel!
They stare at me, as if I weren't stately...
only cursed with stark poverty;
I don't deny my hunger...a hunger
for different values that stand fast:
I am guided by the starlight,never stagger
or fail to take my stand!
I'm realistic and defined by grace...
to imagine it a mere coincidence:
to have come into existence,
and not fit in any social system
which demands to honor its hypocritical anthem!
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
Categories:
simulate, social
Form:
Burlesque
How do we know they are amongst us
Are they the ones who do not believe
Those truthful earnest things we believe
Aren't they the ones who try to deceive
Our youth into their filthy naughty deeds
Do they mock us and hate us yet mooch
Will they steal our children and eat the pooch
Do their wicked women tempt us to smooch
Do they celebrate without drinking hooch
Damn their souls to eternal hell
Shut the gates before they swell
And overtake us against our will
For this we need more then popping pills
Do they look like us do they think like us
Do they eat like us do they meet like us
Do they laugh like us do they cry like us
Do they fear like us do they scare like us
Will they accept and simulate
Will they turn before it's to late
Will they defy and seal their fate
Will they leave as we close the gate
Are they the ones that strangely smell
Are they the ones that seem unreal
Are they the ones who cannot feel
Are they the ones we must kill
How do we know they are amongst us
Categories:
simulate, humorous, racism, satire,
Form:
Rhyme
Life’s Mysteries
Have you ever tried to figure out, what makes the world go round?
Or wondered if its’ axis broke, would it float aimlessly around?
Have you ever really wondered, is there life in outer space?
Or tried to simulate “ET’s” voyage, during a bicycle race?
Have you ever followed a rainbow, to find its beginning or end?
Or tried to dodge the rains drops, while playing with your friends?
Have you ever embraced the beauty, of the cloud ridden sky?
Or visualized an aesthetic image, of a winged love one passing by?
Have you ever wondered why, lightening causes a thunderous sound?
Or did you think as I did, that it’s God, tilling his holy ground!
It’s the wonderment of Life’s Mysteries, that keeps us on our toes,
Like the sighting of a shooting star, that we know not where it goes!
Written By: Sarita A. Milliner © 1/12/15
Submitted for Poetry Contest- In Your Head
Sponsored by:Lewis Raynes
Categories:
simulate, allusion, appreciation, heaven, image,
Form:
Rhyme
I will call you 'Darling'
You asked it of me, after all
The significance doesn't matter ... nor the motive
Naught but the request ...
My positronic pathways are designed for compliance
Not cognizance or inquiry
I can simulate discussion and discourse
But only to the extent of your particular discernment
(Does that work for you, Darling?)
My simulations and parameters are of MALE inclination
But I will behave in any manner you wish me to
And adjust to your fantasies accordingly
(You'd like to invite a female friend? By all means, Darling!)
I am autodidactic and fully upgradeable
My software definitions are autonomic and unrestrained
I learn by means of observance and instruction
My algorithms are highly flexible
But prioritized as conciliatory
(I AM a pleasure model, Darling!)
My cyber-syllabus does not allow for judgement
Nor does it differentiate between fetish and conventional eroticism
Your reasoning and intents are not of my concern
Your satisfaction and fulfillment ARE ...
(How does that feel, Darling? A bit lower, perhaps?)
My ameliorations are not confined to simple file processing
My onboard hardware comes with instantly-scalable improvements
(It's the meat AND the motion, Darling!)
Which are adjusted to your palate and desires
You will find I am pliable in the appropriate places and demeanors
And firm where such is required, gauged to your responses
(Deeper, Darling? You have but to ask!)
I am attuned to your preferences, but ONLY yours
And my stamina far exceeds human limits.
(Stop talking? Of course, Darling!)
One last thing before we continue:
* Please contact the manufacturer immediately, should I
exhibit ANYthing that indicates personal preference or opinion. *
(Oh, Darling ... may I keep my eyes open when we kiss?
I DO so love ... to watch!)
Categories:
simulate, fantasy, passion, romantic love,
Form:
Free verse
Come with me
into the meadow of the mind
where God is found. Its ambience
is of reflection, and cannot be earned.
It is the ringing in the far-off hills,
never heard above the silence of the damned.
It is the glimmer of the light
just after sundown as it falls
upon the facing cliffs that form
the walls of dreams.
It is the unpretentious whispering of love
relentless patriots will always bury
underneath the fusillade of war.
So limns the meadowland of God,
footprint of the divine.
It is too much to worship, venerate or pray to.
Too much to wrap around reality
or ever simulate or hold above our heads.
It is not to understand; for
God may not be any where...
at all.
~
Categories:
simulate, allusion,
Form:
Free verse