Best Substituted Poems


Premium Member Hell's Hospitality

The sun cries for us, its heat fades away
snowflakes sprinkle round its orbit, yet go unmelted
it feels like evening, but its yet noon
time never changes its pace but now runs from a rifle
daylight sadly pretends, just to soften night's mockery.

Blood has substituted the rains
death has defined our borders
humanity is rendered homeless
and politics, given the borrowed authority of a landlord.
Life is cheaper than wine
tribal dominance exhibited in a show glass
for love to become an expired product.

Unity is deprived of its oxygen
from a gang of beasts, spare headed by religion.
Genocide celebrated, killers protected
understanding and cooperation, required from the affected
silence and denial, demanded from the afflicted
marginalization defended and grievances rejected.

The edge of the cutlass strikes harder than racism
Indigenes in their own homes hit worse than xenophobia
hope is lost, drowned in the sea of Impunity
faith is locked up in a cage underneath evil's valley
decades of cries to the heavens
the tears flow down to meet more affliction.

The sun rises, but presents in dark red
setting hours later to the notice of no one
a people bounded on falsehood
a large home of smaller fenced habitations
as everyone needs protection from everyone
and where space becomes too small for the stars;
but when distinguished into different galaxies,
it beams brighter to be a better decoration.
An unbearable course too small for the river to flow
makes nature justify its split into tributaries.
Enemies can no longer be in one home, 
so live and let's leave, or leave and let's live
is the only policy left for us all
and the survival anthem for this beautiful garden
no more suitable for community germination.
Categories: substituted, africa, anger, corruption, culture,
Form: Prose Poetry

Poetry In An Urdu Nutshell

Garage       
stacked high
scribbled stenos of
an automatic act
of little understanding or thought-------------
{tuhituhi}

visceral finality       
zero return
zero reward
and then there's
a learning disability hindering the reading-------------
{panui}

writing       
is taking a dump, 
except after wiping, I tend to take a peek
this creative act ill affords a 2nd glance
a good day and bet the writing stinks... boring
jail or hospital equals readers galore 
"TELL ME MORE!"
could correlate with occupancy rates
what a sorry excuse of a poet I am 
damn if that ain't sayin' much.-----------
{paru}

~editor's note: Poetry Soup would not let the beautiful Urdu script be seen, so I substituted Maori~ :(
Categories: substituted, poems, poetry, poets, self,
Form: Nazm

Hiv Positive

HIV Positive

I am HIV positive that I know,
But I will exercise my civic right,
As my blood continues to flow,
For my views to be heard I will fight.

Known to have been wayward and careless,
That does not mean I cannot be benevolent,
Which had made me to be fearless,
This malady has made me to be malevolent.

I Love playing poker with my dames,
After basking in the euphoria of many liquors,
which has actually earn me my fame,
Soon,I will varnish like the gas vapor.

But,the doctor told me I`m negative,
My blood was mistakenly substituted for,
Ha!this news serve as a purgative.
Categories: substituted, health, me, me,
Form: Burlesque

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


After the Slap

Everybody’s seen it
And discussed it to no end,
Wondering what repercussions
It may yet portend.

But to have a welcome chuckle,
Go check out James Corden’s song.
If will guarantee a grin and likely,
You will sing along.

For the writer took the Bruno tune,
Which most of us now know,
And just substituted Jada,
Making it so apropos.

How it blows my mind when talent
Takes an item in the news
And creates a little magic,
Well-deserving of our views.
Categories: substituted, appreciation,
Form: Rhyme

Obligated Order

Pull on the rope keep climbing
Apologies and compensation
are in order for the disorder
to the labeled minority 
brothers mothers and daughters
caused by the distorters
corrupted system creates limitations
of your elegance therefore 
frustration substituted freedom
blinded by the fact the opponents
were careless of the situations
of supressions to live on this land
hang on free from the sinking sand
created to drown us in our own bloods
Such deception and tragedy
Calls for the Correction from his majesty
deprivation of education
ignorance caused devastation
Lord help us to forgive so
we can all beg for his Forgiveness
Categories: substituted, faith, forgiveness, life, loss,
Form:

Mathematical Love

I decide not to worry about the parallelness
Of the tangents to the circles of our life story
The equation of the curve of my initial decision
Of you being my number tan45 was differentiated
As the union of your sets and conditions of your answers
Of your reply did not intersect with the tangent of the circle of my love
I integrated my mind and heart
So as to eliminate your love
But eliminating substituted  the simultaneous equation involving you and I
Using completing two squares in solving the quadratic equation 
Involving you was impossible
The almighty formula came into sight
When you factorized the algebra of you mind and heart
Making the line of your evergreen heart
Intersect perpendicularly at the center 
Of the diameter of my life journey
You have rotated my life 180degrees clockwise
© Ntim Evans  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: substituted, math,
Form: Free verse


Premium Member An Ode To the Scavenger

(1)
Strophe
Slowly and slowly fly the mighty feathers:
the uncanny wrath bearer, the poacher's prey,
the bald bizzare stigmatic cryptic creature, the ecology's majestic role player;
the curtain raiser of ecosystem's  air purifier.

Alas! Your iconographic role is omitted,
you, the saviour of the mortal race
from the contagious diseases.
Astounded! How you uncontaminated dear environment.
Your poaching has taken away
the soul of the balanced ecosystem;
crucial is saviour friend's presence, on the verge of extinction plight might have horrid ripple effect!

(2)
Antistrophe
Irony! The friend's void can't be substituted by mere replicas of sustainable development;
the diminishing existence will
drastically affect the local food webs!
How alluring to have a glimpse
of the hunch and tuck of the bird's head in the cold,
flapping and fluttering the wings,
stretching the neck in the heat!
You, remain aloft for hours,
soars gracefully on long broad wings;
with dazzling sharp eyes
from the highlands to pick the carrion!

(3)
Epode
Your iconographic presence is being honoured by the myths, legends, fables of civilizations from ages.
High time to contemplate, to introspect,
to jump into the ecosystem's integral bandwagon:
as pivotal to rescue and redeem the bird's friendly endangered existence!

All Rights Reserved © Silpika Kalita
Categories: substituted, absence, animal, appreciation, beautiful,
Form: Ode

Years of Hurt

Whilst the majority of domestic violence perpetrators are men I am fully aware that men are sometimes victims as well, therefore this poem is written in such a way that 'he' and 'his' can be substituted with 'she' and 'her', and 'girls' with 'boys.'

Years of Hurt

Oh God, did England win? That means that he
is coming home. I've done the washing up
and cooked him steak and crinkle chips for tea
and put his tinnies and his football cup
beside his chair and switched the telly on
All done. I wait. It could go either way
Of late it's gone a little bit like this
He'll come in in a 'you're alright mate' way
insisting on a bear hug and a kiss
and then the beer kicks in - his tea is cold
his boss is mean to him, his car is ****
and I'm the Germans, oh and I am old
I told the girls at work he didn't hit
me, lied about the bruise beneath my shirt
Don't talk to me of Lions. Years of hurt.

© Gail Foster 7th July 2018
Categories: substituted, abuse, anger, fear, football,
Form: Iambic Pentameter

Premium Member Once I Was a Prince - Part Three

Part Three

  ...swishing away with your sunshrivelled burgundy knotty arms with broad disdainful harvesting sweeps the cobras come out to water in the sweltering heat by the thatched fly-buzzed hole

your low under-the-breath warning tones a reminder of the will of your self-inflicted charge
you never ate until i gorged myself
              like the dutiful wife given with a dowry
watching me all the time through the shield of the wisp of cloud of cheroot smoke in your sentinel corner against the far wall your eyes glinting fearing that i might take exception and even before my plate was half-empty you had already darted across the kitchen floor to bring me more fried brinjals mashed greens fried and sliced plantain the steaming rice lying bare by its metal cover hanging on the lip of the open pot-mouth in a clear aluminium pot by my side

now they say you are gone for some plotted and took your life in haste
                    even before you had time to ensure an heir
others say you were alone dismayed abandoned by your own
           prey to enchanters coveting
the plot of land the house derelict forsaken by your absence
       they say some one else caretakes it for himself
others no a forbidden son of your husband’s has raked it for himself

alas would you have known how landless nationless stateless i’d be
this dot of ancestral land clinging-clanging in memory

did you know then you might never see me again
     nor probably ever hear of me
or if you had how might you have taken it all

did you believe the tales true and false they told
       or only what you wanted to hear
of your precious prince you once served in silence and

               who had gone to slave in other lands

Notes

eevaa peerankal muuvaa marunthu is a take on another well-known Tamil proverb: eevaa makkal muuvaa marunthu meaning “children who obey even before the order is given are a God-send”. Here, in lieu of children, the word “grandparents” is substituted

chembu: a small usually copper vessel shaped like a rounded vase with a tapering neck and open mouth, used for holding drinking water or milk

kuul: thick holdall gruel which may also be highly spiced

chemman: red soil

Vaithi: ayurvedic doctor, practising the traditional Indian homeopathic medicine

© T.Wignesan 1997 - Paris May 7, 1997 (from the Sequence/Collection: "Words for a Lost Sub-Continent")
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: substituted, family, me, water, may,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Bouncing Baby Song Nursery Rhyme Song

Bouncing on my grandma's knee.
A pirate on a boat at sea.
A monkey swinging from a tree.
Laughing with grandma and me.

(Chorus)
Up and down
Round and round
Riding on a
Merry go round

Bouncing on my grandma's knee.
Buzzing like a busy bee.
Sweeter than the sweetest pea.
Grandpa's waiting next for me.

(chorus)
Up and down
Round and round
Riding on a 
Merry go round

 3/27/2023
note: any name can be substituted 
           for grandma and grandpa
Categories: substituted, baby, song,
Form: Lyric

The Fruit Salad

Sceptical satsumas with suspicious rumours of fruit bowl disclaimers

A mention of cucumber and tomato being part of the starter,
leaving melon and grape displeased and irate

A discussion re:pips reaches a conclusion, they're not welcome in this fruit salad 
inclusion 

Away with tradition and starting a drama forgetting apple, ignoring banana
substituted with kiwi replace with mango and guava

Squeezed lemon precautions of epic pear portions

No brown to be seem under lashing of cream

'This is not just any fruit salad this is a Marks and Spencers fruit salad':-)


    ....  a satirical look at society and 
predudice using fruit as the subject.. light hearted x
Categories: substituted, people, social, fruit,
Form: Free verse

Industrial-Revolution

During the United States’ industrial revolution,
Eli Whitney invented interchangeable parts;
Identical components that could be substituted one for another.

This creation was made for machine— 
weapons
cars
and other mechanical mysteries. 
This isn't the case today.

Hips are interchangeable. 
Legs are interchangeable.
Hands and fingers are interchangeable.
Hearts are interchangeable.
Now, not only with man, 
but also with machine.

I can’t imagine it will be long before
software updates are reprogramming us,
instead of the devices we hold in our hands.
That we electrocute when wet,
and overheat when used for a long duration of time.
That we can recharge by cord
and turn on and off with the simple click of a button.

A small advancement, interchangeable parts were,
yet they contributed to further blurring the lines
between man and machine.
Categories: substituted, history, humanity, technology,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member My Memories

There’s a sound and smell that brings back
memories of the long ago,
of those short hours between the work and bed.
The family would gather
in the front room for awhile.
We were relaxed, contented and well fed.
Sometimes we’d play card games or Mom
would read continued story to us all.
In summer evenings we could stay 
outside for hide and seek,
but the dark hours started early in the fall.
In those early days of no TV,  
and no electric wonders
when oil lamps substituted for the sun,
it took a lot of  patience
and it took a lot of love
and understanding of each other to have fun.
Then there were the special evenings 
when Daddy would get out
the heavy iron skillet to pop corn.
I would hear those kernels popping and 
inhale the buttery smell
and just be happy that I had been born.
He would shake the skillet back and forth
on Mama’s kitchen stove
then empty it and start another batch.
Oh the eagerness that skillet brought 
when Daddy popped the corn
is something that no microwave can match.
Now it only takes that popping sound
or the smell of melting butter
to bring all of the memories flooding back,
of those long leisure evening hours 
we’d spend with one another
before Daddy said, “It’s time to hit the sack.”


Won 3rd place in Sounds and Smells contest
Categories: substituted, family
Form: Narrative

A Taxpayer Speaks

A TAXPAYER SPEAKS

Years ago when filing tax forms reared its proliferating death’s head
I cursed, perspired, and thought about moving to a foreign homestead
As a low-income taxpayer I felt too unimportant to hire an accountant
So I filed and filed for years, at all times a very incompetent combatant
Penalties-plus-interest plagued me and I could not raise a skilled defense
Prolonged tax failures destroyed my sense of self-confidence
It was past time to explore options to end to all this tax nonsense 
Waking to a new day I jumped out of bed at the crack of dawn
And scoured the yellow pages for a tax advocate to call upon
After detailing my sad tax history they agreed to take my case head-on
My tax life was now covered by tax experts with knowledge and brawn
My “Tax-Saviors” wasted no time plunging into battle early-on
Past tax filings were messy, chaotic, confusing and jumbled
Yet they contended, defended, persevered and never crumbled.
I have learned that tax advocate giants who defend vulnerable taxpayers
Give Tax Dictators headaches for they are tougher and tenacious tax players .

A tribute is due these Tax Defenders who aid us so nobly
And recalling the moving inscription on our Statue of Liberty
(An Emma Lazarus 1883 poem composed in New York City)
My tribute follows and is submitted very humbly
(please forgive the “re-phrasing” substituted for clarity):

Give us your tired, your poor, your tax-ignorant masses,
Yearning to breathe free who have no one to file their taxes
Oh, send these huddled and tortured masses,
(Who feel so inept and like derisory asses)
To Tax Saviors who lay waste to all kinds of tax matters
Rescuing taxpayers dwelling in indecision and tax-law tatters
These Tax-Saviors welcome all with an open-door policy
And any taxpayer who makes the journey
Will at last enjoy fear-free tax filing yearly.”

(However, new tax laws are being drafted by devious Tax Dictators 
Who derive joy from harassing captive taxpaying participators!)
© Carol Zic  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: substituted, tribute,
Form: Rhyme

Trial

To the wisest there is no answer
Even as a multitude perplexed
The one whose trouble is their concern
Knowing far less even for himself
Ordinary yet alone and seemingly unparalleled
Perhaps the narcissism talking
The rectitude repair if possible
But no happy cure

Not for this one like a
Substituted sheep upon the altar
Could it not have been an object
Of less potential
Unguided and unsourced, fearing
The before it is too late
Life lived as days not as a whole
Never having had an adequate defense
Against the prosecutor who knoweth all
© Aron Jacob  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: substituted, angst, confusion, happiness, introspection,
Form: Free verse
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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

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