Best Supplant Poems
Dawn slowly awakened to supplant the moon
Empty, the canopy where stars had been strewn
In repose, Luna slept after wandering velvet skies
and spider webs shimmered in the flight of sunrise
Dew drops evaporated upon the fragrant tuberose
as a playful breeze billowed my sheer nightclothes
Seagulls swooped and scurried along amber shores
A salty crew grappled with the sea on labored oars
Muscles pulled in rhythmic chorus, as if in lyrical rote
as surging waves rocked the hull of their fishing boat
They surpassed each crest and triumphed over swells
The sun's prisms painted the horizon in muted pastels
Inspired by the milieu of ruffled swirls across the sea
sunlight dappled over its surface in sequenced litany
I sipped a second cup as thoughts were being seeded
Poetry spawned inside of me; a birthing to be heeded
For as driftwood hastens down rapids to a new frontier
I needed to ledger my verses, ere they hie to disappear
August 13, 2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 12 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Lovingly Dedicated to My Closest Friend, My Mother
My loving friend can caress cares away.
With simple gestures meant to pleasure sway,
She turns my smile upright and firms its stay.
Such kindness meets my same, I do oft pray.
As balm she soothes incurred hurt, ache and pain.
Together, life’s rude battles lose their strain
As handled by our combined wit and brain.
I hope her loving light will never wane.
She matters so much to my fragile heart
That I view her as my dear counterpart.
We sometimes separate, but never part.
I love her laughter, value her brain-smart.
We grow and change like season’s nature hues.
With candor we explore life’s many clues,
And, God knows, we both paid quite hefty dues.
As precious gift, our friendship joys accrue.
What she may need, I pray to aptly grant.
What dims her joy, I strive to best supplant.
What hurts her feelings, I seek to decant.
What her heart wants, becomes my own heart’s chant.
Faces of death stare against my raptured skin.
Silently, they watch me in frigid judgment.
I used to run from them in unholy matrimony,
Peeling the sins from my teardrops
Wishing they would
Just go away.
The brown-skinned disease normalized her penetrating,
Gaslit disgust against the smiles,
Against the faith
“YOU HAD IT COMING!”, she resounded in front of my Son…rise.
“All your fault”, the faces of death impolitely declared.
I begged for her abuse to end.
I pleaded for those faces to cease their stares against my coalescing wounds.
I prayed that the stars would let our friendship count to infinity.
But the brown-skinned disease could only count to 5150.
Terms & conditions no longer applied.
How would I ever escape?
How would I ever taste tears of joy again?
How would I supplant the bruises now invested in each heartbeat?
When would I stop apologizing for the harm she caused...?
I stared back at the faces of death.
“Not today!” “Not tomorrow!”
In this decrepit whirlwind of deceit
They smiled back at me, turning the other cheek.
“Stronger than yesterday”, they whispered.
I awoke from my descent into paralysis,
Listening to the gentle clacking of laptops,
The wistful choruses enunciated from the turntable…
…”No easy way out. I won’t back down. I’ll stand my ground.”
For my walls built
By the faces of death
Are meant to climb,
Not to confine
©Tacito
A falling star met butter fingers,
kissed the pavement rain,
scorched threadbare pocket cloth,
dream vapour in the wet.
Dark smoke was all it brought
to dreary eyes of pain,
and tears crept with sloth
ancient as the sky.
Fresh bile around the grilles,
steaming sweet purgation,
foretell a future day
by entrails of clairvoyance.
A seeing eye fulfils
my blind imagination,
all cats by night are grey,
analogous charcoal shapes.
Someplace else, another room,
where I can spread like plague,
or go unnoticed, lean
old driftwood on the bar.
Sometimes you leave perfume,
a promise bloused and vague,
to linger sight unseen,
I sling my hook to home...
...where you supplant the reasons,
a spell invoked and blissed,
to conjure my induction,
becalm my raging sails.
My angel for all seasons,
components sorely missed,
in spite of this reduction,
no less my world, my love.
winter approaches
snowflakes tumble from the sky-
a flurry of white
Autumn colors confetti the ground,
while brisk breezes scatter leaves around.
Winter winds rattle barren branches,
knocking off any remaining leaves.
Mother Nature is in transition;
stripping the scenery yet again.
The naked trees are in remission;
till Spring showers, water them with rain,
and green canopies, supplant the plain.
Written: August 16, 2025, for contest by Unseeking Seeker
Line of inquiry:
"conjoined with the whole - we play our life role
exuding a scent - granting love consent"
************
Conjoined with the Whole
Not as sovereigns,
but as sylphlike strands,
woven into a ductile tapestry—
Each act of kindness forges
a bond within the communal consciousness.
Love is not a shadowy incantation,
nor a glamour to inveigle us into isolation.
It is hortatory, beckoning forth...
a rosy summons to convene,
amid the clangor of squalor and sojourn
to supplant the slipshod ache
with a warm intention.
We are not mere wanderers
adrift in nebulous vacuum—
We are emulous embers,
thirsting for the amaranthine,
avid to imbue our days,
with seraphic resonance.
Community is not a chimera,
It is pavonine in its iridescent truth,
multivocal in its sweet sorrow,
edacious for connection
but never laden with avarice.
We do not dismiss the burden—
We collocate it, we share it
withdraw from silence,
and cast aside the Icarus myth,
a tale of solitary flight,
Even the untamed child.
crumbles for the quest of kinship—
Even the weary elder winnows,
the soothing balm of a neighbor’s touch.
Love sanctions its courtliness—
not merely a whispered sigh,
but as a philanthropic deed,
a calyx protruding,
amid the clamor of desire.
To love is to be an iconoclast
to find solace in a gentle embrace—
to forbear the yearning
to anathematize others
to witness the evocative elysian—
in the eyes of the distraught.
We are not aphonic.
We are harmonious,
even in our disconsolate times.
We are evocative, full of meaning,
even when our souls feel drained.
And when we reflect,
We accomplish this together—
in the emollient of shared grief,
in the soothing touch of shared joy.
So let us frolic with abandon,
Let us explore the hidden meadows of our lives.
Let us gather in our joy,
transcendent in our understanding,
Our sense of self is transient.
Let us be love—
not as an elusive dream,
but a tangible act.
Let us be united with the whole.
And play our life roles.
with eloquence
vibrancy,
and grace.
Don’t chop down,
nor be quick
to tear her down,
limb by limb.
Your lumbering fever,
at task. Won’t last!
Move your harbinger
out of my yard.
I feel your heartbeat,
pressed upon.
I link my hands,
to embrace
your bark.
Grandkids, sing
and dance
near your roots:
Similitude ovation
of generations.
My forest is small,
only to you all.
For me, it has
a Tinman’s heart.
The leafy surround,
swooshing in Summer
storms, whirligigging
in Autumn chill.
I peek at the moon;
it’s a game of over
and under. Her brightness
contrasts with dark limbs.
Always and forever,
even if I must go -
must I make like a tree
and leave one day?
I’ll find true trees
in paradise. No serpents,
to supplant you.
God is the cardinal creator
He is the generous giver
He can rise a dead to life, being the grantor
He can create a thing that existed never
He gave what you have
He knows whatever you know
Your deeds drive Him to decide what to give
As you deserve, He does sow
From you, He has nothing to get
He may test you before giving
To test your devotion, test He may set
To adjudge your faith and to ordain your living
Divine dream driven to sacrifice his dearest son
Candid command relates, not to a materialistic thing
One that can’t be a supplant or substitute being beyond season
Rather very well one, from his own being
Being the one and only son,
who was born of the Spirit, by the will of God
for a centenarian father, with a divine reason
as Abraham always adored Allah, for the overall good
Yet his faith on God as the Judge of the universe, was not weaken
Nor he took it as the biggest bitter pill to swallow
His trust over Allah was not shaken
Bewildering but bemused Abraham chose his dream to follow
His wife too accepted the sacrifice, with pleasure
She knows him as a man of noble character and an ‘apostle of Allah’
He was obedient to Allah and upright by nature
He never knows then, he too shall stay in history as messiah
Farewell kiss in the forehead of son, she gave
Son too set forward amusingly unto the altar
Execution was about to happen but Allah intervened to save
To proclaim the faith of Abraham as an ever shining star
This a terrific trial to test the deepness of devotion
Act of Abraham is an exemplary example of selfless surrender
Upholds the unity and understanding of a family, with a mention
Obedience to God opens gates of riches, grace, kindness and wonder!
His firm faith is famed as the holy ‘Muslim festival of sacrifice’
Eid-ul-Adha ever confirms that God unfailingly rewards those who do right
Faithful obedience to God like Hazrat Abraham, is suffice!
Even in dark and dungeon, God shall give you then, hope and sight!!
Above Poem is adapted from the eBook "BIRD OF PARADISE AND OTHER POEMS" by Mr.V.MUTHU MANICKAM. Copyrights reserved.
Creeping, crawling the time is calling,
night has come and the dark is falling.
Slinking, slithering the twilight moves,
as the squirming creatures hit their grooves.
Beneath the leaves the beetles advance,
while the worms break free to join the dance.
Their bodies swaying to and fro,
in cadence with the lightning bugs' glow.
Every creature big and small,
begins to stir 'neath the yellow ball.
Singing songs their date approves,
they woo there mate in microgrooves.
Tiny spiders take the chance,
in hopes their lovers crave romance.
But deep inside they all know,
soon they'll be dining with their widowed beau.
The insects carouse through the sleeping flowers,
they won't wake, it's after hours.
Dizzy Lizzies stretch and yawn,
curling petals, they await the dawn.
Tiny feet tickle their leaves,
as nits traverse their tendril weaves.
Only the Fly Traps join the rant,
to make a meal of a passing ant.
The tall grass sways like lofty towers,
as mantises use their magical powers.
They hide on the stalks of the sprawling lawn,
in wait for creatures to prey upon.
Petals glow white in their final reprieve,
to be quickly replaced by new Crinum leaves.
As creatures retreat and the dawn wakes the plants,
The Spider Lily waits, the night to supplant.
If I could, I would write a love poem that never exist
But exist in the lost mind of the betrayal of love.
If I could, I would stop the movement of the clock,
If I could go to heaven to see God, I would go
On sunday and ask him why men are different from
Women whose brains are always at their back head.
If I could love, I would love pretty ugly women,
If I could marry, I would marry ugly women
So that I won't be able to share my jewel with
Anyone who does not know how to wear his pant.
If I could dream, I would dream like Joseph and
Dance along the earthless edges of the world with smiles.
If I could say yes at the presence of the sun,
I would behold the moon and ask him of my father.
If I could get money, I would be happy and good
But Alas, no amount of money can supplant the sadness I have caused in the presence of my pursuit.
No amount of wondering can rephrase my reneged promises to those children of the butterfly street.
Now chrismas is at the corner of my door waiting,
If I could water her soul and bath her body,
She would be happy to stay in my house and be
My guest; for a night stand with a sister like her is not a sin to the adulterous Romans whose lips are calling me.
If I could, I would stop the Chimpanzees from jubilating and languishing their joyless moods.
If I could, I would call on the rain on those lost daughters of yours whose legs are blindfolding my eyes.
The seasoned soup has watered my palatable stomach and I hope to release my tomorrow to him.
If I could make love to that lady, I would begin from her head.
If I could become a father today, I would be a wise father.
If I could dance I would dance just like David.
Shut your eyes and picture
a fun-filled, wacky world.
Where stars bejewel night,
and reality's blurred.
Imagine a blue sky;
with billowing white clouds.
And allow that image;
to supplant city crowds.
Think of when you last smiled:
focus upon that thought.
And relive the feelings
that remembered smile, brought.
Let your mind consider
life's possibilities.
And don't limit your wants
or capabilities.
Dream about tomorrow
if you don't like today.
Cut loose by happy thoughts,
depression drifts away.
Open your eyes, and see
reality anew.
Life bristles with wonders:
and one of them is you.
"And Today's Special is Wine and Cheese"
Some wine and cheese
If you would please
Depressed, I cannot express myself for I’m being oppressed and repressed
Yet, I reside in the west, my lines are treated as an unwelcome guest
I’ve ornamented ideas that will go unheard
Reading them will be seen as a vulture transcribed word
“A Stale Birthday Cake,” could be submitted
But a lot of terms are not permitted
If I leave those texts out to describe my rage
It might as well be written in the stone age
Here’s an example, “ , ” substantial white noise is found on this page
“The Penetralia Ruby Queen,” hint, the anatomy
But, is there no shame, outcry, how dare I, the audacity
It conveys about some person with a dancing nymph’s fantasy
But it altercates against the morals of Christianity
Here’s an example, “ , ” undeniably excommunicated for blasphemy
The villainous bark, scream, “Cultures Dark Theme”
It’s something written from a nightmare’s dream
If submitted, it would drive the masses into insanity
Yet, this piece of work prohibits the usage of profanity
Here’s an example, “ , ” silenced because others must be spared of its inhumanity
“The World’s Playground” still waiting to see if it gets banned
Negligent in comprehending the rules beforehand
The lyrics uses a word to describe a person who gets paid
In an ideal world, I could just switch the rhyme to being laid
Here’s an example, “ ,” my apologies for the cross realm alabaster masquerade
Finally, “Unzipped Apple Core,” was written as a rant indeed
Bitten by the fire ant, I was hoping it would supplant a seed
But apparently the flying monkey festival has everyone strapped to a ticking time bomb
Another useless firework display to a bromide poem, so turn the page to end this sitcom
The doctor said, "Take this. It will cure the social disease”
So, for my last supper please, I would like some wine and cheese
Updated 5/14/2019
One World, One Love
O ver and over we dream of
N ever ending happiness with
E ternal earthly peace and harmony
W ondrous as it may seem
O nly a short time remains
R elative to the indefinite past
L ove's power will supplant this
D iabolical system of animosity
O ur hearts are burning with
N ascent yearnings for our
E motional release from distress
L ove will soon obliterate hate
O ne world, living together under one government of love
V ery soon it will be humanities reality
E very day pray, for one world, one love.
August 13, 2016
IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : Part XXVI
IF you pull that long-besieged face
Back and forth to Brussels in Brexit bob-sleigh
Deal or No-Deal backstop Customs excise nor phase
EU patience and make jingle-bells rein deer neigh
If you pull that plucky long face
You risk boxing the Left's adamant Brexit-Deal ear
" EYES " to the Right " NOSE " to the Left " have it " put Westminster grace out-of-place
No argument on amendments " PROSIT " with Franco-German beer
Then if you pull that long disfigured face
The Celts will with Scots not in English parley
To invite reigning Norman to fly in the face into Brexit space
Not mind you on skis past Omaha Beach and Isle Guernsey
Yet if you continue to pull that long-merited face
Even Roman legions will over-run the Charlemagne Gaul face rightaway
To watch Nero blitz-krieg London while May souffle sur les braises
Won't even a Nobel Peace Prize entice a ditch-Brexit May
If you must then pull a long-stymied face
Carve Britain out add a STAR to the Star-Spangled pot-pourrée
Let the Scots the Irish and the Welsh in gaelic discourse
While gentlemanly Six Nations Cup supplant Super Bowl rough play
© T. Wignesan - Paris, January 29, 2019
TIME
passes
timepieces
sundials, water clocks
known relics of past time
timers supplant the hourglass
“I-phones put the wristwatch on hold.”
revised June 21, 2014, Spring Equinox.