Copy Poems - Poems about Copy

Salt a gin and tonic, It’s too dry. Assault my temple with sin, Be honest, You like the rye. Look me in my honest eye, Conversations with myself are the fondest, Because no one understands me better when I rhyme. Took a pen and across the paper it slides, Scribble out the oddest lines. Apply pressure...

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In silvered depths, a phantom twin resides, A silent echo where my image glides. Each gesture mine, a mirrored pantomime, Yet lacks the warmth, the essence that is mine. My right hand raised, it's left that takes the flight, A world reversed in pale and shimmering light. The laughter caught, reflected back to me, A hollow sound, devoid of true decree. Does this...

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I’m a digital copy and so are you We are digital implementations Into the world of alternative view Sharing our endless vacations Once we appeared there, so we remain Still I can hear your voice We are the spirit that flies on again Over the land of our choice Digital world seems a rescue for us We can’t be exiled from this...

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Please give it a read This makes the brain grow and thoughts arise They said, people stop thinking When people stop reading They said, rich people has big library While poor people has big TV They said, people reading book is dumbfounded While people using gadget is getting dumber They said, books are hard copy While gadgets are soft copy Well, I see them...

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"A writer must use ink from their heart for their readers." By Poet Even as a creative "Ghost" writer, we need "Heart" as we pull an all-nighter. What will our muse want to "Deliver," maybe happy or sad or be a forgiver. Words can sometimes be very "Tender," other times be bold and an offender. "Erase" is one of our many tools, no...

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"A true writer needs a heart to write with. AI does Not have a heart, they can Not write they just copy."...

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Shames and insecurities they made a game of siring the generations of the world The flaw in creation where the need to complicate is seen as intriguing Which the body of the wife is not her's alone neither is the body of the husband then him stagnated shall be horned a fault in his thought pattern she stood to hear him defame her by using historical references to describe women of...

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He points out, holding both in his hands. "It doesn't really matter, really, where it lands." "You choose," he smiles, in command. "I would take bland." "Bland?" he looks at me, one eyebrow raised high. "Yeah," I step to the fridge, no lie. I take it out, no need to stand by. "If I want to mix it, I could try. And bland...

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What if poetry soup just shut down with all your work before you edited always copy you work even if you have to go to the library check your titles as well sometimes identity thieves actually rip your titles to untitled shocking don’t give up keep copies keep copying your work these companies used search engines and...

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Life is copy paste Bashers have the same script Demolition hate....

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Search That Bus (6 Lines or Less) Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Miranda Hawley Hey gals and gents Keep busing along every little step From stop to stop every little step counts Be following your ABC's And crossing your T's For no Amber gets left behind...

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How much in our life do we copy/paste and what is the effect of it? You can copy/paste pictures, my energy, my attitude, my emotions, my spiritual growth, but what is it about copying? You have the choice in life what you choose to copy and paste if any. Copying is reproducing, such as an...

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Before I became a bag of potatoes I used to be as pencil thin as any salty chip. I had a pencil thin mustache, pencil thin legs, pencil thin neck, in fact all my appendages were said to be pencil thin. You might suppose that my pencil is thin, but no, it is actually a fountain pen and it is as fat as a potato I...

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There is a lot of information out there we may all be in overload mode. Oh how to be simple in intricacy, oh the enormity. I take out my ever moving mind lead it into the park where the sky is also moving. Time is the culprit the impostor the script writer. I should delete all the thoughts in this poem forever, but I will make a copy...

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Designed to be odvious Which slender finds thee ...

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