Imitations Poems

Kiss the Ring

‘Satire is traditionally the weapon of the powerless against the powerful.’ – Molly Ivins

don’t believe the many bots
dripping fermented honey
extolling the clown’s virtues
Gaza graveyards bid sunny

an emperor without clothing
dressed in naked ignorance
his vitriolic poison spewed
golden statues at the entrance

undercurrents of the morally corrupt  
tables laid in great halls of fame
the silver gleams; imitations on the walls 
of imagined ancestors – all the same

guests dressed in penguin suits
the matching red ties like the blood 
of their foe in some computer game
a victory claimed,  I never understood

kiss the ring of the king as he howls
the laughter echoes in the beggar’s bowl

On the Promenade

On the promenade they stroll,
The Hokas and Adidas,
While in between the pigeons squawk
And what they mean is "Feed us!"

Nikes and New Balance add
To Sunday's march of sneakers,
With Saucony's and OC's on
The feet of mileage seekers.

Some Skechers even make the scene
With Brooks and Reeboks showing;
All of them, at varied paces,
Coming here or going.

Growing up, we all had Keds
Or cheaper imitations.
Nowadays, the choice is vast
To match one's inclinations.

Marginalia

MARGINALIA
footnotes
  imitations
&limitations
continuously
fashioned
  differences
generalisations
classified
in the
      particular
the
  subjective
        ceased
intent
 on
  definition
cornered
  contained
&
  finally
    desired

Of Homer, Iliad and the Fall of the Mighty Greeks

Of Homer, Iliad And The Fall Of The Mighty Greeks

As the moon repents from its many vague allusions
And the splintered rains never rain upon true imaginations
What are we to think of those fools, plastic imitations
Does bright dew and turnips spring from revolutionary actions

He toys with unrepentant love and celebrated crisis
Begs the grey-cast dawn to organize her princess retreat
While pigs and blinded dogs drink furiously at the oasis
The Greek, smokes final cigar and tells us damn you boys eat

We tread ever onward; dawn stimulates its latent spirit
Ahead lay the great battlefields of the valiant Greek dead
Clouds begin vomiting and blood spurts out from trees near it
Homer ghost comes, cries lets be true to our heroes
instead.

Mighty Greeks fought hundred of battles had heroes in all.
Sad, nobody stays on top, so even the Greeks had to fall.


Robert J. Lindley, Rhyme
Feb 11th, 1971 age 17

Sneakered

In Air Jorden’s he strode proud,
with name-brands he stood
apart.

In closets
sneakers walked
not far from their boxes.


Heel to toe stock grew

Well known on eBay,
to barter, trade and pay
he paved the way

Fake stuff,
imitations led to 
litigation
financial gloom.

Nike rued the day
his wife
put down her foot
gave him what for,

then ran away

in cut-price
              footwear.

Chasing Faux News

For years now, they have survived,
    Through deceitful imitations.
Maneuvering within a landscape they
    Support, with few limitations.

Yet recently, this crazy fox, seems to be
    Running from a pack of legal hounds.
Dodging overgrowth & accountability,
    Through some forested, judicial grounds.

This hunt is a lengthy one, stretching
    Beyond torn fences and dominion.
As the tireless legal canines progress,
    Tailing the scent of lies and opinion.

Ultimately this prey will fall to capture,
    Along with its predatory nature, reduced.
While remaining livestock gains some relief,
    And the appropriate people, can rule the roost.

The World of Colours

Children like bright colours
And so kindergartens and nurseries
And so shopping items
And so youngsters
And so tourist centres
And so food and souvenirs
And so bright photos
Colours brighten up hearts 
A sign of hope,happiness,confidence
Freshness and life
But too much artificial touch 
Will lose the naturality of scenery 
The classic beauty
A quiet elegance
The history of antiquity
An appreciation with time 
Anyway natural beauty is invaluable
No imitations 
No artificiality
Oh
How about stop painting one's heart 
with
Colours of greed

Betwixt - Between

Betwixt-Between
      

    I woke up
               in a dream.
     The smell of
               tastes gone before.
      Authentic tulips
               blended with
       plastic imitations.
               "Bluie" chirping,
       "CiCi" meowing at kitchen's door:
                A cloak of weariness
        vying for more
                 attention;
        as I drift into a
                 light of sun...
      
Thama Logan 5/7/2022

Visionary Vanities

VISIONARY VANITIES
 symbols
  meritricious effects
dedicated
& intense
  colouring
so sensual
 a longeur
so ethereal


brilliance
a singleness of heart
rejoicing
  in the truth
of beauty
  symmetry

of illusions
    imitations
 gilded
 bold
novel

a tapestry
    of mystery
creative
  human
in
celebrations
    of
    epic themes

THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived

Malnourished Hearts

I want to discover a new way to balance on the tightrope.
I don’t want to push forward, 
Nor do I want to roll backwards.

I surely can’t stay in one place for too long as they say,
But who hardly has time nowaday’s to rot at this time of age and wait for the grim reaper to stamp the big red “decay” onboard our faces?

It’s so unusual to walk backwards on my hands near the unknown.
Perhaps moving side to side will sub-due for now,
Until I falter to the choices of my extemporaneous circumstance.

I hate it when a old saying that is so bland & bleak such as,
"What came first, the chicken or the egg?"
Picked and rot out the black caged doves brains so intensively.
I say it was the soul that resided within the body & not the body forming around the soul.

Well of course they would react the way that they did,
After all, they’re impure imitations of false angels.

Without further notice,
If you are only keen to the idea of viewing our redundant self-loathing behavior in a black or white demur for the rest of your lively days, 
You’re hurting your egotistical mindset and malnourishing your heart.

Dancing Water Hollows

DANCING   WATER  HOLLOWS


The canal water endlessly  moving  from passing  boats 
Creates not waves  but dancing hollows between, 
Moving like  countless competitors in a dance hall
Swirling around  in  kaleidoscopic color.

Hollows waltzing in time to their internal rhythms
In a  constant irregular flux of shapes and positions,
What geometric science calls hyperbolic paraboloids
In countless watery reflections.  Dancing  figures  of eight.

Each with the same rainbow of colors  on its edges,
Red   and   yellow and always with green  on the outside,
Lliving reflected imitations of  the church colors above.
Yet each is different. Liquidly mobile with endless variety. 

God’s  informal dance has no  rules, just beauty :
Colorful shapes taken momentarily 
By wave-hollows. Giant  living amoebas  with green edges, 
And seen with  His heavenly microscope.  


17   April  2021
…………………………………………………………………..


NOTE   
Next time you are looking into a river or lake   with reflections  between the   waves, look carefully at the reflections and    see how they are arranged   by nature into beautiful patterns.

Poetics Poem, Dear Aristotle

Poetics Poem 5

********(Mimesis)******

Dear Aristotle, where, then, 
Do the Arts fit?  
You say each of them
Falls to mimesis, but their works, to me,
Erupt into present moments
Wearing immediate faces - not masks -
Speaking their own lyrics
Without consideration of what came
Before or will come  afterwards,
Presenting a stage for dialogue...
Opening platforms for exchange.
The artworks begin anew each time
The audience receives impressions
Or as the works are relived repeatedly,
They may bring new strokes, viewed as 
Potentially new and not, as you say,
“Imitations of imitations.”
Inspiration feeds the audience
As well as the artists, and all
Of time moves to 
Impress upon the exchanges.



(C) sally Young Eslinger 2/22/20

Imitation Not Mom

Bungles She wears imitations 
The Mom doesn’t ever know
Her children not that to hold 
To see her in gold 
Even her at this old

Bewick and Blake Beholden

BEWICK

unhampered    
      unclouded 
         clear precise
     memoirs of the mind
hollowed out of time

in domains dissected
         yellow harvests
         fading foliage
          leaves     birds&trees
depicted
    with an unusual eye

a spontaneous overflow
                       of feelings
                             exposed
the rarest
           of qualities
exquisitely
     executed&
                     engraved
BLAKE

without fluence
         in infinite patience
         vital& neccessary
         bursting with life
         yet
          tender&
                   exhuberant

marginalia
          footnotes&epigrams
          imitations worthy of notice
     subjective
                particular
         in mood    &    nature

a miasma
       intent on definition
in visions   of    dells knooks & corners
of paradise
in
a pitch of poetic intensity
vivid brilliancy
        mist dreaming glimmers
upon
        gaudy daylight

Once I Stood Upon a High Mountain Top

Once I Stood Upon A High Mountain Top

I stood upon a mountain top,
weeping boulders tumbling amiss
this sight held me, I could not stop
for loving sky I thought to kiss.

I stood in an emerald glen,
its forest sights and sounds abound
sweet wonder, true blessing to men
as a lover's beating heart pounds.

I stood in a stream its waters deep,
earth and sky calling out my name
truly fine gifts sent when I sleep
breath, cripples no longer lame.

I stood on high, heard a voice say,
seek not life's sad imitations
as life rises forth break of day
God's Love, sits in all creations.

Robert J. Lindley, 7-23-2019
Rhyme, ( A glimpse of truth in a dream once I saw )

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