poems become
interchangeable
remove
the image
the poem
remains
when synapses
misfire
identity
disperses
before death
arrives
when the hands
forget
the song
the Martin
OM-45 Deluxe
inscribed in spruce
and mother-of-pearl
the third fret
worn smooth
by G
an archive
of vanished
movements
most poems
observe
others collect
surfaces
fallen leaves
frozen ponds
abandoned chapels
secondhand
transcendence
rehearsed
astonishment
mistaking
recognition
for revelation
few descend
into
distressed
consciousness
where nothing
remains
clean
is messier
no idle
observations
consciousness
a spiral
of repitition
residue—
not the subject
only the
substitution
the mosquito
bite
of fungibility
==========
REFLECTED WATERS
distinguish
paridisal
feelings
knowing
perceiving
speculative
portions
subsumed
in
unpredejudiced
awareness
seeing
with
visionary
interchangeable
coherence
from
achievements
wholeness
to anticipate
learned
linguistic
language
evolved
externalities
convince
deviation
&
aberration
with
genuine
feelings
We’re made to feel little.
Like peons on the board of life.
We’re not insignificant and interchangeable.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
At peace, with a serene look
Having not once shown through life
To be attainable;
Neath faith's not so numb read of
"In God's care". "Taken by angels".
That's interchangeable.
“After your death you will be
What you were before your birth”
Dear Arthur, where are you, tell me
Have you returned back to Earth?
For if you are out somewhere
Your point above is hard to grasp
That a mind over matter will care
If we still have faces of ours
For there’s no recognition possible
Without people we knew so well
Otherwise we are easily tossable
Interchangeable in this hell
Memory is the key to the soul
Lost memory can’t be revived
Little blessings of getting old
Calm down the will to survive.
Reflection
Describes how one is seen
Shows your opposite gene,
In the light of day, I see the smiles
Spreading around, bring it for a while.
Ends up, we all fake it, it seems
It was a reflection of what the world wanted to be seen
Interchangeable we grief
Leaving the past a mirror of our relief
With every step on this winding road,
I shed my burdens, I lighten the load.
Through valleys deep and mountains tall,
My heart beats louder, I dare to call.
All in all,
The one reflection was a darkened
recall to the unreal Yarkand
Far from all, I placed the mirror and
What lies ahead, a mystery veiled,
In fragile hopes, my heart is sailed.
With every beat, my heart reveals,
The essence of what deeply feels
With every turn, a lesson learned,
Embracing each flame, my spirit burned
Describes how one is seen
Shows your opposite gene,
In others’ eyes, a glimpse of me,
Together, we find what it means to be free.
All in all
The one reflection was a darker me
Within the dark mystery of evening,
he listens to two interchangeable discourses
One the gentle persuader, the other, life's ultimate blamer.
Troubled by these seething exchanges,
both conscious and unconscious currents resound,
As the master's inner thoughts boom,
pounding into trails of indecision
with wired quizzes on his mind.
In silence, he weighs dark and light perspectives-
question left unanswered in the din
of reflection,
and through gradual flow of spontaneous musings,
Logic nags his cerebral strains-
scientific, structured assessment of matters which do not really matter...
Somehow, amid the debate where reason pauses with the fragile voice of instinct, the heart remains silent
offering gentle hunches revealing the
wisdom born from honesty, truth...
Slowly, this inner prompting arises
as the master in quiet introspection
realizes: the mind can lie , pride is ego- based ...but the heart, can it in conscience cope with deceit?
NOTE: Sedoka syllable count is interchangeable
Ichikatauta:
5-7-5
Nikatauta:
5-7-5
Sedokada:
5-7-7
5-7-7
SETUP: I was THE baby ~~0~~ They were MY babies
The Passed My Past
my siblings called me
the walking problem maker
~ I'm the problem child
my kids once called me
the walking problem solver
~ I am the problem
~ be better sitters
they are to resolve ~ failure
I win ~ +movies ~ they lose
~ be better parents
they are to resolve ~ failure
I lose ~ objectives they win
~~0~~
I miss long ago
to be called a brat again
and useless to them
I miss recently
to be told thanks dad again
can you help me dad
benefits I ~ had
they have all passed on ~ but me
their absence ~ is now my void
benefits I ~ have
they have all moved on ~ from me
ocean parts ~ but not our hearts
*to my wife and son who are now with my family
for your information
I am not a little toy brick man
with U shaped hands
and interchangeable heads
but the world I live in
is
I like to think
that if I can think it
there is way
somehow
someway
the then and now
interchangeable
each palm
holding a kingdom
the weight of my
heart would suffice
When people talk about traveling to the past they worry about radically
changing the present by doing something small. But rarely do they think about doing something small, to radically change the future.
Baby steps are important because they are much more achievable
then giant mountains or far away stars that cannot be touched
Short term goals are comforting to an individual
when the long term goal is still in progress, but out of reach
A sprint runner at a short distance race
has more powerful glutes, calves and quads to propel them forward
and gives them more time to build stamina, before the big marathon
Leave a tempting trail, activate cruise control, hold a hand
Wear comfy shoes and just start walking
When people think about the future, they think its already set
but it can be interchangeable, with one single step ahead.
Be progressive and advance onwards one baby step at a time
sooner than later your future will align,
and you will get there when, its your time to shine.
Her head was on last night.
She has many different heads -
there interchangeable.
She's no potato head though
just a figure of speech and expression
with lots of playful parts.
When her heads not on
it's difficult to get to know her
her mouth turns into a moth
chasing moonbeams.
Eventually her head stays put
then I impatiently construct imaginary
love scenes
while she sips red wine
through red lips (slightly bored as usual).
I hurriedly cobble together odd bits of fabrication
out of unprintable words,
sometimes she helps
sometimes she runs around
screaming:
"For God's sake do better."
Then I get mad
and change her face.
We're just a normal couple
neither of us are content until
we disassemble our reality completely.
Often we don't know who we are.
Those times are the best.
Lo, Meursault, the hero, of the novel, 'the outsider',
Is spun by absurdity, like the web of a spider.
Neither religion nor society does affect him,
Nor does anything like Faith and Hope make him sing a hymn.
Takes truths compatible like peanut, jelly, or butter,
Or simply interchangeable like a knife or cutter...
He admits his widowed mother in a home for the aged,
When she seeks his filial fondness he's fiercely enraged.
His mother's demise, like an orphan, does not affect him,
Not mourning for her, with his girlfriend, he enjoys a swim.
He's not sad, about murdering someone, for no reason,
His darling finds another; he doesn't feel her act treason.
He spends his time in prison working, eating, and sleeping,
He lives like a wooden log; no system; no timekeeping.
He takes his capital punishment too, just like a feast,
One could see his existence ending like that of a beast...!
08 May 2023
Couplet Poetry Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
You make it hard to sleep without you,
anticipation feels like chaotic lines;
My pulse has become arbitrary
devoid of a purpose to persist;
Anticipation feels like chaotic lines
interchangeable beginning and end;
Devoid of a purpose to persist,
alone I toss and turn in bed;
Interchangeable beginning and end
my pulse has become arbitrary;
Alone I toss and turn in bed,
you make it hard to sleep without you.
I believe we all,
Have a dark side.
I have, more than once,
I swam against the tide.
Some of us keep the
Dark side in our head.
Some of us go where,
Others dared to tread.
Deep inside the head where,
Dark thoughts should be.
Deep down in the darkness,
So, no one can see.
We all have a demon,
That rules our hell.
We have all experienced
A dry spell.
All of us have
A good angel.
The demon and angel
Are interchangeable.
We must surely have
A secret to keep.
I know still waters
Run deep.
We all have a unique
Personal story.
Most of us have taken
A personal inventory.
Some seek the dark,
Others the light.
Some play in the day,
Others play at night.
Some have extra jokers,
Other cards up their sleeve.
Some do not care,
Others believe.
The key is finding
Happiness in one's self.
You can't find happiness
In someone else.
Turbo1904
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