Long Imitations Poems
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I matter greatly, have value, I am loved, and therefore I love. When I was a child, my grandmother made me feel special. I later learned that she loved all
of her grandchildren, but at the time I felt she loved me more than all the others. I felt so loved by her that in grandma's eyes I could do no wrong.
I believe that her love gave me a balanced perspective of love.
When I was made by God, my maker did not throw away the mold,
but He simply refused to use that same mold again on another person.
It was never His intent to make me a perfect human being, but He left no
doubt that His purpose was about Uniqueness. He fully intended that there
was to be no duplications, no cloning, no copy catting, and no imitations.
I was wonderfully made just the way He actually made me. It matters not whom I sound like, look like, or even walk like. When He's attending to me
and my needs, He's not hurried because He's too busy, or has other concerns that are distracting Him. When He's focused on me, He never looks through
me nor mistakes me for someone else. He has a plan and purpose designed
specifically for me alone and is willing to go the distance for its fulfillment.
08162018PoetrySoupContest, Pick A Theme, Viv Wigle, 3P Theme picked: 1. There is only one me
I OPENED A DOOR
WAY BEYOND HOME.
I STOOD FOR A MOMENT
THEN STARTED TO ROAM.
I THOUGHT I HEARD
AN OCEANS ROAR.
WHAT I SAW,
WAS UNSEEN BEFORE.
THE HEAVENS WERE CLOSE.
JUST REACH OUT AND TOUCH.
THAT'S MY DESCRIPTION,
I KNOW IT'S NOT MUCH.
IT WAS A CLEAR GREEN SKY.
IT STARTED REFLECTING A LIGHT.
ONE MUST IMAGINE
DAY INTO NIGHT.
THE GREEN BECAME DARKER
LIKE THAT OF EMERALD.
THIS WAS A NIGHT
TILL THIS DAY IS MEMORABLE.
STRANGE ORANGE GLOWS
WOULD GO ROARING BY.
THEY WOULD COME AND GO
IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE.
THE ATMOSPHERE SEEMED
TO RISE AND FALL
WITH EACH OF THE PASSING'S
OF THOSE ORANGE GLOWING BALLS.
YELLOW'S AND BLUES
GREENS AND REDS.
SWIRLING AROUND
AND FILLING MY HEAD.
THE GASSES OR CLOUDS
CREATED FORMATIONS.
THEY LOOKED PEOPLE.
OR JUST IMITATIONS.
SOME LOOK ANCIENT.
OTHERS LOOKED FRESH.
MY DESCRIPTION OF VISIONS
ARE SOMEWHAT MY BEST.
A MOMENT IN TIME
OR JUST A REFLECTION.
THIS ALL TOOK PLACE
IGNORING OBJECTIONS.
IF I RELEASE ALL THE DETAILS
YOU JUST WOULDN'T BELIEVE.
IT MIGHT ANSWER QUESTIONS
HOW THE WORLD WAS CONCEIVED.
OF THE MILLIONS OF DOORS
I OPENED THIS ONE.
ON A COURSE OF COLLISION
SO THE DREAM IS ALL DOME
Eyes are for seeing.
Ears are for hearing.
Noses are for smelling and breathing
both in and out.
Mouths are for tasting
both bitter hard
and sweet soft truths,
trusts and mistrusts,
cooperations and competitions,
cultures of health and pathology,
climates benign and toxic,
and all sensory flavors between
balance and imbalance.
We reseed universal spirits
in remembered knitting materials of forest,
oceans of becoming
sea son daughters of swimming in and out being.
We reweave omnipotent divinity
within recast integrity of biodiversity.
We feed transcendent wealth of Earth's rich souls
and thereby bleed redemption from subliminal humanity.
Only together we heal future's climate of universal Promise
by re-sensing Elder landscapes of symbiotic swimming polypaths.
As one GaiaTribe of dancing spiritual health
we reconceive material wealth
reborn singing nations
corporations
religions
capitalizations
plantations
ministrations
individual imitations,
cultures of health and less pathology
and all enspirited flavors between
trust and mistrust,
truth of and for healing competing dualistic truths
resounding We Are One MindBody
Resonant CoArising Wave
Before there were rainbows, I roamed ambidextrously,
I streeled out into predawn air, senseless between Moon and Mars,
Reeling under Calvinistic cinder blocks, I hid from my shadows.
Before there were rainbows, I thought my heart was wooden,
In those days, they had shiny suits of armor awaiting me.
I tried filling them with my syrupy fluid, but it always leaked out.
Before there were rainbows, everyone was Fred or Ginger,
Ozzy or Harriet, Lucy or Ricky, Sonny or Cher, ones, or zeros,
Machine language with a chokehold on the imaginable.
Before there were rainbows, the age of innocence in yearbooks,
In high school pictographs, we were anatomical imitations of expectation,
Like Rockwell paintings, we were predictable, amusing, and safe.
Before there were rainbows, I dare not believe in my spectrum,
No fella sang “I Feel Pretty!” No boy “…could have danced all night!”
It was all covert, something dirty in a bathroom stall
Before there were rainbows.
My muscular lightning belied my vulnerable rain-soaked downpours
Before there were rainbows.
My secret Preludes to the Afternoon of a Fawn went undetected
Before there were rainbows.
I’m a senior now admiring all the hard-won freedom,
All the fluid beauty of the young, recalling the canned laughter
with what we tried to be before there were rainbows.
Published: July 10th, 2022 - Dissident Voice
Wise Postulations of Existance for The Damned
Solitude the pathway for self authentication
Interludes of what to say in the process of individuation
Attitudes of slow decay born from ill-considerations
Platitudes in early May about spring time commiserations
Various forms of entropy existing in the atmosphere
Precarious storms of ignomy resisting the biosphere
Nefarious swarms of privacy persisting through the tears
Hillarious warns the indignity insisting on perpetuating fears
Beached whales lined up on a distant shore
Reached sales upon the warehouse floor
Teach the fails to hit the target and never ask for more
Leaches, sails, newts and artists that ask what it’s all really for ?
Conversations of resistance behind a beer soaked bar
Invocations of insistence as the joke has gone too far
Intonations of coincidence upon the backseat of his car
Renovations of pure self-defense as we defend all that we are
Monumental distortions of reality and truth
Consequential misfortunes and an entirely misspent youth
Environmental disproportions stretched beyond scientific proof
Coincidental extortions of the law by the criminally uncouth
Complimentary postulations about what it means to be a wife
Reudimentary indignations about how not to live your life
Sedimentary geographic formations as the earth increases in strife
Elementary imitations of a rare collection knife
Swearing on a stack of Bibles that you’re not telling a lie
Waiting for a revival as the earth begins to die
Stating a perfect recital as what’s worse for both your eyes
Integrating what is vital before you evolve into becoming wise
Copywrite Elizabeth Moroz 2023
Look beyond your world.
The creation is not enough.
It is because of paradise that God cannot help us.
It is a paradise lost, and
it is with love we seem lost.
By love, God went insane.
He woke a week later and everything was
created.
When I figured it out,
I tapped into a state of equal madness.
I went insane.
There’s a purpose in questioning creation.
In soul-searching,
I found God might have been depressed.
I had to ask God to question His creation.
I guess we are not the only ones who are breaking.
I felt myself going through numb changes.
I felt myself changing into the weather.
If God is learning emotions through us,
why could He have not done better?
We are hallucinated-
exaggerated beings.
We exist because of love’s extremes.
We are possibly the Creator’s greatest mistake.
We exist until She comes back.
If God creates in His lover’s beauty,
The perhaps the universe is a crime of passion.
Yet every day I wake up with a funny feeling.
If we eat love,
what exists on earth that is not edible?
I think, to know how the universe works,
we should all be eating.
We should be beings.
We should all be creating.
I think the Creator’s journey is to watch
His own creation.
We are going insane.
We are imitations of God’s ex.
If we are here to keep Her alive,
then I feel that we are God’s karma.
In the beginning, I learned that
the beginning was the Word,
and the Word was with God,
and the Word was
Her.
Bernice Zoleka Mannie
LYAIOZ MANNIE
Protective Lyricism for the Ages Part Two
Martin Luther King creating a path to dessimate discrimination
An angel earning his wings from an epiphany of prophetic elation
Listening to Ella Fitzgerald sing while learning a litany of biblical quotations
Acknowledging what the accomplished man can bring to the depth of your insight and notations
Reflection on the history of mankind and the human race
Detection of the mystery of the refined acquisition of Heavenly Grace
Invention of the symphony that defined its own musical place
Prevention of the epiphany in the name of the legitimate corruption that we all must face
Culture and thought, revolution and resistance
Vultures distraught at the economic powers inability to accept difference
Subcultures contort beneath the robotic clandestine inference
As agriculture evades the poisonous attempts to regain universal prominence
Can you remain content to wipe the tears from a broken child’s eyes?
Will you refrain to vent when confronted with the fears of a vulnerable persons cries?
Will you remain content and resolute when presented with categorical lies?
Can you see through a charlottan selling snake oil and prevent him from orchestrating further demise?
Stand tall among the uncertainty and the acrimony and defeat
Create a call for continuity as the less evolved struggle to compete
Lauren Bacall and her comical purity as her timing is complete
Lucifers fall from heaven that remains spiritually almost now obsolete
As the heightened notions of virtue overcome the notions of hell
And the frightened invocations of servitude become commotions for the brave to tell
While the enlightened devotions of gratitude arise from the men who initially fell
The power rises above the certitude of any humanly epiphany or spell
Embrace the new creations of progressive thought in actions
Face the few negative connotations of suggestive criticism of your exactions
Replace the two imitations of corrective empiricism of your protractions
Disgrace the blue intonations of all defective invitations to celebrate protective lyricism that requires astute observations
The End
Copywright Elizabeth Moroz 2023
Free range kitchen; cherished pets all around
In adjoining rooms animistic shrines abound
No clucking, cackling pens we'll hound
But residual carcases we'll gladly impound
A docile harvest plucked from the ground
No pork butts, rump roasts, filets to astound
Only our bleating hearts with consciences tightly wound
Thankfully a Speckled goose cannot be bound
With spindly greens our pristine figures we'll round
With a large caldron of bloody beets our carniverous friends confound
Replace the Carolina turkey with a tofu gam
No Picnic ham only Vegetarian Spam
Cancel the Giblet gravy; with spicy curry our imitations drown
A hearty Lentil soup; bouillon not a gram
In this plush modern world of convenience
where everything you could want can be sent
to your house with just a single mouse-click,
it’s no wonder men feel depressed and sick.
A sex evolved for hard peril and work,
now just sits around, unchallenged, inert.
More and more I think ol’ Teddy was right,
we have got to choose the strenuous life.
It seems harder to do that now-a-days,
the rough jobs of old have all gone away,
the modern jobs just make your soul scream,
tapping away at keys, staring at screens,
never seeing what comes of your toil
can get a man all anxious and roiled,
what we do for family, and for our wives,
makes it hard to embrace strenuous life.
But in our free time the choice does remain:
Push for you limits, or more of the same.
See this awesome world filtered on the net,
or explore it in person, much better yet.
'Cause no Jpeg made can capture the feel
of a rocky mountain or fast four wheel,
no video made captures country nights,
that’s only found in the strenuous life.
Get out on a weekend to mountain trails,
find a place to rides horses, but watch the tail!
Put a canoe or kayak in a fast stream,
then come back later for some fly fishing
come Fall go out and take part in the hunt,
lay in a garden to soak up the sun,
better still bring along the kids and wife,
give them a taste of the strenuous life.
Try building that deck, don’t hire it out,
harvest your firewood, cut that tree down,
repair you own car, learn it as you go,
read ’till your mind is always in the know,
something impressive once a year do learn,
fill time full of life, you have none to burn,
be something impressive in your kid’s sight,
teach by example the strenuous life.
And though it may seem a challenge at first,
you’ll soon find fulfillment in what you’ve earned,
that you’ve lived a real life, conquered the wilds,
not just spent your time with keyboards and dials,
true achievement fires imagination,
more than mere electronic imitations.
Too much comfort will dull a man’s sharp knife,
give it a keen edge with the strenuous life.
Canopy’s of Emotion and Consecrations of Reality
A botanical canopy of human emotion
The preservation of the wildlife inside the ocean
A consecration of sacred vows that culminate your devotion
The invitation to contemplate as you consider abstract notions
Turquoise reflections beneath an enlightened sky
The pain of the dejections that protected you from a lie
The rain clouds of perception that pierce your heart to make you cry
The unbelievable interjections of thought that constantly question why
Supernatural gifts pushing the boundaries of what we know
Factual shifts in how we represent the information we want on show
A lover lifts his head in the melted light of the afterglow
A state of constant dread as we interrupt the natural flow
Firmaments of shimmering beauty raining down from a sunlit morning
Wonderments of time unfolding before your eyes as a vision is forming
Achievements of unheard of refine only to serve as a constant warning
Of the imminent decline we’re facing when confronted with Global Warming
Divisive opinions colliding on the parliamentary floor
Incisive decisions deriding as we wonder what all this conflict is really for?
Indecisive teenagers contriving their image while they’re constantly seeking more
Derisive divisions forming at the Presidents front door
A culmination of considerations that challenge the status quo
An invocation of alliteration as we express more than we think we know
A consummation of deliberation as we form conclusions that just won’t go
A formation of imitations as we reveere those who rose above the low
Don’t perpetuate the societal state of heirarchical exclusion
Or deliberate on what we venerate to reduce the mass confusion
While we consummate the virtues we rate that break through the universal delusion
We invigorate the fierce debate that seeks to eviscerate illusion