Long Replaced Poems

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Memories - Plagued by Memories

Memories
The happy ones are sad
The sad ones hurt
Ones that leave doubt lingering about
Memories of pain that drives you insane
Memories.

I think of happy moments and want to go back
I try to make the best of my life
But the best times seem to only exist in the past

Sometimes memories of hate invade
I remember the words of those who hurt me
The things they said that I know weren’t true
But the feeling of betrayal still remains the same

And then there are ones I try hardest to forget
The painful memories that scar me with regret
Haunting my mind as they lurk in the shadows
Whispering images that leave me sorrow

Memories
Painful and cruel
Bringing heartache and heartbreak
Reminding you of the laughter 
Replaced with disaster
Memories.


Family

Family
What day did the word family leave the vocabulary?
Family a simple word with so much meaning or so I always thought. It seems as though that simple word is long forgot or maybe its just replaced by others were have got.  Perhaps it has no purpose and died with those of long ago. I ponder where that simple word went and had left me perplexed to this day. Did it slowly leave with ancestors of old or when people began to think that others had more meaning? Does the word have any value I really have to question when I look at how society there seems to be no understanding. Rarely is there mother, father and children all together instead mother's became single mom's, fathers referred to as baby daddies and children are caught in between with no sense of family as far as they have seen. As they grow becoming adults on their own most will have no clue who family even is. With the occasional holidays, funerals and special occasions the word family is short lived and again becomes obsolete. 
Maybe it's just my wish or glimmer of hope that the simple word has not completely died, but needs the reassurance that ones family is simply hiding inside waiting for that moment to come back alive.

To the Day

To the day – welcome!
Though it may appear the same, it is not.
Each day, each moment is new and unspent
cling to it, hold it tight for it will never return.
once passed, it is lost forever and will not be repeated.
But for now – it is here!
Live it, breathe it, hold it close with every breath, for it lives
And in its own life, it will become a memory to relish and recall in time.

To the day – thank the Creator for it,
Take in each singular, solitary second
Make it part of your awareness, your thought process –
For in a moment, it is gone with all that made it what it is, what it was –
But wait for it – 
the next second, the next thought, the next breath of being 
will also be unmatched and un-repetitious.
This life passes all too quickly, so make the most of it –
	Live, Love, Linger in the moment
For  all that is – will never be again
And in our lives, all our nows shall fade away in vague memories.

To the day – be true to yourself, your dreams, your beliefs –
Never be more than who you are - for you alone are you
And cannot be replaced nor matched.
Live long and prosper.
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Living Off Death, Part I

I sometimes hear people complain
of all the things we eat,
getting really hung up about
the consumption of meat,
Most are caught up in their feelings,
thus not worth talking too,
a few will try to reason out
some kind of point-of-view.
They’ll say they don’t want to be part
of bringing death or pain,
as if they will get virtue points
for choosing to abstain,
but when I think more about it
the whole things falls apart,
when it comes to how we survive
I don’t know where to start,
perhaps with a quite simple claim
to which the truth attests:
That every single man alive
was born to live off death.

Is not a farmer a killer
of every crop he plants?
You pull a carrot from the ground,
the carrot plant is damned.
Every time you cut down that wheat
you risk killing the grass,
and each potato you dig up
bring death to the plant fast.
And every piece of fruit you pluck
is a tree abortion,
you want to eat without killing?
I say it can’t be done.
Plowing a field will slaughter all
the mice, and moles, and bugs,
also chews up their earthly homes,
all the lairs they’ve dug.
Even clearing a field itself
brings death on a grand scale,
the trees and critters now displaced,
most could not even wail;
All replaced for a single plant,
it’s corn supremacy!
Which cannot live without man’s help,
unlike the now-dead tree.
Unless you’re eating salt alone
I’d say it’s a fair bet,
that just like every man that eats,
you’re living off of death...

CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Asinine

Asinine 
The Poem 

Spit and glue
Tape on glasses
Lace on wrinkled rumps 
Lipstick on lizards
Ants in bee-hives
Parties in the cemeteries
Toothfairy bank robbers
Dunces in libraries.

Rhymes on caution signs
Large Letters for the deaf 
and hearing aids for the blind-
          Asinine.
I think, to see a cripple crabs with crutches,
bow-legged spiders with a pigeon toe-ed cat.
Or a knock-knee-ed rabbit- with a Multi-Colored Bat 

Apes eating hor devours
Amish wearing Hats no-more

Imagine the scenic scene 
That we would see-
If the Sky replaced the sea- 

Spit and Glue will never do-Spit 
won't do, when you need glue.

Dressed to kill with taped up glasses,Lace on strippers
with wrinkled rumps 
It's a crazy poem but I really feel
You should never read rhymes on  caution signs.


CAUTION

Look up here
have no fear – 
There have been 
twenty-six 
accidents right here- 
When you slow up 
to read this rhyme
you may get hit 
from behind
cross the white 
line and smash 
over the medium


Premium Member A Flash of Dead Light

A cry in the night
A flash of dead light
A fools broken heart
A life torn apart

To live again free
To feel love like you and me
When life doesn’t understand
Why they feel so lost in this land

Respect is now due
Respect and dignity through and through 
For what they’ve been through
For me and for you

Our nightmares come and go
Our dreams live constantly enough though
But the darkness in their hearts 
Can’t be replaced now when they need a fresh start

For what is it they’ve done?

Foe what is it we may ask?

We are get taken to task
We all work hard to live life
We give all to our children our husbands and our wives
We work hard for our nice lives

But what they’ve given some don’t see
This truly astounds me!
For no matter how hard this civilian life may be

Our soldiers fight professional killers so we can live free.

Chasing Time

Chasing after tomorrow, 
trying to catch a break 
Wish for an answer, doing 
whatever it would take 
Listening to time pass, 
counting every minute 
Racing every second, in 
hoping I then can win it 
Need to leave yesterday’s 
sorrows so far behind 
Hoping I get the chance 
to trick never ending time 
Touching tomorrow when I 
think I have, it gets away
Moving past the sands of time, 
to a brand new day
Midnight approaches, 
as seconds slowly tick by 
Waiting and watching, 
I’ll be here awaiting a reply 
11:59:45 I reach out, 
stretching my fingertips
The hands of time hit 
12:00:00 then it eclipses 
Like Alice I start falling, 
into times grinning face 
It smiles laughing at me 
as it’s then replaced
Back to today again,
 I was a half second away 
Here I’m watching times 
hands and it’s display
Form: Rhyme

I Woke Up a Woman

I woke up this morning
To quite a surprise
I had a 42 chest
And round shapely thighs

The hair on my face
Had been replaced
With voluptuous lips
And rosy red cheeks

Guess all the dreaming of women
That I always do
Went straight to my head
And changed a thing or two

I went to the mirror
As every man would
And thought to myself
That I look pretty good

So I searched my wife's closet
Found a little red dress
Nothing to fancy
But enough to impress

Off of the hanger
I pulled it down
Then headed out the door
For a night on the town

Dinning and dancing
In all the places I'd been
I break a few hearts
Cause I don't really like men

I tried to explain
That I woke up this way
Neither delusional nor crazy
And certainly not gay

I'm just thinking I think
Of women most all the time
It must have swirled in my head
Till my body fell into line

I'm not really sure
What I'm going to do
But enjoy being pretty
For a moment or two

Just when my wife
Was warming up to the idea
I woke up again
But this time back to a man

The one thing I learned
Out of all this craziness
Is I look good in red
So I'm keeping the dress

First She Loved a Tree

I would not blame you. 
Everyone has own freedom to judge according to one's own intellect.
Blamegame is just a waste of time there. Wastage of energy and time.

I love you when you really try to understand. 
It rarely happens, and I do not want to make it a habit of mine.

"What is wrong?", You sounded calm and curious.

It's a conceptual question which is tangling me with my whole life 
And leaving me nowhere but feeling angry.
I am feeling helpless and hopeless with my bundle of emotions. 

People loved people. People faught against people. 
People preached. People caused bloodshed. 
It is all about people.
Good people, bad people. It is all about them.

They died.Time replaced them with another set.
And the setting continued.

And I felt this diffused, clouded smoke of thoughts
Is almost bursting my head, bursting my brain. 
The same brain which loved to think, "First she loved a tree."

"What happened?" You asked again.

"Nothing." I kissed you gently."Good night."
 I did not feel like talking.

 Round Rock, Texas, 11-3-2019

Making Snow Angels In the Snow

Free from the frigid grip of winter's blow  
we enter a time of hay fevers and colds
Though April showers help the flowers grow  
they can be unkind, to creaky bones of old 

The frosty cheeks of children everywhere 
are pinned against a dirty window pane 
The pristine snow of white has lost its glare 
replaced by icky puddles and wet terrain 

Spring, ...its not all about roses and shine
there are days when it rains and pours all day 
She weaves herself around winter's entwine 
and often leaves the earth too damp for play 

I rather be making snow angels in the snow
then waiting and watching, for flowers to grow 

Feb 24, 2023
Sponsor	Michelle Faulkner
Contest Name	Spring Is Not All
Form: Sonnet

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