Long Replacement Poems
Long Replacement Poems. Below are the most popular long Replacement by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Replacement poems by poem length and keyword.
Only two sexes?
A ring on the door his replacement was there
a pleasant little man thoroughly mixed in the multi-colour brew
The person who brought him looked like a woman who
was in the middle of a transition to a third sex,
gave him an airline ticket to Iceland.
Why Iceland? he asked because the volcanic island is full
of people addressing each other, as miss and mister
you will like it there it also has naturally heated pools
and changing room for the two sexes, she said.
Iceland has a mall population where everybody reads
And too often, write when not going to the heated pools.
Five hundred thousand books a year are published there
and since everybody knows one another, it is problematic
to be critical, however, there is a small clique of intellectuals
who, to avoid upsetting anyone writes about movies
especially, French and German experimental films.
Iceland has a stunning, almost magical nature, alas, not
often seen by the Icelanders, who are busy writing books
spend much of the time writing books in well-heated rooms
thanks to the volcanic activities that produce hot water
in the radiators.
Hush, don’t disturb us with obscene dancing in the street
bongo drums are against the law.
The publisher of Roald Dahl’s books
Thought changes should be made
To make the books “inclusive,”
But attention has been paid
With many writers speaking out
To criticize the plan
(Despite the fact that Dahl’s ideas
Made many not a fan).
An example that I read of
Would remove the use of “fat”
If a character was overweight –
Now what’s the use of that?
What they’d substitute, I wonder;
Still, most children are aware
Of dishonesty in writing
As in life, which isn’t fair.
Yet another word replacement
Would be “parent” used instead
Of both “mother” and of “father,”
If one’s gone – divorced or dead.
Or if someone has two mommies
Or two dads, perhaps they mused
That by substituting “parent,”
Kids would not then be confused.
Still, a writer’s words are sacred
And reflective of the times,
Therefore, posthumous replacements
Feel like literary crimes.
Now the publisher’s decided,
After unexpected flak,
There’ll be two competing versions,
Which, to me, seems out of whack.
Achieve more than ever believed
newfound respect you’ll receive
the mock become your flock
admiration in their shock
ignored you when you contact
now instantly they'll get back
were always looking to show you up
used to say try to suck less
now they look to show you off
in awe of your success
If you hide in shadows
enjoying my dark days
laugh me a saddo
enjoying my heartache
jump a bandwagon
disloyal and farce mate
a lack of compassion
unconcern my starved state
partly enjoying my misery
small incident from our history
been waiting for what you see
blind notice pain reality
Say I need to be stronger
though I surge at my strongest
and still it goes on longer
don’t encourage me contest
suggestions my weakness
and how you could beat this
all the while I sleep much less
your ego weak too resist
Then you walk the bridge as it burn
build no replacement, walk no return
no longer is there a respect to earn
you show me a lesson, one I learn
I pass a doorman daily
When I’m finishing my walk.
He calls out, “How you doing, ma’am?”
But we don’t really talk.
Of course, I say good morning
And perhaps a word or two
Is exchanged about the weather;
More than that, we don’t pursue.
In December, he went missing,
A replacement at the door.
Was he sick or maybe fired?
Those sweet greetings were no more.
Then a week or two ago, voila!
He waited with a smile
And the friendliest hello I’ve heard
In much too long a while.
Where’ve you been? I had to ask him
With no explanation owed me
But he grabbed his phone and pictures
Of his newborn daughter showed me.
I was touched and wished him all the best
And he was all a’glow
As we shared a special moment
Though our names we do not know.
Are we again confusing Appeasement with Compassion?
And is our selfishness and greed,
Letting fear and hatred through the door,
To blind us to any difference between the two.
Have we not been down this road before?
Does not Compassion paint fear and hatred out of the picture,
And Appeasement draw it back in.
Is not Compassion born out of a Love,
Devoid of fear, with no place for Hatred to gain a foothold,
And Appeasement born out of a fear,
That leaves a trail for hatred to follow.
Does not Compassion give us our best chance to get on with those on
The opposite side of the fence,
And does not Appeasement embolden them to push us to the brink of a war,
Where hatred will know no bounds if one day we find ourselves,
In a fight to the death.
Does not Compassion show up as a strength that will beget
Us the respect that will stop the bulge in the fence,
Does not Appeasement make us look,
Weak and contemptable, from the other side of the fence,
With no respect due to us,
And fenceposts being ripped up the likely result.
As we sit on the side-lines wringing our hands
Watching the bullies and thugs taking Centre stage,
Our appetite for appeasement,
Showing no sign of slowing down.
Will our children still Respect us,
And show us a little compassion,
Or will our replacement of Compassion with Appeasement,
Make them join the Bullies and Thugs
Who seem to be on the winning side.
Though things look grim,
I can see enough lights still on
And my hopes are still high,
That Compassion will win out,
Faith will be restored,
And the chance of war will recede,
With more gates appearing along the fence lines.
Salvation in an App Store?
By Mark D. Stucky
Google Maps won’t work
for the way I feel lost.
Is there a salvation app
I can install on my phone
to download redemption today
and upload my soul when I die?
Since there are apps
for everything in life,
why not also an app
to access the afterlife?
Is there a spiritual map to the Pearly Gates in Heaven
that also includes a free ticket for effortless admission?
Can an app act as replacement
for tear-permeated repentance?
Can I install a cheap-grace app
without costly discipleship?
I don’t want to pick up a cross and follow Jesus.
I just want to pick up my phone and stream salvation.
I want Jesus joyous in my app.
I don’t want him hungry and thirsty.
I don’t want him sick and in prison.
I don’t want him naked and a stranger.
I don’t want hillside sermons on social justice.
I just want smiling faces and shining crosses.
I haven’t found salvation
in any app store so far.
If you find that elusive app,
will you please send me the link?
(First published in Soul-Lit, Summer 2023. See also my poems “Missing: God Incarnate,” “The Ascension (with Rewrites),” and “God’s on Mute.”)
(The image is a collage created by the author from multiple images.)
A piece to heart
BY:KHANYA
ive found my own,
alone
leaving my heart in shambles dark in the cold
as i was told,
that love is a place where you’d find peace and
yet i believed otherwise because i was crossed so many
times
but this time i thought of you and i wanted
nothing but to be loved by you
to be seen , understood and yet, words and their meanings could never define
a soul so divine and at that time i knew
the world was mine and yet so fine
i fell in love with you before i touched you
somehow i was touched by the soul that attracted
mine into deeper depths of human invention
not knowing you would be mine to mention
and yet your beauty covers every interaction
ive had with any human
feeling they’ll never be worth my attention
and you had fixed me ,
i the walking contradiction
and yet one text from you pulls my heart a step
closer to my chest like some force of attraction
i love you and yet love is just an understatement
until i find the correct replacement
so for now i’ll accept that my soul falls deeper for you
every second of the day
They are too foggy,
Dreams, visions, etc.;
I don’t know, I don’t remember,
but o’ wait!
Yes, a distinct memory.
I started remembering words
hoarse, dry words mixed
with the lemonade air.
a conversation?
The smell of heated leather
chains me to the patio
where the goddess sits.
I have lost faith in her,
no longer a goddess
but my birthmother.
The second person in this conversation.
'Bitter sweet or sweetly bitter',
asking the nicotine-filled air.
A head emerges through the smoke,
mingling with the lesser being.
She exhales pure ash
and stares, ocean to mildew eyes.
‘Bitter sweet.’
Why, I ached to ask her
but it refused to come out,
my lips a graveyard.
Fruit trees,
beautiful ones.
Aristaeus but never Eileithyia,
my mother.
Leaves and Vines blend with the
anger that my mother had,
not anymore
malt as its replacement.
I wanted to try her cigarette,
the one kissed tenderly by her two lips now.
My fingers turn
black.
Black as black can be,
emission at the seams of my nails
up to the pretty blonde strands of my mother’s hair.
I wonder, lips formed
to ask, maybe.
‘Mascara,’ she answers,
knowing the question
before it escaped my tongue
and ventured into her ears.
Because we are entwined, now,
black and volcanic
two minds, one body
no
two bodies, one mind.
I wince,
the band-aids refuse to help;
including the Arnold ones
I used to put on myself.
Bittersweet.
My cuts grow bigger
until it resembled the cracks of the earth;
and ate my blue bike
and the ghost house I used to live in,
her being the one to haunt them.
‘You blame,’
who says.
‘You lie,’
says the other.
Not a conversation anymore,
but furious eruptions,
ruinous pertinence.
It was calamitous and vulgar,
glorious culmination,
as it destroyed everything;
leaving nothing but cinder,
carried by the wind
up into the lemonade sky.
Spare tire is kept available
As an urgent need replacement
To a dead flat rubber cushion
Of a wagon off the pavement.
A spare tire is an excess fat
Around someone's heavy waistline;
If girl gets rid of this thickness,
Then her figure shall be just fine.
Spare tire is an unneeded or
Unproductive and rude person;
Unhelpful to the guild or group,
His life is brought to oblivion.
Spare tire is a male or female
That you gladly carry with you
On dinner date to rely on
If the meeting sadly falls through.
Carried in cars all of the time,
Full of air that doesn't expire;
It‘s important to be having
An extra or a new spare tire.
Fanta Fanta Fanta
I like Fanta
Flavors galore but Orange I like best
does not mean I do not enjoy the rest
Fanta soda bubbly fun
even better if you share one
Not bad for a Nazi drink
came a long way don't you think
Fanta fantastic and delicious both
nothing like a cold one for a toast
Germans replacement for Coca Cola
WW II band coke syrup, needed new soda
So Germans made Fanta brand
Hitler loved it born by his command
When war was over Coke found out
Fanta was theirs and used their clout
To fold Fanta into the Coca Cola brands
and brought it home to USA land
Fanta for fantastic shorten name
it's great taste brought soda fame
Fanta Fanta Fanta
I like Fanta
Fanta Fanta Fanta
I like Fanta...