Replicate Poems | Examples

Poetry In Ai Conundrum

A new sun has arisen in the dawning literary sky,
the poetry horizon is illumined by the flash of Ai.
Novel ideas and stylistic stimulation the poets get
from metaphoric spectrum of the sun that doesn’t set.

Experimenting with different poetic forms Ai is free
to motivate new perceptions for innovative poetry.
Choosing Ai as creative collaborator poets may flock
when they need help to overcome the writer’s block.

The delicate domain of human emotions in Ai is hollow,
making its structured poems seem artificial and shallow.
Devoid of life skills it lacks human feelings in the core.
So, the artistic depth of passion its essence can’t explore. 

Ai poems may replicate the existing ones with dexterity,
inviting queries about plagiarism and originality.
The poems of heart run the risk of being undermined
by Ai, overshadowing the lively reflection of the human mind.

the machine talks

the machine talks when the mind is mute-so let creativity shine

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**the ai machine eliminates imagination; it cannot replicate the feelings, emotion and soul that goes into writing poetry.
Being old school, I write to the best of my ability instead of trying to improve it by other means- or trying to outdo another writer if I think my work is inferior to theirs. To remain honest and true to myself is the best accolade.

Just A Reminder

Cherish who you are
‘cause on one can replicate
your true uniqueness.

Felix Culpa

Do you regret, when you make a mistake?
While I surely understand your concern,
do you know that you'll get an even shake,
a priceless education in return?
So, go ahead, and give yourself a break,
for it is life's fumbles that make us learn.
So say, "felix culpa" or "happy fault" -
there is no need for self-assault.

Tragically hurt, no longer content,
you find life comes without a guarantee.
All harmful things, you can never prevent.
Maybe, it is helpful for you to see
that each and ev'ry good and bad event
is the divine branching of your life's tree.
So, say, "felix culpa" or "happy fault" -
blest departures from the path of default.

When genes do not properly replicate,
It's not a problem, but a solution.
You might things it's a dirty word, "mutate",
but it's nature's brilliant contribution.
As the epochs and eons pass, just wait,
and you'll see glorious evolution.
So, say, "felix culpa" or "happy fault" -
without them, life on earth comes to a halt.

The Unexpressable

how can you really describe love?
two hearts making one connection.
opening up to each other and seeing there flaws as perfection.
man and woman in a age long game of chess,
move after move.
there is no real way of describing love, 
many have tried with paintings in the louvre.
others write poetry to try satisfy there hearts.
when you lean in for a kiss you want it to last forever, 
that moment is our heaven on earth,
which is something we all endeavour.
when they lay there hand in yours you never want to let them go,
there is no way for science to replicate that experience.
and what about when you loose your touch of your heaven,
are you supposed to love someone else?
the promises made in the passion of our intimacy.
some find someone new, others wonder how they show such simplicity.
living with the burden of hope,
fully engrossed by love.
its the one thing on this earth no one can explain, 
i can only tell you about the experience.
but to actually feel it, is profound. 
crazy how eyes can seem so beautiful, 
in them is where love is found.
i may never let go of you,
so i guess i will just have to enjoy the view.

Worship in Darkness

Can your prayers not take flight, 
Try the darkness in absence of light, 
Pitch so dark you can only see thought, 
Now begins what needs to be taught, 
Resonance of the pitch you need to replicate, 
Variables of emotion will flow from love to hate, 
Focus on the presence filling your lung, 
A slight presence will sound as though a bell rung, 
Worldly troubles will begin to dissipate, 
A conversation with God you can now create, 
He is your Father so just talk with Him, 
It doesn't have to be prepared just on a whim,
The closer you get the better it'll be, 
Goal in this relationship is harmony, 
Sit with God and enjoy this time,
Worship in darkness can be sublime.

The Danger of Perfection

The creator stepped back from the painting
realizing that he had shaped
something outrageously perfect.

Slowly he understood
that all else now would be
just a prelude or a footnote to this.
There would be no sequel.

His elation soon led to gloom.
What was he thinking, drinking, or smoking,
when perfection bloomed under his fingers?

He tried to replicate that magic moment,
but that inspired instant always alluded his grasp.

In the end, he let the canvas and the light
take the credit,
he was merely the hand that held the paintbrush,
but what held his hand?

After much meditation he dropped the brush.

HeART

To behold an individual’s artistic creation is to see their heart and soul displayed, raw to the world. How selfless and valiant to bare all of oneself through whichever medium your hands have chosen to find solace in. It is to open up your heart and your mind and project the core of that which is entirely and irrevocably YOU. It is your inimitable emotional fingerprint on the world. No one can ever replicate it in its entirety. To speak from the heart in art, music, literature? Oh, what unparalleled beauty.

attempting to learn bird speak

bird-speak is inexplicably complicated
I try to imitate it, but unsuccessfully
it is impossible without a beak
a mouth cannot replicate these sounds
I dare not try to decipher their meaning
without benefit of mimicry

The Troll

Hunchbacked in a room, typing electric spells of doom,
breathing out fire, an alchemy of pain, suffering and desire.

Filtered beauty but oh, beneath, lies green skin and poisonous teeth,
with claws replaced by keyboard, where online posts replicate sword.

Eyes glassy, red with ire and fatigue; hate is sport, pole position in the league:
a troll swallowing prey in gigabytes whole; their innocence lost, our youth stole.

Mirrored Canvas

If only you could see me, like the way I see you..
I've been around a long time, I have an insight view.
Your journey has been long, and full of ups and downs..
I know.. because I've been here.. I've always been around.

Your picture perfect canvas, may fool them from the start..
But I see right through you,  your cold inside your heart.
Everytime you reflect, your secrets are deep within..
What you project on the outside is mask of evil sin.

I replicate your visage, and the essence you imbue..
Unmasking every deceit, and every hidden hue.
You've gazed at your reflection as I've looked back at you..
Your mirror is the portal to all Karma overdue.

Fresh Poetry Soup, Part II

I like my soup fresh.
Not that stuff from cans or dried-up in packets.
Soup needs time to simmer ...
Releasing savory ingredients from around the world
That recipes intend to convey.
Impossible to replicate, exactly,
As the Chef would want or hope.
But sharing is essential. We do the best we can.
Expressing our inner selves
With a little more of this or a little less of that.
Each creation a bit different or something completely new.
My taste buds love surprises!
So many flavors from every edge of the globe.
An Art that will never be extinguished or fade away.
You and I are a rare commodity.

Thank you for letting me sit at your round table.
And you'll always be welcome at mine.

Frankenstein or His Monster?

We know the dire story of Jekyll and Hyde
Where a man’s potion made his nature divide.
In real life, it’s not easy to separate
Ourselves like eggs and potatoes on a plate.
If man is made in God’s image, then it’s fate
That God has some evil, and men replicate.
Everyone, everywhere, has a bit of both -
There’s evil in us all, a cancerous growth.
You might look at yourself and ponder on, sir,
Which is Frankenstein and which is the monSTER?

surely you can replicate them

I wrote six poems in my car on my way to school
Put my phone on record, which is my general rule
It only picked up about half of what I said
I am irritated now, for these were the best in my head

Surely you can replicate them said a non-writer
He’s lucky that I have no weapons and am not a fighter.
His attitude irritated me all the way to Albany and back.
I lamented to my animals, Big Bone and Little Merry Mack.

Night and War

Ominous echoes 
hush the song of eternity.

Sky is an ember:
Black and red and untouchable.

Night extends 
Till day seems impossible.

Echoes stab the night
Till it crumbles over our heads.

The air bleeds.
The eyes fall shut

Seeking an escape,
Yet the violent glares blind.

Merciless glares replicate;
The night is darker than ever.

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