Short Replicas Poems
Short Replicas Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Replicas by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Replicas by length and keyword.
SHADES
collective
replicas
of wonderment
coloured
enhancing
a renaissance
of
a familiar
presence
a phase
of intimate
detail
surrounding
the
creative
mind
The sightless sky
Walks into the blind night
I share your dreams
You are welcome to die in
My mkhukhu in mahikeng
Mkhukhu:human dumping grounds called houses by the south african government. the worst replicas of the favelas in brazil
resplendent
astonishing
brooding
postures
in
replicas
visions
exceedingy
sweet
of
desire
in
provocative
innuendo
of
implicit
ecstasy
a contraversial
temerity
of
sensibiities
laid
bare
AFFECTIONS
unrequited
a
recognisable
resemblance
in
unfinished
replicas
mystery&
curiosity
emanates
in
an
element
of
renown
&slender
beauty
a
distinct
yet
indescribeable
aura
indictive
of despair
accumulates
out of proportion
PROVISO
atmosphere
still &calm
a source
of light
exquisite
elegant
unprecedented
anticipated
intriguingly
the
quietude:
is more perplexing
mysterious
& elusive
shadowy
minimalist
meditative
moody
in
a sense of stillness
&
melancholy
concepts
replicas
yet
different
yet
tantalising
&
haunting
An amazing structure stands for centuries.
Icon of France in Paris, the Eiffel Tower.
Gem of the paintings, portraits and poetries.
An amazing structure stands for centuries.
To feel its beauty, replicas in many countries.
Stands tall to enhance the tourism power.
An amazing structure stands for centuries.
Icon of France in Paris, the Eiffel Tower.
- S. D. Tiwari
Perhaps the Rose best
define itself? Lord knows
I have tried and failed
miserably! Unable to
live up to such sublime
fragrance, captivating
textures and enchanting
colors—singular for
each, while my replicas
are by the millions; just
recite our poetry if in
doubt.
No! I can read your beauty;
cultivate and reveal--
but as God decrees of all
only we
can write
our own.
Cast be thy fate to live in exile
Bated be your fair fluffed fleece
Face of said avenue beguiled
Ebbed a carmine masterpiece
Ebony landscapes you adorn
The eyes of thousands you have hooked
Whines sharp replicas of thorns
Question mark shaped be such nooks
Appeased the ice queen had appeared
Fabricating jagged thrills of mirth
A concept quite eerie, yet linear
'Til done apart by spineless dearth
The nephrite syndrome.
I will not change the?
calculus, to find the truth
of the flesh.
The paid price of chemistry
will make history. If
you can stop the blitz?
of the replicas.
It ends like a fire, without
ashes. The limbs check
the fall. Across the river
an isle erupts.
The prisoner at last escapes,
from the procession of profanities.
You are finally liberated,
releasing the lost poem.
Satish Verma
Duck has been around eight years.
We call her “Baby” though.
A stuffed duck with a broken neck.
No longer squeaks. Ratty fake fur.
One eye.
We figured out seven years ago
It would be wise to purchase a spare duck.
We purchased two of them. Exact replicas.
The dog will have nothing to do with either.
When she loses Duck for weeks, we try, to no avail.
Duck is her baby.
When we say “where is your baby?” she brings Duck.
Like a toddler, this dog.
My body tells the story of four billion years of living, of thriving, of flourishing. Each chapter a tale of surviving long enough to create another generation—replicas nearly the same, save a random change, a chance. The risk taken was a risk rewarded. Another day, another generation to watch the sun rise. Every body tells this intertwining story, written as every branch of every vein, tree, and river. Four billion years.
The oldest story told.
the unreal
the unconscious
with
inner depth
a
fantasy
in a
vertical focus
of
improvised memory
a significance
of
perfect synthesis
in a glance
of genius
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
Life after People
Continues to go on
Judging from how We keep
At it, until the break of dawn
Having One relationship after
Another, and Many a spawn
Who'll grow into Adulthood
From a baby or a fawn
Only to repeat the Circle of Life
By, leaving footprints, on the lawn
Creating replicas of Ourselves
To keep Us to Our Loved Ones drawn
Although, We long to bring them back
With a Magic wand
So, We won't have to deal with the reality
Of Them, being gone