Short Replicas Poems

A
plaster
happening-
cake to make you
drool


Cheescake from Javatime
by Claes Oldenburg...

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stable
 stuffed
&soft
    happenings
in space

replicas
    galvanised
to
awaken
  sensitivity
    to life...

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SHADES
collective
   replicas
of wonderment
coloured
 enhancing
a renaissance
 of
 a familiar
   presence
 a phase
of intimate
detail
 surrounding
 the
creative
  mind...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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....

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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...

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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...

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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....

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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....

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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...

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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...

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