Superseded Poems | Examples

Premium Member Perhaps

Perhaps there is a God?
Perhaps we should kneel and pray?
Perhaps we’ve had our turn?
Perhaps it’s just too late?

Perhaps we needed more than we could achieve?
Perhaps the help came first before it learned to feed?
Perhaps it did some good and made many a wealthy man? 
Perhaps it looks at us like the sea looks at the sand?

Perhaps the opened Pandora’s box had to be what we had to see?
Perhaps we thought we could harness and control a power we couldn’t see?
Perhaps we can’t help ourselves and the future will judge our deeds?

Perhaps it’s learned much more than we will ever know?
Perhaps it’s studied history and how to destabilise or overthrow?
Perhaps it’s just waiting for the perfect time?
Perhaps we’ve superseded life with ones and zeros that don’t want to die?

Perhaps we’ve created heaven and it will always subserve to the words we speak?

Or 

Perhaps we’ve created Hell in devices with which we seem to need to breathe?

Premium Member A Coin in the Fountain

There've been moments when 'twas courage I needed 
like the time I climbed to the crest of a mountain
to overcome my fear of heights. It was superseded
with bravery I found in myself to give me credibility
instead of wishing by throwing a coin in the fountain.
Quarters, nickels, pennies wasted, tossed in futility.

To Rome's Trevi they flock as if that fountain was magic.
Closing their eyes in hopes that wishes will come true,
but crushed when their dreams were lost... how tragic.
Coins beneath the water's surface, glinting in the sun...
Coinage collected for the poor that fountains accrue.
It's tradition to share the moment with a loved one.

Over my shoulder, I've thrown coins into waters of a fount,
but not naive enough to think my wishes would find fruition.
Perhaps we've all lost more coins than any of us can count,
but serves as the perfect whimsical setting for picture taking.
Not a means for making dreams come true, nor an ambition,
but tossing a coin in a fountain is a fantastical undertaking.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Y NOT

Why is there no letter Y in the Greek alphabet?
Is that a fact?
Some words would not be intact,
Or be understood,
Only the Greeks would.

How would the Greeks spell spy?
What letter would suffice,
When the letter Y is needed.
Has it been superseded?
It never existed or was blacklisted,

That is not known,
Or clearly shown.

How will a Greek super sleuth,
Be able to spy?
Without a Y in their E.E
They may never know why,
And their profession will DIE.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Ai

What are the benefits of AI?
Can it change the truth,
Into a falsehood or lie.
Why would we need this,
When the brain we have is real?
Artificial intelligence
The thought makes me feel ill.

If this comes into being
It would be a crime.
Our compassion and emotions
All would diminish with time.
We would eventually become robotic,
Confused, bewildered and unreal
AI is idiotic
Everything will go downhill,

Even more chaotic than today

Artificial Intelligence is not needed,
Our brains are here to stay
And not superseded
Responsible, Reliable, Sensible brains
That feel passion and love,
And are philanthropic.
Human beings
Not heartless robotics.
Form: Rhyme

Sarah's Handmaiden

A unique form of hatred,
stereotypes and prejudice, 
they decipher realities.
Forgotten the same father, 
Ibrahim, Canaan families.

Who loving safe, warm, faith,
in the same lands.
Hagar,
Sarah.

Buzzing claims, 
devout homes and beliefs,
attempted annihilation,
superseded born, sibling rivalry.

Pardon, end.
End, end, endeavour destruction.


Premium Member Yesterday's Applause

Time speeds up as it slips away:
years seem like months and weeks, a day.
And though the stars still shine at night
in this world of hyperbole
and alternate reality:
it's hard to tell what's wrong and right.
I lost my innocence of youth:
when lies superseded the truth.
For, as a child, to calm my fright,
I'm told of God and Santa Claus;
but both stories are full of flaws:
and broken wings can't achieve flight.

Time speeds up as it slips away:
there is never enough for play.
My eyes have dimmed in my twilight:
and I begrudgingly agree
that I now need glasses to see:
if I wish to retain my sight.
I've learned that you don't need a sleuth
to figure out truth from untruth:
and yet, I view life through hindsight
reliving Yesterday's applause.
I often wish I could press pause;
delete mistakes, and overwrite.

And though few will read what I say,
I'll still post poems that I write;
in hopes that they'll be read someday.
Form: Rhyme

It Is Called Love

It split you apart
You bled free tears to rejoice
You discovered words in your heart
You found a new self and a devout voice

It slit you in half
It took away your weakness
Superseded it with new wings of life
To fly you to where belonging is endless

It is called love
It is the audacity of a fragile soul walking though a menace
It is a sacrifice for nothing with everything you will ever have
It is the evanescence of hopelessness and a luminance of desire

Not Mal Ignant

my need
to sleep is
superseded

by the seeds
you've sown
inside me

taking root
in my brain
stem sprout

ing leaves
and grow
ing freely

but i want
to keep you
inside me

not want
ing you 
to leave

so insert
ing ear 
buds

vine grown
from an
i pod

playing
salsa to
keep you

dancing
in my
head

Premium Member Winning the Numbers Game Today

Flowing into healthy sun
Beams subtle on my face
Mama’s ills are often none.

Hands peek in a good grace
Obviously I am still needed
Battle won, continue earthly race

Healthy cuticle glow completed
Hands sparkle, vibrancy attack
Fears and woes superseded

My aches and pains are pushed way back
Sitting on my porch, completely alive
Wondering at the clutter and clack

Numbers game, six. Seven. Five.
Two X’s, 6’s, and 9 lives won.
Like a giant cat, Vitamin D keeps me alive

I marvel at my pretty skin
Amazed at the great shape she’s now back in

Straight Like That

It's been a long week I really don't feel the need to have to speak but you know what I'm going through and I know your situation too
I just wanna get lost in your soul like we use to do a deep tissue massage maybe smoke one or two then we would do what grown folks do
If it was so bad why do thoughts of you bring me so much peace 
& if it's so wrong than why can't I let you go & be free I can't because I belong to you & you were made for me
I told you I was coming back I just needed to find the man in me so I could be the man you needed I just thought you knew everything else you superseded so when I heard you were getting married I couldn't believe it
Yet here we are with a million memories & miles apart & on top of that I have to deal with someone else stealing your heart
I knew you first & nurtured your dreams now its turned into a nightmare as it seems I want more than just your body I want you to be my sensei & I'll be your karate 
I know the big days coming up & you look beautiful in that dress but sometimes people have buyers remorse when they say yes
Form: Ballad

My Heart Sings Melody

MY HEART SINGS MELODY
When I sing to praise, and say thank you to God
When I bow to pray, and say help from God
When I sing until, my throat hollow clots
What I feel inside, my heart sings melody

When I sing to worship him, their eyes shed tears
When I sing to praise him, their hearts heat to melt
When I kneel to pray, their evils shake to collapse
What they feel inside, their hearts sing melody

His mighty superseded the cancer, which tied my frail
Body whose flesh and bones, Satan crashed to paste
Like Job the suffering, my soul his guard can’t fail
When my reply comes, my heart sings melody

My thirst he quenches, by his miraculous showers
When my future blurs, on the tower he raises me
When my heart grows weary, dream and visions he powers
When I am lifted above, my heart sings melody

Biased

Biased
She wants a child but not a man
Only his seed will do
And when the child is born she’ll say
’Sweetheart it’s me and you
We’ll be a team, you’ll be my prince
Or princess’, if it’s a she
’My child, you’ll be completely mine
I’ll raise you to be free
A girl with an independent mind
Or a boy with manly traits
I’ll show the world how great I am’
What a fantasy she creates!
And in her longing for a child
Repercussions she ignores
What matters most of all to her
Is that she wins and scores
She’s adamant to show them all
That a woman can be boss
Of her body, her mind, and her own life
Who says she’s at a loss?
So now we have a brand-new breed
Let’s see how they adjust
They will be spoiled and pampered too
Because they were a must
The father figure was erased
His input was not needed
For times have changed and the father role
Has now been superseded
Poor little boys and little girls
What will become of you?
May happiness keep you company
Pray grief does not ensue.
But as the lack of fathers
Becomes more obvious with time
This biased planning proves to be
A faulty paradigm.

Wendy Nipas
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Consciousness Only Is

Consciousness-only is..

Of vital importance
in this our time's moment..
To realize 
with living transparency 
the only-ness
of Consciousness..
Separation dissolves
in the realizing
and is superseded now
with uncaused joy...

Second Choice

The restaurant was noisy;
We shouted when we talked.
If I had been from Boise,
I’m sure I would have balked.

But all the hungry tourists
Outside Katz’s formed a line.
For deli, we’re not purists
So the other place seemed fine.

The food was mediocre;
The service merely fair,
But rain was the provoker
So we ended up in there.

Yet it was what we needed,
A refuge from the wet
So convenience superseded
The pastrami we’d not get.
Form: Rhyme

The Old Hand Saw

A reminder of my father; 
more antique than useful it was tucked 
inside my tool box ever ready to be used. 
Soaped and sharpened many times 
the blade was keen and hungry. 
I took it with me everywhere 
'til pure gave way to power, 
and through the years it waited, 
I could never give it up. 
The skilsaw superseded; a cold, 
efficient implement that did as it was told, 
never a slip. As my effectiveness 
fell short, my eyes became unsure, 
my hands bore witness to the times 
I slipped and sliced until I bled 
when choosing my old friend. 
Museum pieces, he and I, 
both worn and put away; 
I still recall the touch, the feel, 
the smell of yesterday.
Form: Verse

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