Quotes about replicate, page 4
Masked
The skin is just a mask of flesh and bones
To be judged by its color of the outer look
Naked eyes can measure forms and hones
But blind to the soul living within this look
A smile can pretend to mask pain and sorrow
But it can capture and tame a genuine friend
To eye of one's image from head down to toe
It's as silly as a mindful-tongue that's unkind
A mirror can replicate the truest picture of us
But too mute to speak of what's hidden behind
Expensive clothes worn to cover a hairy ass
Serve same purpose as of that second hand
A blanket may hold us from cold in winter time
In a house, small or big, shielding us from rain
But what is a home if ugly souls are living in
To torment a mind to spawn again and again
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poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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Rulers of The Heavens
Definite and distinct is the trail,
Pioneered by a preservative persistence...
Often followed to replicate,
In hushed formulated seductions.
Conveniently renamed and claimed,
As fresh productions.
To triumph a hollow gain of fame...
Within diminished mindsets obtained.
And just specks are we,
In a massive Universe existing.
Left to be defined by scientists renown...
To announce their latest discoveries found.
Sit we do in a stew swirling majestically.
Undoubtedly a phenomenon...
Beyond depictions of eternity,
Limited by time the human mind can see.
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That Will or Can Replicate the Doing
This may be traumatic.
But those possessing intelligence,
Are not of your creation.
No scholars you determine...
And selected to roam the halls of ivy.
May be ill equipped,
To handle common sense.
Leather bound books,
May encase what you feel is brilliant
Based upon what you declare...
Reflects an exclusive experience.
To be then induced and reproduced.
To recreate your version...
Of majestic mountains,
And the air we breathe allowed by trees.
This may be traumatic.
But those possessing intelligence,
Are not of your creation.
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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O Black Woman, Dance!
I have kept them in awe-shrowded gaze
Austere ebony writhe in gold diaphanous silk
Whet by steady hisses from the musician's strings
Brunette, long and lean woman- like hausa goat
Let drums and flutes guide your feet
To sensational display
Jocund fancy wrapped in African beauty
O black woman, dance
Turn and twist
Beauteous ripples to magnify your tone
As the land's music peppers the mind
Flaunt your well-weaved 'koroba' and dance
Your 'alari' will suffice, will adorn your will
O black woman, dance
Stride far from ambience and sift
Your fellow women's noises- whether of jilt or eulogy
Here we drum, listen coldly
Sway as the blown palm tree in goldness
And muddled murram beneath your soft fine feet
O black woman, dance the dance of spirits
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poem by Oludipe Samuel
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No Guarantee
The only guarantee is,
There is no guarantee.
The manual is missing.
Only issued with one set of everything.
A Guaranteed obsolescence,
Built in redundancy.
A no return policy
Once it has left the factory,
Its cord severed it cannot be exchanged.
This does not affect your statutory rights.
Nonetheless most problems,
Any damage done,
Or injury inflicted,
The unit will self repair.
However any parts which go missing
Sadly, cannot be replaced,
As there are no spares available
So please look after it.
It can however self replicate
If joined with another unit
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poem by Paul Brookes
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Moral Plight
Men are facing a moral plight, confronted by the deeds of night,
Throughout the land, even by us, who in God have put their trust.
We’re far beyond a moral decline, as Satan attempts to redefine,
Men’s moral attitudes and ways, while he darkens our final days.
Suggesting moral openness, in forsaking God’s Righteousness,
Counterfeiting things that are right, with his tainted spiritual light,
When they are not right at all, but the sin created by Adam’s fall,
Sin Satan continues to replicate, so all deception will perpetuate.
Deceiving multitudes every day, to leave Christ’s untainted way,
The only way that leads to life, away from all that immoral strife.
Amorality is all that’s preached, while closed hearts are reached,
A faith to include everyone, who stands opposed to God’s Son.
Some suggest, there is no sin, and God, in all things, lies within,
And that the Cross of Calvary, by us, is preached unnecessarily.
For this Truth of God they despise, believing man alone is wise,
And that none are spiritually lost, so want to rid us of the Cross.
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poem by Bob Gotti
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Syndicated Emotions
Go ahead:
Laugh laugh laugh.
It's all so funny.
Doesn't it remind you of home?
Doesn't it remind you of that one time?
It was like
Yeah, it was like
A similar something
I don't remember,
But I'm sure mom and pop have done things like that before.
Man, it's amazing how they replicate my life,
But, oh, wow, it's so much more engrossing.
More than likely well-written.
So I just:
Clap clap clap,
Opening a can of applause
For them to fork out onto my proverbial plate
Of the senses.
It's such a good time.
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poem by Tim Stensloff
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None That We Deemed Qualified
When an environment sustains,
An on the verge of 'potential' level and remains there...
With few gains developed to move forward for decades.
And stays unchanged and stagnant...
As if in a holding pattern awaiting to land.
While seen behind the scenes are discovered...
Those chosen and recommended,
And employed to be the best of innovators...
Overheard in their debates,
What they believe it will take to benefit the environment.
With a diversity much like that which is enjoyed,
And found in their suburban communities.
To produce within an urban center to replicate 'their' comforts.
At the expense of destroying the flavor and relocating the people,
Who created the popularity of the environment in the first place.
With a luxurizing done believed to appeal to those seeking,
Bits and teases of variety, a few ethnic faces and a cultural display...
Of diverse and accepted cuisine.
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Short Story of the HIV
A Retrovirus threatens man,
Whose youth dare risk their lives sometime,
By indulging in unsafe sex,
Earlier in life than expected!
The young adults affected, die
Early in life, than most others!
Their partners get the virions,
Through heterosex and homosex!
Some get the virus through blood route:
Infected blood, I V drug use;
Some mothers pass virus to babes
Through placental route, while in womb!
The virus once within body
Enter immunocytic types
And replicate within such cells,
And killing them, before they leave!
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poem by John Celes
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Sestina: A bird in the bamboo
The potter carried home a broken plate
and passing through a grove of tall bamboo,
some thing within disturbed the verdant sheen.
Intrigued, he stopped awhile to rest and wait.
A bird shot skyward, straight as arrow true,
turned somersaults and plunged back into green.
The bird had left the safety of the green,
to see from high the land as coloured plate.
An overview, to give perspective true.
Imprint in mind a map of home's bamboo
and then to hide and rest in patient wait,
before an insect hunt by thin moon's sheen.
The potter's wife delighted in the sheen,
of jagged shards of crackle-glazed jade green.
With supper not quite ready, while he wait,
he set about to mend the shattered plate.
When laid beside their wares of plain bamboo,
it's beauty shone and both declared this true.
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poem by Diane Hine
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