"copycat" poems
im a self describing a self
a face on a liquid surface
a plasticity
a brain
a three pound infinity
always remodeling itself
and making new copies
a copy
of
a copy
of
a copy
a massive accumulation of copies
each a slight distortion
from it's original eminence
a history of minute alterations
all subtle deceptions
my so-called reality
a memory
of
a memory
of
a memory
a repetition pouring the self out
self corrupting the self
until it is somebody else
a fibbing shifty double-dealing soft machine
trying to remain intact
it's signature
a disjunctured awareness
my cells talk **** about each other
i'm more microbes than human
every synaptic light of the divine casting a shadowed past
a devil to the true origin
a mangled remembering
my pillar of reality
spirit from matter
not the other way around
i no longer recognize myself
am i human
or perhaps a robot
an alien
a walk in
that left the original inhabitant
disembodied
to wander perplexed in a netherworld
lost and crying
or, just a bad copy
of
a copy
of
a copy
of
a co
py
of
a
a
co
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 2:46 PM UTC
Copycat, collect the nectar,
it will optimize your splendor.
Grasping it by the gallons,
drinking poison, immune, callous,
to the pain you aligned, and profusely measured.
Fixated on this peeling label,
bend it back, are you able,
To contain symptoms as they surface?
Written down as toxic in cursive,
a sign of recovery crowned as 'fatal'
Copycat, take your weapons,
along the speckled crimson as logical 'sessions'.
Brim the shell, or remain hollow?
Graphic truth is hard to swallow,
unseen pain is being reflected-
Jun 4, 2018
Jun 4, 2018 at 11:31 PM UTC
Even the idea was worthy of a fight
and all too much preparation.
We dolled ourselves up for alienation,
even though the faces present
were so familiar and etched into memory.
Who are you Mr.Cool?
If that is your real name.
Whiskey breath and filterless smokes
only impresses the girls in the movies,
with scripts written by clueless men
like you, who can't supply injury
so they bring only insult.
You are a secretary bird,
a mime, and the copycat kid.
Trying to be a bad boy and hide
amongst the spoiled brats you claim.
Keep on burrowing and severing ties,
ravishing resources leads to ruin.
You say you've heard rumors?
Well, I've heard facts.
I've seen facts!
Your parasitic disguise will crumble
under the weight of your genuinely selfish persona.
While the company I keep will only know
the side you wished to reveal
in front of all the pretty boys and girls.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 12:04 PM UTC
Copycat, copycat.
Mimic all that I do,
Even though
you know
it's not good for you.
Copycat, copycat.
Do not be a fool.
You can fool
So many people.
But not me;
I will not drool
All over you.
Copycat, copycat.
Giveback my life.
No, I do not care if copying me is how you survive.
No, I hate you a lot... so goodbye.
Copycat, copycat.
I shouldn't call you so:
You're a ***** and I hope that you know.
I appoint you head ***** from now on.
Bam! Scram!
It's about time that you've gone.
Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 9:21 PM UTC
Hackneyed
Ruminative
Glasslike
Surfaced
Lake
Is
Never
Original
Only
Reflective
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 2:12 AM UTC
In every “Poetry Place”
There is a Copycat Corner.
We know it’s a disgrace
So here’s another “Warner”.
Why they do it I’ll never know,
Those Copier and Pasters.
Their words they seem to glow,
But they’re a bunch of Wasters.
Taking all that praise,
For stuff they haven’t written,
It seems to be a craze,
And many do get bitten.
Just Google their “fine words” or use those plagiarism sites,
And you will find the original poems
Bedecked with copyrights.
I’m sure this place just isn’t free
Of people like this,
Just look and see!!!
The Admins must get their fingers out,
And give these villainous rogues a massive clout.
Me, I will show all due diligence,
But my job here,
Is to show My brilliance.
(NOT someone else’s!).
Paul Butters
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 6:19 AM UTC
You say your original
No one like you
But then I see you with straightened hair and Uggs for shoes
You squeeze into a too small shirt
Your jeans are just as tight
You take off your glasses and get contacts
Does that seem right?
The next day I see you
Your look completely changed
Your hair is died black and your nails look the same
Since when did you wear nail polish?
This is not who you use to be
Now every time we talk
We talk about me
You say my hair would look good straightened
You tell me I should wear Uggs
You say my face would look better with make up
When I say no
You get an attitude
Because I am not a copy cat like you
I see your new friends the ones with the same shoes the same colored hair
They changed you do you care
And when did you start to swear
You are exactly like them now
Me I'm not
So I get pushed out of your best friends slot
You talk just like them
You all walk in a line
What did you think I wouldn't notice?
And act like its all fine
Snap out of it
You must be under a spell
I know you all to well
I'm not telling you to ditch them
You have new friends that fine
I’m just telling you to stop being a copycat
Its time
Not its past time but it's not expired
You need to get a grip because this is not right
This is not you
Its societies bite
It’s got a grip on you and it’s holding on tight
Stop being a copy cat be you
All you have to do is be yourself
I'm so tired of this
People dyeing
People crying all to get accepted being a copycat
Isn’t all that great
When you’re a copycat you don’t get everything as gold on a plat
To be a comply cat you cant be real
Because you feel like the it girl all the time
And its hard everyday when you have to act like you’re in a play but your not
This is real life stop living a lie
All you care about is shoes
Next it’s boos
Here comes the drugs and now you’re the person locked up
Then your rejected like a shoe that doesn’t fit
And the it girl doesn’t have it
She has no friends or so it seems
Because she can always come back to me
But you forgot that
Your forgot the lessons you learned from others
How your aunt had a kid at 14
How your sister just became mean
How your brother is hooked on drugs
And soon you will be too
It's like a loose tooth
You want it there and you don’t care if what’s next is better
Being a copycat is like a loose tooth
You need to let it fall out
Or that is what you will do
You will fall out of a great life planned for you
But I don't what you to fall I will hold on
But I’m not the strong
You need to snap out of it just like I said because
Now you wanna starve to death
Better yet you want me to too
That’s not how I roll
That’s not how I do
Because I am not a copy cat
Like you
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
Another copycat,don't do that it's all been done before and one more pretender shown the door,
swing out
swing in and another cat comes ring a ding, ding.
I need uniqueness
I want to feed on the sweetness of novelty,there seems to be less and less of that deliciousness and not much of that newness I can claim for my own,
I think I'm fading into the woodwork,full of knots and gnarlings and look at me darlings as I disappear.
No copycat here,
this is a first time,straight from the bread line into a basket case and how can I possibly face that which is new?
New is getting fewer and the few who do new don't know and never knew what few could be in this land of lots and plenty for me.
I was told that old is the new folding currency and that doesn't suit me,too many wrinkles,too many nooks and nannies with crooks,like little Bo-Peep,I wish they'd all sleep,
there is time for the sheep to try on for size,oh my dear Lion what gigantic eyes,
is that a bit new or just me cooking stew?
A copycat like folding currency folds flat and I'm having none of that,I like the chinking and clinking of real gold and that don't fold.
So beware if you share and don't credit the writer,who with meagreness in his pockets pulls his belt a bit tighter,one more notch he can't feel,,one more meal never felt in his gut,but
copycat see,copycat do,copycat never think anything new.
What are you?
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 5:13 AM UTC
inception an idea implanted in past land
passed on dark wings to grasp hold fast
in sketched out morality soul aghast
push my copycat character past fracture
spiderweb cracks in arguments made
solely of self righteous closed minded glass
however deep these malicious tendrils
slip and strangle the growing tree of
a raptured unique individuality
with perverse views of gender love equality
and views with that they do not agree
that do not conform with their conhypocrisformity
i want to be free to be free to be me
i want to find my personality
i just want love, of self, of you,
agree?
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 9:41 AM UTC
Hundreds of homes sit
Cookie cutter produced
With manicured red rose bushes
And fences painted by immigrants
The suburban white breads
Flock to these copycat communities
Eager to fit in with their pale skinned
Blue eyes babies and mother-father pair
It’s all pleasant and just a bit
Creepy; the lack of contrast
How are we to manage happiness
With such tasteless lives?
-x-
I’d like to take a hammer
To these mass produced homes
And hack their roses to mush or
Kick their fences to splinters
To make a **** original piece
No matter how bizarre or damaged
So that our skin color, our *** would be
The last thing to be seen as ‘weird’
Maybe then we’ll be content with the contrast
In a home that just breathes our presence
Even if we’re out and about; living
No part of us, even our home, will conform
To the standards of society
Nov 6, 2011
Nov 6, 2011 at 4:51 PM UTC
Jingle, jingle, Mr. Kringle
Please drop by my house.
Don’t miss it like you did last year
Don’t be that seasonal louse
That brought cheesy kinds of toys
From the local dollar store
We shopped there all the time
So we had seen them before.
I don’t want to sound ungrateful
But Action Tommy is not the same
As GI Joe. Between the two there’s
More difference than the name.
And Lego blocks fit together
To build some amazing things
Those copycat toys from Taiwan
Do not build much of anything.
Jingle, Jingle, Mr. Kringle
If you are real, please heed.
None of those toys and junk
Is really what we need.
It would be better if you could
Bring a job for my poor Dad.
Make it better than minimum, like
The one he most recently had.
And maybe a raise for Mom
Who works a full time job too.
Would a dollar an hour be such
An earth-shaking thing to see to?
So, just in general, Kringle dude,
If it wouldn’t make you awful mad
Could you twitch your nose and
Make this Christmas not be sad?
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 10:39 PM UTC
Reminding you of your childhood, how the only cutting involved was arts and crafts. How the only drug involved was to get rid of a cough. How the only imitation was of our parents and siblings for a laugh. This shell of purity and wholeness can break at any give time in someone's life, when something extravagant happens to take over the innocence.
A knife
A drug
A copycat
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 2:15 PM UTC
I stand when they stand, stretching out my legs
tired from sitting on this hard plastic for over an hour.
I look over and they are already sitting back down,
I suddenly feel silly standing
even though my name will be called in less than a minute
And I sit back down.
The second I make full contact with the seat I hear my name
I sigh, stand, and descend to the table.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 2:48 AM UTC
I read your words
And feel your emotions,
Am drawn into your worlds
And feed off your thoughts.
I'm the original copycat
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 1:21 PM UTC
When winter comes, I think of survival. I know that trying to survive consists all throughout the year, but I really sense it in winter. I am blessed. I have all the provisions--a warm place to live, adequate clothing and food on the table--though I am poor.
The 2013/2014 winter of last year was one of the worst ones on record. Polar vortex--I never even heard of such a term--but now I was stuck in one. The icy, frozen blast was relentless and wickedly dangerous, the snow practically endless. This year is not a copycat version, but the arctic blasts have come to remind me of how fragile that existence can be, that survival isn't a guarantee but more of a privilege. That is why the world needs to be interconnected to make it, as opposed to each man out for himself. Survival--I never take it for granted.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
When I get close to people,
I tend to overshare.
especially when I spot a shared interest.
You’re into cheesy memes?
I’ll flood your inbox with my favorites
You like scary things?
Even if I’m not always into them
I’ll find the ones I do like
thinking you’ll appreciate them too
But lately,
I’ve started to think...
maybe people don’t like this.
Because over time
they start to drift away.
It stings to be labeled a copycat
When all I've ever wanted is friendship
People close to me that I can be open with.
Maybe I'm meant to float alone
Like a golden jelly,
I should make my own pattern.
Aug 8, 2024
Aug 8, 2024 at 5:23 AM UTC
Original thought is not knocking at my door. It seems there's very little original thought at all any more.
Put my brain back in storage up on the musty shelf. Seems everything I believe in is learned from someone else.
I just simply repeat back the things I've been taught. Year after year repeating thought after thought.
A collection of opinions, words of others that I spout. Seems the easy way, so I open my mouth and they fall out.
The politicians and teachers and experts and the news. Have radically systematically denied my freedom to choose.
Unwitting copycat and imitator who historically repeats himself. Without a genuine idea, put my brain back on the shelf.
Has everything I've learned and believe and everything I know, produced an unauthentic me, God help me if it's so.
A wealth of original ideas, that would be my kind of wealth. If not take what I've got and put my brain back on the shelf.
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 7:45 PM UTC
Have you seen her?
That raincloud girl?
Who’s father beat like thunder
With words that cut like lightning
Who’s sunshine mother warmed all
But never stopped the storm from coming.
Have you seen her?
That handmedown girl?
Passed from one family to another
With constant conflicting opinions
And a borrowed sense of conviction
That never quite fit her right.
Have you seen her?
That sad little girl?
Who grew up believing in faerie-tales
With faith in every misspoken sentence
Who waits on every text message
Despite the repeating heartbreaking goodbyes.
Have you seen her?
That copycat girl?
Who somehow never changes
With her fragile coat of innocence
Who looks like me in mirrors
But she will never be again.
Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 10:43 PM UTC
Blood foams out of Mary’s mouth.
Grass on her skirt.
Grubs shift beneath her, trying to breathe.
Pink foam runs down her chin.
Jeremiah hasn’t moved in an hour.
Lying on the grass with his hair rotting.
Bathtub flesh tangled in senescence.
Jesus, where the **** did the time go?
It’s Autumn approaching Winter.
Little nooses run down tree branches and settle round all the leaves.
Hugging them until their necks sever like Isaiah’s.
Eve shakes his shoulder to wake him but his head just rolls further into the gutter.
A dazed expression of absolute revulsion.
Whatever.
I pick up a stick and pierce Eve’s flesh.
Over and over.
Because I’m bored.
And she’s there.
Barely perceiving her own existence.
Shaking the headless body of Isaiah.
While Mary collapses into a black hole.
And Jeremiah sinks into the ground.
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 8:58 PM UTC
david was warning me, i didn't listen
instead i kept on running towards you
controlfreak of the netherworld, goon
my life is like a fairy tale, shimmering
invention and glory, similarly
psychopathic word play, baby doll
schizoprenic flow, i have to write
standing ovation for my family
some people have double standards
sweetlove tried to correct me;
hosting a contest about racism
playing grammar police, she was like:
"could you edit this horrible slang?"
no, it's simply the voice of many people
i demasked your entire outfit, kiddo
never ever will you hear back from me
once upon a time, i grew up, now i'm huge
tall, fat, dope, fresh, i'm ********
adjectives for my people to subsist
my life's a motion picture, get it baby
pipi langstrumpf zöpfe, du lächerliche
throw some german into the mix and be real
dinosaurs are chasing me, as long as i'm on it
paranoia guardians, copycat killers, word
livelong sessions, i'm not hiding myself
behind the mask is a good-hearted sicko
a sick, good-hearted person, no doubt
broad-shouldered and i stick my chest out
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 7:49 AM UTC
Copycat syndrome.
We come back to this
the things that we longed for
and no longer miss.
Copycat syndrome.
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 3:15 PM UTC
I'm no entozoologist,
But I've had enough of
Your ensiform dance,
I'm not your host anymore.
I don't mind and
I don't soul.
Our copycat streak ends
In body bag humor.
Stride away like a ******
With a nest to hide
And I'll paint myself shivers.
Death's blue tongue and
The fuzzy pink tide of birth
Keep pulsing as if
You never came around.
I don't mind and
I don't soul.
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 7:39 PM UTC
I hate you so much,
Copycat people.
How can you be such
Moral cripples?
In the world of lies,
Where hate is worshipped
I wonder, how could I
Fall in love with someone of it?
When the Mighty doesn't hear
The little boy's call,
Thinking he's a stranger here,
From the rooftop he falls.
When with a sight of believer
The father kicks out his son
From home, naming him sinner,
'Cause he loves the wrong one.
And quoting the Bible at that....
Stop the Earth, stop!
No...better not...
Better make it collapse!
I saw what our souls
Are able to do.
I hate you just 'cause
I'm the same as you.
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 7:50 AM UTC
Why are you copying me?
Doing everything I do.
I've seen the way you act,
And this will be nothing new.
Why are you copying me?
Doing everything I do.
What about my opinions and thoughts
Are you after those too?
Why are you copying me?
Doing everything I do.
I don't think you realize,
The hell I've gone through?
Why are you copying me?
Doing everything I do.
Even if you try as hard as you may,
What you portray will not be true.
Why are you copying me?
Doing everything I do.
I'm hurting and broken inside,
but I cannot pass that on to you.
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 6:32 AM UTC