"lookalike" poems
I dated two robots yesterdays
Both were programmed to service me well
We did things
In the same
good old
learned order
of doing things
And after sunset
we kissed
at the beach
With one -
our feet touching
With the other -
our view inviting
the rush of salty waves
Alas
Both robots could suddenly
not speak
One even bluffed
he had a virus in throat
AI intelligence?!
jaa ha ha
The other was hanging just with
With variations of
what do you feels
Tell me your fantasy s
‘Don't think
tell me whatever comes first’ s
And
I believe
And
I say
But
Mine is what he can't understand
His’ is
I think a drink on the beach
But unfortunately I don't drink
Using coconut biotica only
These days
Ahhahhaa
...
While they chatted so well!
Without any error of a word to spell!
…
I dated two robots yesterday
That sighed only to say
I can't believe I am holding yous
How much I missed yous
Hugging robots
Vibrating robots
Robots with small mouth and twister tongue
Ready to penetrate into mine at a slightest chance of an opening
A disguised disgust of my sincere failure
not towards the robot but myself
Hiding you still under my palate
from where the soma of your love drips
Now as if forcefully been replaced
to a taste of this preprogrammed chatalike
Have they lost their voice because of my best dress
or maybe the fantasy of the sandy bikini
which they will never see
in the dark wherein
Both hiding their face
But I see
By my loose body parts
Maybe a lookalike
But I ain't no robot
Oh my sandy bikini
Oh Chosen so carefully
To rejuvenate their fantasy
a different pattern for each-
yes. I do take care of that!
Stays now
as an Everly Brothers’ dream
In my mind only
But
My ‘okey ‘ is an ensuring
‘yes yes’ the Indian way
Of course
They did their best
Seriously
Thus
A big CHAPEAU
For the zest
That obviously still can break china hearts
I took it as a test
To get to know me better
Let me be broken through your dream
Let me cry and shake and perceive an angry cloudy color world
let my remains of china burst
I dated two robots yesterdays
while expecting for a man
Thankfully though
these are yesterdays
Today I met a true man
A gypsy
We will date sometime
Play tabla and darbuka
Drink dance and sing
And sleep
To salute the sun
early in the morning
At the beach
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 2:58 AM UTC
No,
not short poems.
honest to goodness
short shorts,
jean-like short shorts.
No,
not those kinds that
the young girls wear,
jean lookalike stretch fabric,
skin so tight it makes
their ole daddies' faces
wince the same color blue.
in the middle muddle of fall,
now you write of short shorts?
Well, I was told I could not write this
till after the summer was final gone
from the rear view mirror glass.
Once I wrote/imagined about
a woman of a certain age,
who emptied her armoire drawers,
time to transition and take things
that could no longer be,
to the thrift shop,
for others to be
thrifty in.
Except for one bathing suit,
a two piece back from the days,
when two pieces meant
you were proud
of what you had and
what you didn't have -
the same suit she was
wearing grabbing her little son,
then a man of six or seven,
(now a dad with a son,
of three or six or seven),
in the photo on the night table,
some thirty dreams ago.
Man you take a long time to make a point!
what's all this got to do with short shorts?
one summer day,
a woman I know,
an actual
fire-breathing dragon,
went thru the drawers
of her ***** blonde armoire.
there she "found" a pair of
shorts shorts, from some
thirty dreams ago.
it did not take
too much encouragement,
just a little courage
to try them on,
thirty dreams later.
now these short shorts
were the old fashioned kind,
they look liked cut off jeans
but were not, they had rolled up
cuffed bottoms to increase the illusion.
They no longer fit!
Yup.
******* short shorts were
loose
around that curvaceous waist,
known as my favorite place.,
where I rested my head once again,
after,
we celebrated.
that is my poem about short shorts
that I've been carrying round
until the curfew was lifted.
but even tho I like short shorts,
I'll never ask someone to wear them,
risking scorn and mockery,
but I know for a fact,
those short shorts did not
get thrown out.
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 8:10 AM UTC
Floodlights.
They’re ghosts right?
From our memories,
Have been seized, we
From the perfect dream?
Drip drop drip drop
Turning tricks, dropped the jack
***** when you coming back?
It’s off it’s off
Seldom silence serves as sight’s severance.
**** chop **** chop OW!
******* pistol clock
Whip glock whipping ****
How many names can you think of for a knockoff
Of soda pop?
I’m sorry sir you’ve got the wrong Ryan,
I haven’t starred in any movies that cryin’
Old seniles, and sensitive females, so honestly claim
Was the way life should have been for them.
Oh in that case I’ll show you the brain,
Then kick you in the *** for being so gay.
Hold on there, wrong Ryan.
I ain’t waiting tables, or banefully fryin’
Up **** that I spit in for women with tips worth less
Than my two cents.
Oh I apologize, celebrity lookalike.
Must be the weather or the windshield is cracked
Or the antennae are bent or the cables are jacked
But I can’t seem to figure out just who you are
When I’m watching the TV pimped into my car,
Let’s try a few shall we
Not a cook…Not a lover boi…Silence of the…Birds, if you’re a bird I’m a…Bat…Batman! Batman and Robin! Red Robin! No not a waiter…
Red hearse, Fred Durst, Paris Hilton, Ryan Milton
Wrong Ryan, Wrong Ryan!
Oh my god, silly me
I seem to have gone on a tangent you see.
Tandem bicycles, all of them for free.
If you would only come visit. Agreed?
Of course I know that you’re THE Ryan B.
Jan 23, 2012
Jan 23, 2012 at 9:04 PM UTC
President Comb-Over,
Quite the despicable guy
Got himself elected
But the wise folk wonder why.
Obama wore a tan suit
Conservatives went insane,
But this Wimpy lookalike butterball
Sports a totally artificial mane.
If ****** predation were a soccer game
This **** would win The World Cup.
If you ignored the news and his tweets
You’d think someone made this horror show up.
He’s lied and cheated and swindled his way
In to more lucrative deals than he deserved
Then a large minority of certifiable idiots
Elected him so he could to pretend to serve.
He took the Oath of Office, quite smugly
But that’s where his integrity would end.
He set about making deals for himself
His trophy wives, his offspring and friends.
He made few attempts to cover his tracks,
Mostly just shouted blatantly obvious lies
By which he was fooling no one intelligent.
Just the moronic, the foolish and unwise.
He relied on the vagaries of human nature
That voters are among the laziest humans
And would rather vote for a rascal it seems
Than take a chance on an honest new man
Or woman, or gay or an experienced soul
That could take over the Presidential reins
Instead of driving our country straight to hell
And making huge profits off the remains.
Brent Kincaid
4/23/2019
Apr 23, 2019
Apr 23, 2019 at 2:46 PM UTC
They're such shiny chemicals:
Dopamine, Norepinephrine, Phenylethylamine.
Life shimmers,
and each day is painted with purpose
When dosed with such potency.
I would like to believe that love,
The long-lasting kind,
The one you're supposed to want,
The one that settles you,
Where you grow old and spend Wednesday evenings answering emails and rewatching some old baking show in ***** sweats
Is enough to keep life interesting.
But chemistry doesn't always work that way.
My path might dictate some other measure of wholeness,
And more than one type of love,
And more than a couched lookalike storybook ending.
My path may require
Risk, Adventure, Longing,
Questioning, Exploration, Pain,
Brilliant platonic wildfires,
Intellectual dalliances,
And unrequited amorosity.
In short, my path may require some trailblazing.
But this precious neural spark
In my body
That keeps me in love with love
Is mine to keep
For as long as it continues to shine.
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 5:49 AM UTC
I met a woman,
On my daily jog.
She was my lookalike,
Walking with a dog.
The parameter that surrounded,
It changed in that moment.
We were somewhere else,
Change of a second or may be a minute.
I saw her ghost-like skin,
I saw the redemption she was seeking for her sins.
I saw a battered mind,
I saw those dead but piercing eyes.
I tried to communicate,
Couldn't read her mind.
She tried as well,
Then she vanished from my sight.
It was an experience,
I can't explain.
It stopped me there,
Lured me to see,what I'm trying to gain.
I knew the path I was walking,
Will get me there.
Where I was someone,
That I can't seems to bare.
Knowing what's going to happen,
Left me reeling.
Knowing there was a possibility of loosing;
Everything that I hold dear,
Everything that I want near.
It took me a moment to realise,
There wasn't a ghost I was seeing,
Just a trick of my unconscious mind.
It was an awakening,
I didn't knew I was waiting for,
It was an opportunity,
To change what could happen and maybe being more.
It was a blessing.....
And it was a curse.
It changed the facts and the future...
And everything that could've occurred.
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 12:22 PM UTC
Roosters on roster,
words for goodwill associated.
Fortune tellers to alter
the fate of a deep fried miserable one
and make it again a flying creature.
That will eventually amaze
ordinary people like me if not a lot.
The monkey could have climbed higher
I am afraid rest of the roosters will crow
no matter whom the crocodile will bite next
with tears. This little prayer
goes to those victims lookalike
for swimming longer in the bigpond
of rumours for sake of
whatever.
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 6:45 PM UTC
Still like a waters edge.
A sense of no sense and nonsense.
Puddle drunk, a nun to nothing and cross dressing monk.
You cannae hide, seek the tongues that speak.
A riddle of the weak, a bridge that saves both sides from falling away to a mountains edge,
the tiller, distiller lookalike Windy Miller,
converse, adverse no rhyme or reason to build a better will.
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 8:07 AM UTC
i know it pacifies,
national socialism was experimented
in germany,
but national capitalism took over,
you have a McDonald and a KFC
in Slovakia and other places...
it's not killing people,
but it's definitely numbing them...
they have no chance of a cultural
uniqueness, this national capitalism
has america in BIG PRINT seen
everywhere, and china in small
print worn everywhere: MADE IN;
which basically means everywhere
starts becoming a lookalike alike alike alike
******** hence the emergence of
internet shopping, everyone becoming
like the rich kids: pool, snooker hall
and all other social functioning distractions
enabling congregation under one roof,
with richy rich over here, having to pay
for a ******* too gluttonous to do it himself;
hey, it's just a muscle kid...
the clergy have a monopoly on the *****
esp. if it's all girlie girl girls.
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 2:05 PM UTC
Johnny likes
the back corner seat
in the cafe
it gives a good view
of those entering
and leaving
and a good view
of the baristas
as they work
at the bar
especially
the Clara Bow
lookalike
with her black hair
and cute cut
and dark eyes
and thin
almost
indecipherable smile
and in the background
the piped Baroque music
or sometimes jazz
setting feet to tapping
but this day
the barista is
the short girl
with the Italian twang
who gets
the orders right on cue
and who knows
your requirements
before you say
on a good day
the tattooed barista
has gone
his favourite gaze
to watch her work
and talk and smile
and the glitter
in her eyes
she works
elsewhere
for other men
to watch
and stare.
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 2:27 AM UTC
1. Powerful is the man who isn't listening to culturally correct counselling, isn't cautiously trying to please everybody, and who doesn't see outright scorn and sarcasm as a reason for backing down from the truth.
2. But he is so excited about the teachings of God that he spends time learning them every day and night.
3. He shall be like a giant-sized redgum tree by a great river, blossoming and seedbearing regularly each year, never looking even a little bit dry, and every year he'll be getting more and more successful at what he does.
4. Outside of God there are no guarantees like that. The wind can blow anywhichway for outsiders.
5. They'll fall over when the rubber hits the road on the Day of the Lord, and narcissism won't work among God's faithful people.
6. The Lord can easily pick out His faithful followers, but the others won't be able to hold their heads above water in the long run.
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 2:49 AM UTC
1: The Lord is my wonderful mentor. I have no fears of lack when I'm around Him.
2: He is so peaceful to be around, so SAFE, it's like spread-eagling out on the grass, or dabbling one's feet in still water to make my ripples.
3: He always has encouragement for me so that my soul feels well content and animated. He teaches me the amazing values of righteousness, of keeping my behaviour honed and clean, because He wants my intimacy!
4: No matter what happens, or where I am emotionally, or what I'm facing - even death itself - I have nothing to be afraid of
Because you are defending my back with your powerful weaponry, and that is a great comfort to me.
5: There is the most dazzling table of goodies that You have set up for me, and those who make fun of me have absolutely NO IDEA about it - they have no idea of what they are missing out on!
Not only that but You pour the oil of your favour and blessings all over my head and life.
My cup isn't half empty. It isn't half full either. It's absolutely running out all over the place! It never stops.
6: If there is one thing I am sure of, it's that true love and gentlest touch are my environment every single day that I live, and that is exactly where I will remain - right there in the Lord's House, for ever and ever.
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 5:26 PM UTC
Doppelgänger
by Michael R. Burch
Here the only anguish
is the bedraggled vetch lying strangled in weeds,
the customary sorrows of the wild persimmons,
the whispered complaints of the stately willow trees
disentangling their fine lank hair,
and what is past.
I find you here, one of many things lost,
that, if we do not recover, will undoubtedly vanish forever ...
now only this unfortunate stone,
this pale, disintegrate mass,
this destiny, this unexpected shiver,
this name we share.
Keywords/Tags: doppelganger, namesake, twin, lookalike, grave, tomb, headstone, inscription, weeds, shiver, recognition, destiny, fate
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 5:47 AM UTC
there is talk
of a parallel world;
one and the same as here
yet so drastically different—
imagine yourself
beyond a looking glass
you see your reflection;
it wears a smile
you wonder how your lookalike
has diminished your eternal frown
stand over deathly still waters;
toss an unfortunate pebble
perhaps the portal lies within
the undying ripples?
high above
a falcon scoffs;
upon your dusty ruins
with trembling fingers
reaching out—
for the broken glass
of a silver clock;
trapped in a dimension
ruled by hours
where the sands of time
flow fast
- - -
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 10:56 AM UTC
Nahhhh-ka-tomi Plaza
Its a place we all know, too **** well
Nahhhh-ka-tomi Plaza
John McClane **** sure, excelled
A simple Christmas soiree, ***** and drugs proliferate
Hans crashing the gate, with Red Dawn, to liberate
Nahhhh-ka-tomi Plaza
Hans and Co, heading off to hell
Nahhhh-ka-tomi Plaza
John McClane **** sure as f*ck, excelled
Six hundred million, in negotiable bearer bonds their prize
Not Brazilians, but Germans, as terrorists, disguised
Nahhhh-ka-tomi Plaza
Expensive suits getting ruined, no one got dry cleaning bills
Nahhhh-ka-tomi Plaza
Takagi had a walk on part, I hope that, I'm in his will
Counting up the bullets, none left to be spared
Putting Hans on the pavement, Huey Lewis (lookalike) can't be repaired
Nahhhh-ka-tomi Plaza
Bearer bonds upon the sidewalk, wish I was there
Nahhhh-ka-tomi Plaza
Pocketing some negotiables, nevermore financial cares
Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 8:20 AM UTC
Hey darling.
It's been a while since I spoke to you,
Really spoke to you.
I've had you since I was nine
I picked you up at the local toy store
And said to myself,
"This one will be my companion."
And so you have been
A part of my life for five years straight
And though I've stopped taking you to sleepovers and vacations
Don't think I'm leaving you
Anytime soon.
The only reason I do that anyway
Is because I don't want to somehow lose
My BSF
(Best stuffed friend)
And confidante.
While I'm too scared to tell you things out loud
I know you listen to everything
So don't think if I lost you, I could replace you
With a lookalike, because for the thousands of Moxies in the world,
There is only one that is my Moxy.
So, thanks for being you.
And don't think I don't notice
That someone somehow
Eats all of the Oreos while I'm at school.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 11:33 AM UTC
Too many men they know a daughter is his spouse world.
They know more secrets that won't be avail to him.
It's a mother and daughter confidential secret
Many daughter are the splitting style of their moms.
Many have the characteristic of their mothers.
From the way they talk.
From the way they speak.
Which gets pointed out constantly.
Many mothers shops for two.
They constantly hear she just like you.
Now, watch the smile rises high.
When a mother's told of a lookalike child.
A father knows it.
A brother is aware.
Even a friend if you ask them.
A mother and daughter has their own world.
And any male is trying to fit in.
They learn common sense, from mom.
They learn to handle trouble, from mom.
They learn inner strength, from mom.
A mother and daughter stands strong.
This is something we must confess.
If you know love.
It will be from the way they are.
Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 9:21 AM UTC
Were always so expeditious to estimate one another,
Yet when at the same time we step into that glass mold thyself call's a mirror,
That glistened lookalike hasting back at thou,
Points back,
And rehashes thine own self!!!
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 5:19 PM UTC
Oh, we know them.
Might be kin to them.
We aware of many.
We have seen several.
In truth plenty.
Yes, these lookalike kids.
Who hear this a lot?
Some surely gets upset.
Constantly hearing other confess they look like another sibling.
Especially, the older ones.
And a few younger ones.
Especially, when you're not twins.
Still the comments keeps on coming.
When you're a lookalike kid.
And you're not about see the saying about to end.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 11:53 PM UTC
crumpled ticket in the pocket with no time on the dime dim lightning struck breaking in the best of kin a win win i cant do this tear slice shred swear it's a shame no sweat but fame the pressure builds up bogey blue bragster's mother-finnicky ******* **** ive found it ive found im hidden im hidden the gem's locked away rub one rub one rub one tug one tug one tug on zing we have a winner the shadow is cast the stars are alligned which match my eyes liquid pouring down fast on down the runway time to fly and catch the sky my time's not wasted but im wasted space look at me try try cry no river no stream no end just the fairly odd lookalike best of kin coddling crast dancing jigalow on the gallows pole
Jul 5, 2017
Jul 5, 2017 at 11:20 PM UTC
I sat at the dining table.
I didn’t want
to go down
from my room
but my parents
insisted.
Don't talk
about being
in hospital
or about
your drug addiction
Mother said to me
before she went down
from my room.
I sat in between
the thin lady
who looked
like Virginia Woolf
and the fat man
who had a moustache
like Oliver Hardy.
I sat mute
looking at them
as I ate
Mother eyeing me
in case I sang
like a canary
about my time
in hospital
for drug addiction.
The talk
was above my head
mostly medical stuff
or politics.
My father eyed me
now and then
in case I broke out
and gave
the game away.
Another guest
was an MP
who gazed at me
and smiled.
I didn't catch his name
but he eyed me over
but never spoke to me.
The Virginia Woolf lookalike
asked me what I was doing?
I said
eating dinner.
Mother chided me
for being rude
the lady said
not to worry
she understood
teenage girls.
I thought of Benny
how he'd be treated
amongst this snobbish lot
with their airs and graces.
I felt like spitting
in their food
and slapping
all their faces.
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 4:11 AM UTC
What looked like a lookalike
actually looked nothing like me.
I found an English station
in a sea of wavelengths
and tuned in.
ah,
comfort is the spoken word
when
speaking of tectonic plates
saturated fats and monosodium glutamates
and beggars cannot appear to
be choosers so I settled myself down
on the wooden chair and ran through
several stations
waiting for the morning there.
I was still thinking about the lookalike
like I had nothing else to do?
and why was I with the keenest eye
almost fooled?
It's about the choices and paths that we take,
dawn
is the perfect time to make comparisons
but
not the time for regrets.
I found coffee,
it's possibly pirated
arr..
..and now I'm set for what this day brings.
Later
although not measured by a yardstick
I
picked grapes with Jose for red wine and
rosé
nothing's ever that bad except in the dark.
And later still
in town for a fiesta
oranges and octopi
drinking
concoctions made by
someone called
Mordecai as unlikely as
that sounds.
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 2:24 PM UTC
Literally, loitering litter
leaves landscapes looking
like labyrinths leading lonely
lethargic lads lacking lustre
lame lamenting Lu Lu's Lingerie
laundered locally lampooning
looser's lost leaders landing
lecherous louts leftist ledgers
legacies legally legitimised
libellous loafers lobbying
locksmiths logically liaising
loggers longliners lubriciously
lucid lookalike lunatics luring
lasses lustfully locating low
level latino's lavatories.
Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 8:53 AM UTC
You are me, and a little bit more!
Voices are similar, skin color’s the same.
Eyes are like coffee, a real strong pair.
Whether it’s heaven’s favour or maybe the pain.
Our gait has the common habit.
We walk dancing measured thus,
Drawing the life’s rhythm firmly and surely.
This bit is known for two of us.
If you are the King, I am the Queen.
If you are right, I am left.
There’s no other playbook for us.
This is our unique fate.
I’m you, and a little bit more!
There’s no chance to fix it at all.
Thoughts and footsteps are lookalike.
I am equal to you once and for all.
Jan 20, 2025
Jan 20, 2025 at 2:59 PM UTC
Back on the jubilee
an Italian sat next to me
and next to her
a lookalike looking like Cher.
Open and close
doors do that
I suppose
and
some people do it too.
Sunlight filters in
past the grime
we're living in
and?
And is good to have at hand
when you're hanging on by a
thread.
Windmills
not dragons,
but I understand how
easily mistaken one can be
when you only see what
you want to see.
I get more time on here
more things to do
I could be a windmill too.
Underground now or is that
yet to be?
We combat mortality in an effort
to live on,
but we'll all be gone when the time
comes.
Bluetooth's detected me
connected me
with
Abercrombie and his iPhone,
why?
he's a stranger to me although
it might be a she
still a stranger though.
Canada Water
near water but not Canada
unless you count the geese.
I wonder sometimes
does a termination code
come
before the chicken crosses
the road?
Yesterday lingers in the ventilation shaft,
the smell of excess.
I'm older by twenty seven feet under London If that's possible
it might even be deeper.
I might even be older
when I
but then I
wonder again why
Abercrombie?
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 1:55 AM UTC