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Metaphor Dad Poems | Metaphor Poems About Dad

These Metaphor Dad poems are examples of Metaphor poems about Dad. These are the best examples of Metaphor Dad poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

Dementia

He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
Tough.
Independent.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
Sad
Lonely
Empty.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
Sedation
Medication
Anger
Hurt
All results of
dementia


Details | Lyric | |

Solipsist

Let the Deicide commence.

You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart is beating out of your chest!
And you have slayed the ones whom would love you for anything less
Ready to consume the final fragments of innocence,
And for you there is no forgiveness,
On your knees pleading, screaming to a tyrant in the skies;
The father of lies.

I will never be enslaved in your superiority
The people agree: jaded of your false dichotomies.
Know: I will be whomever nature intends to be
Apollo and I will share our dreams,
and you will be forced to see
your failure!

I know who you are...
Readily the first to present your scars
Chained by some despot or mental czar
An emotional homunculus in your mind, behind bars
Reluctant to escape - even when proven fake
Your demented mind - depths no one will penetrate!
 
...And you see me suffering
Not caring of any casualties
Just as long you recieve your safeguard of sympathy
So very wary of the masses and their Anarchy; Liberious ways

Solipsist - Is there no one you can see?
Even if she was presented burning?
Solipsist - Is there no one you can believe?
Even if Sophia was screaming?
Solipsist - Know you have killed and abused me
Imprisoned in your own  personal reality 




Details | Monorhyme | |

Sins of my father

His sins are heavy/
He stood there silent/ 
Sweat dripping down his armpit this sins r heavy/
Victims see a savior sent from heaven his sins r blurry/
His sweat tastes no salt secrets hidden behind doors glued in bolt they worship his father/
Zip down unzipped to keep his zip down and never spit zip/
He is an experiment a doormat of his Father's zip/
He weeps but nobody speaks/
His father's sins are heavy/


Details | Imagism | |

Something good

The smell of coffee: hot and bitter in the cold winter night 
With the rhythm in the left hand and the rhyme in the right, 
He wrote a poem in his secret pocket,
A wistful star like a speedy rocket
Ready to leave this planet intense blue
In search of other traces of life anew.
He remembered after mother had died,
In the cold touch ,stalagmites and stalactites cried.
Father and son felt a strong taste for sweets.
As in the sunset, the blind boatman meets
With an awkward touch the water`s ring
But generally they needn`t to eat anything
For a while they rested an extraordinary team:
Father insistently (sometimes boring) told him
All his recollections:childhood,war and the rest…
All muscles and teeth pressed hot, like ice on the crest.
The son learnt them by heart, and later
He would retell them to father, even better…
One was on duty to wash the dishes;
The other tried to follow his wishes…

Their only joy was to read and read and read…
One had to cook at home ,and to bake the bread
In a bread factory:He was happy even when he was sad.
He could recognize each bread: All his loafs were bad.
He was like Chaplin in “New Times”.
He was speaking in figures and rhymes.  
He wore a monk beard and father was much more younger.
Looking through the window: grey hunger and anger …

At the weekend, he used to ask his father 
About the favourite meal, but rather
He would find a surprise the next day.
Each day was windy winter and grey…

Father had the same touching answer:”Something good”.
In the strange interference ,water and fire ,one was rude.
Solitude  was their common friend stealing in like a lizard,                                       
But, in the afternoon they played sweeping their courtyard.
They had leaves in autumn and snow in the winter.
The sky was grey without sun, the clouds were bitter.
Father was counting the leaves, in the old horizon
The son was painting the days ,in the cold horizon.


The war with the falling down leaves fighting hard 
With red faces like an inveterate drunkard .
And years after his father met his final hope,
The son would stop in front of  the sweets shop , 
Ready to buy recollections as Christmas tree sweets.


Details | Lyric | |

Drifting Mainly

You belong to me mate 	 ( Intro )
And that be that!
Get on board
And grab your hat!

The ship was aghast at its new passenger	( Verse )
Like disdain for the lives that they now left behind,
Newcomers were scarce 
And they never would last
But I held up my chin nice and high.


The bloke who took me screamed	( Pre-chorus )
“Mop up the deck we’ve got things to do!” 
But I said sir, 
I’m just a boy and don’t know what’s to do.

And he said		( Chorus )
“Drifting mainly
Sailin the shores
Taking what’s mine 
And leaving what’s yours
Cause you know, we ain’t dead yet.”

Taking the seas for more than eight moons
We found islands and loot
That was bigger than most.
The taste of sea air 
With its wind in my hair
Took me away to this new life I lead.

After mopping the deck 
He grabbed my hand and screamed
 “Steer this ship boy!”
But I said sir,
I’m just a lad and don’t know where to go.

So the crew yelled	( Chorus )
“Drifting mainly
Sailin the shore
Taking what’s mine 
And leaving what’s yours
Cause you know, we ain’t dead yet.”

Surprising to me 
Was my unshaven face
The captain looked on 
And smiled with grace,
We stopped at a place 
Where the women were loose and didn’t mind
If we took a peak.

He said “Now you’re a man so let’s get on that boat,
We got places to be and some people to rope,
So grab that sword and drop that mop
Cause you’re no longer a boy in my eyes.”

I practiced the duel with the men in the crew
The captain took eye to my devilish pride,
And he took me aside and said 
 “Even in death I’m gonna miss you boy 
But don’t let it strike you 
Or kill your spirits
Cause even time can beat out the Grim.”

Then in the darkness came fire and screams,
Our vessel had stopped after fourteen years,
The crew fought hard and beat most of the men
But now, my Captain was dead.

We took the new ship watching ours sink deep
Saying goodbye to our drowning escape,
The crew turned towards me and asked
“What do we do?” and I smiled,
And they did to.

And we yelled    ( Chorus )
“Drifting mainly
Sailin the shores
Takin what’s mine
And leaving what’s yours
Cause you know, we ain’t dead yet.”