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Metaphor Imagination Poems | Metaphor Poems About Imagination

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

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Details | Sonnet | |

Gentle Summer Rain Art

Featuring:)  Giorgio Veneto

She writes about Fall's beauty in the rain 
The falling raindrops' dance ascribing thence 
Bespoken verse that lightens her refrain 
before the time they met - her steps commence. 

She listens to the soft and rhythmic thrum, 
her love turned to escape and cloudy string 
Where nimbus mistletoe fell, tears to become 
Their kiss of Autumn was symbolic ring. 

The first light cotton mists with summer rays 
While skyward cheerful laughs adorn the land, 
their ceremonial dance diffuses grays, 
affectionate embrace, where dreams expand. 

Upon September's sky the raindrops gleam 
With half of hidden Sun to laugh and beam.

Enjoy the FRAGRANCE OF RAIN

--------- 
FRAGRANCE OF RAIN 
8/29/13 
Sonnet 
---------

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Fool of Infiniti and Queen of Fate

Fool of Infiniti

A wanton bird pecks at the stars
A Jester peers through crystal bars
This prison of love with rainbow hue
Illusion parts to lets you through

On dragon wings forever free
You quest into your dreams to see
Smoke and mirrors and shadow haze
To guide you through an endless maze

Slow motion tear rolls down her cheek
Its only passion that you seek ?
Engulfed in strange duality.
She wonders her reality

Your eyes still mock her with desire
Your kisses light her inner fire
Your touch can melt her to your will
But you will never take your fill

Black widow spider guards your heart
She spun the web, she keeps it taut
It is your only fatal flaw.
A secret, silent metaphor.

And all about her swirl the dreams
The nightmares all with voiceless screams
And in her hand the strangest key
To fit the door of What Will Be ?

And when her eyes search yours again
You take her to the spider den
You spin the dreams she hopes to see
And lock your hearts in mystery.

So enter in to lick the flame
Eternal prisoner of the game
Illusion is false imagery
She whispers your Infinity


The Queen of Fate

The Queen of Fate by the outer Gate
Her carriage to Nowhere, will await
Her cloak is wrapped against the night
Her eyes are wide with peculiar fright

Gray horses eyes turn back in fear
With thunderclaps upon her ear
Blue jagged lightning points the way
Along the path to yesterday

Cold, sullen driver cracks his whip
His crooked smile curls round his lip
His horses leap the cruel abyss
Dark Queen of Fate sees none amiss

Above the mist a gate appears
Who will wipe the Gate-man's tears ?
Gray horses strike and paw the air
Fate Queen ascends the carriage stair

And all about her swirl the dreams
The nightmares all with voiceless screams
And in her hand a wondrous key
To lock Enigma's Mystery

Pass through the gate O Queen of Fate
Another carriage will await
Drawn by Steeds of Promises
Illusion Starts and Finishes

Suzanne Delaney
Iambic Tetrameter
Gothic Theme
For Giorgio's Impress Me Iambic Contest

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2013

Details | Masnavi | |

Regret

                               Regret….

I flew once in a field, full of flowers,
a field that was kissed by April showers.
I tasted all the jasmines, as sweet as new,
I did bathe on a leaf in a little dew. 
I was busy playing till the midnight,
I woke up and I was not sure of my sight.
I was a bird soaring as high as a hawk. 
Flying like a wind, with the wind had a talk.
I turned into a wind, and then to a cloud, 
A dark and dim cloud that thundering loud.
I turned into the rain, after being cloud,
quenching the deserts with silvery shroud.
I turned into river, and then to a sea,
although, I was water, I learned how to see. 
I turned into a fish perfectly aware,     
knowing that my lover is surely out there. 
Swimming like a fish, my world became cold,
I lost my will to live, too soon grown old.
I heard a nightingale calling me at night, 
telling me, being a man, it could be alright.
I turned into a man, in search of wisdom, 
hoping that love and peace, ruling the kingdom. 
A lot of years have passed, with a broken heart, 
I could not find the peace, I need a new start. 
I will change back again, to look for my love;
maybe a lamb or sheep, maybe a white dove. 
I will look everywhere, until it is found. 
I know it’s there for me, if I look around. 
Until then I’ll become laughter to a child, 
or maybe dandelion who grow wild.

3/21/2016 Haloo

Copyright © Pashang Salehi | Year Posted 2016

Details | Masnavi | |

The Voice

                               The Voice…

In a dark night that was darker than my pain,
     nothing was there for me except to complain.
I hid myself within emptiness of bed,
     nothing was there except, loneliness instead .
I heard a sound that was not like any sound.
     Joyously called my name, sought me, and then found.
He told me to get up, wake up, look at dawn,
     the darkness of the night soon will be all gone.
The voice told me that morning dawn full of light;
     has a power to wash darkness from its night.
The voice asked me that what happened to my youth.
     That I am old and grey, with forgotten truth.
I asked him that who are you and what are you?
     I don't know you, didn’t see you passing through.
Who are you that suddenly came to my room?
     Aren’t you God, and I am, meeting my doom?
I called your name many times when I was young.
     I prayed your name day and night with broken tongue.
Now you are calling my name at this day and age,
     not worth talking to you, anger, creates rage.
I am too old and I had too many sins,
     Living is only game that nobody wins.
Go and bother another soul beside me,
     I am tired of you, you shall never be.
The voice told me that I am out of my mind,
     and I have been beguiled, as though I am blind.
He told me that he was with me the whole time.
     He let me to fly, in this paradigm.
He told me that he is the end of a start.
     He is the love that cries from an aching heart.
He told me that he is water in a spring,
     he is that nightingale who so blithely sing.  
He told me that he is bottom and he’s up.
     He is grape and he is wine in the same cup.
He told me that he gave feathers for a flight.
     He made it so the sun shall set within night.
I asked him that if I see you with my eyes,
     I will be like the moon,light up the night skies.
That I looked for any sign to believe you,
     with just all promises, dreams may grow blue.
He told me to wake up, open up my eyes,
     and see what is to see, blessing in disguise.
I did open my eyes saw a glowing bright,
     like a drifting shadow in ocean of light.
I saw my son saying "wake up! wake up!, dad",
     What is matter with you, are you going mad?

5/14/16 Haloo

Copyright © Pashang Salehi | Year Posted 2016

Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Rtrn

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Trick

(THE GHOST)

In the naked eye,
Pure death approaches!

Incredibly hollow, kick the bucket long ago
No, whiff nor smell when “THE GHOST” is around
Abuses the whiteness, in which exists inside these sheets
It can be the cost and the intellect of your overdose in question
Go ahead and dig your own grave
I have already commissioned your headstone
You won’t be remembered,
The aftermath this GHOST creates 
---will leave you babbling, even in your crate
This is that whiteness you do not want to feel or taste.

Once he or she was a nobody, is now “The Infamous Ghost!”
The one that lives inside your ‘Indian Hollow Walls.’
The Ghost’ leaves heat behind in your room.
It prowls around, 
---leaving you within a near death experience every night.

This' ghost left behind will wreak mayhem on your soul,
Shh!  Listen to your walls, they speak quite a routine.  
Once you see yourself with broken wind, and watery eyes. 
Do not believe this is your maker in the process.
‘The Ghost’ with eyes so potent compels a numbing stare!

If there really is such a thing as reincarnation,
Then you had better remember
--- that this ghost was a ghost in its own past life
‘The Ghost’ can have you breathing out tears so intense
Leveling your entire room with fear
Not even your frightened watery eyes will salvage your soul
Nothing will come in handy before you expire.
‘The Ghost’ will incinerate your obituary.
          
         …READING…

“There is nothing to Fear but Fear itself! “By Franklin D. Roosevelt!”
That, and the fear is all this fearless 'Ghost will leave behind.
 Everlasting rational fear.

-Happy Halloween- 

Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2012

Details | Verse | |

Star People

Star People
A cycle of rebirth and regeneration cosmic mysteries from the depths of the universe.
Immortal beings during acts of love cast mystical spells... generating creative life forces.

Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative | |

Silver Strands

Slate gray streets made even darker by cutting raindrops
Umbrellas popping up everywhere, people seeking shelter

But I stayed put, wanting to get drained with the rain,
then I hear this tinkling voice that says, “Don’t you just love it when it rains?!”

I look at her wearily and her eyes actually gleam with laughter
Oh geez, this lady was my total opposite.  I was brooding, she was brimming.
I power-up my go away vibes, but she was like a darned magnet…
Was I the ferromagnetic one, or was she?

She gushed on the metaphor of rain in her life, and I didn’t feel like drowning.
Listening to her amidst the onslaught was so refreshing, making me thirstier…


There we were, two drenched souls, sitting on the pavement, chatting up a storm.
Of all her descriptions of rain, one in particular stood out for me…

Pearl drops strung on silver strands …

She said, “Rain for me would be silver strands streaking an otherwise somber sky…
pearl drops strung on silver strands, broken by the heavens to share with us.
See how precious it is?” Then she continued on with the metaphor for pearls…

Her words felt like windshield wipers to me, and I could see clearly now
By then, the rains had softened, and a lone pearl drop landed on her eyelashes
-that made me look closer at her eyes… her beautiful, wise, yet cloudy eyes…


I have never looked at rain the same way since then.






For Andrea's and Susan's Silver Strands contest


Copyright © binibining P.iNk | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

Twigs

Twigs

Flowers bloom
And flowers wilt.
Flowers blush
And flowers fade.
The eternity is only in me-
The twig that bears the flowers.

Sparrows are born
And sparrows die.
Sparrows fly
And brighten the sky.
That who nurtures sparrows is me-
A cozy make of a twig upon a twig.

The sun fades
And moon is born.
The twilight blurs
And moonlight spreads.
All the soothing moonlight beams are me-
A crisscross of unfathomed twigs.

Whether in its birth
Or in its death;
In the heart
Of its heart;
The entire beauty is none but one-
A design of mysterious twigs.

Copyright © Suyash Saxena | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Groundswell Girl - Named by JB

Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be 
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed 
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin 
Whisper lies as I let you in 
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky 
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail

Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Mythical pest

My parents complain of a mythical pest,

Infesting our house since the 7th of July,

Devouring the snacks, desserts,

delicacies and everything hot, spicy or sweet,

Determined to find the beast,

Fattened with food meant for me.

with a magic wand and on a broom to hunt

set out may it be a lachupakabra or a lepricorn,

Scary or naughty and anything the creature might wield

ready with a device from my dad given to me with a grin

the device, the compass, the guide to the beast

was a mirror reflecting its scaled skin scarlet red

staring at me with cat like blue eye

fierce and mighty.

Not a pest but is a mythical beast

Omega and almighty! It was me

Perplexed, gave up the hunt.

now feasting on poisonously, maliciously, dangerously

in sugary syrup gulab jamuns soaking.

Copyright © ravi kiran | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse | |

River of Time

On the River of Time
I built a dam for my love
to capture the moment,
collect the future,
and set our pasts free.

Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Alliteration | |

The Night Owl

Hoot! Hoot! Came the call
In silence I listened,heard
Nothing.
Suddenly, hoot! Hoot! 
Came the cry,tree 
Branches rustling,wings 
Flapping.
Seems the world was in 
Oblivion-the absolute 
Silence.
Went I to the window 
and Looked into the 
empty Darkness. As I lay 
down,I Knew somewhere 
I would Hear that sound 
again.

Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them

Copyright © Green Trees | Year Posted 2012

Details | Light Poetry | |

Fable: The Ant and the Boy

A little boy and an ant became great friends one day. 
But how to live drew them apart, and this is how they ran astray:

In the Ant’s heart was strict authority and constant work to rule the day.
Why wasn’t the boy toting behind someone, collecting for the food array?
The ant would always build everything in exactly the same proven way.
The anthill, underground, protected them perfectly as shown, every day.
Not adding to the hive was a horrible crime, none would ever display.
The ant knew all would be perfect, if everyone did their job, and obeyed.

But the boy wanted to build bridges and trestles, just like his Dad, each day.
All of them out in the open, none of them under ground or hidden away.
Inventiveness came with the notice, of new and exciting things in daily play.
His life was really cool, not boring, as standing in a line would convey.
He’d invent, ponder, and build in exciting, new ways, to fit each new byway.
Quick minded, resilient he’d build, many fascinating and unique causeways.

The boy and the ant eventually went away, not happy with how the other lived.
They thought the other shortsighted and scorned, at what the other could give.
But they went away without realizing, how very similar were their lives.
For each would spend their time endeavoring to help others with their drive.
But understanding is a harder concept than building a bridge or storing food.
It takes a true gift to see the world as others do…

The moral to this story is really quite easy for all to see:
You can’t expect others to live lives, how you want them to be.
Each was adding to their different worlds, only they could see.
One building for a smaller, singular hive, the other the hive of mankind, you see.
Each in their own way: truly cast a long shadow to fill… an important need.

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme royal | |

Alone In The Dark

I opened my eyes,under. 
A bleak atmosphere-
deserted I beheld.
Sinuous channels flowing.
Whimpering           
Sounds escaped,
As I walked on vast layer 
Of permafrost.
Beyond the horizon,the 
World lay bare.
With my heart in my 
Hand,I passed thru 
Argyle And Hellas,amid 
eerie Sounds echoing as 
dust
Storms circled,forming 
Shadowy figures.
Storms etching
The terrain,light   
Coloured dust particles
Created shifting light
And dark patterns.
How came I into this 
Voiceless world?
Three thousand miles, 
Across is chasm;beneath 
Lay the throne of Hades
I thought.
Drawing near,I jolted
As I heard a voice.
In the ship, this voice
Echoed in my ears-
"Welcome to earth!"

Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Just Be

Sometimes I admire the littlest things
A simple rock. A blade of grass. 
They need no future goals, no tax exemptions
They don’t need to go anywhere or be anything
They just are. 

Sometimes, especially when I’m reading life insurance policies,
I envy the rocks and the grass
And try to be like them for a moment. 
I sit perfectly still and give myself to the wind-
And it whispers in my ear:
Just be.
And for that moment I don’t need to go anywhere or be anything.
And at the snap of my fingers, 
All the complex widgets and gizmos that make up my life
Fold into paper airplanes and fly off in the wind.

Jacob Reinhardt
10/07/13

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry | |

Thinking Outside the Box

... but first we must establish one thing:

What kinda box are we talking about here?

If it's the pizza variety then no thoughts necessary!
Just dig in and put off consequences 'til later.
Though afterwards you might be hugging your gut,
saying, "I think I ate way too much!"

But hold onto that thought!
(before you lose your lunch)

Were you thinking outside the box?
I truly don't believe you were,
otherwise you wouldn't have gone for seconds
even as your face was turning blue.

(what did you eat the cardboard too?)

If it's a chess set you had in mind
I'd be mighty impressed it you DIDN'T
think outside the box.

... are you really that intelligent
to plan out the whole game before
you even take off the lid?

Now that's just crazy talk!

Course maybe that's not it either.
Perhaps you were thinking about
that Japanese number game.

(Sudoku... is that what you mean?)

Though to be honest 81 boxes
makes me feel a bit green.

The possibilities are truly endless it seems;
cubicles, board games, pizza shops,
warehouses, super markets,

(Heck, you're living in one, by God!)

So next time you bring up such a topic
you would do well to not be so vague.
It seems were all victims of this obscurity
... with origins more unknown than the plague.

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2013

Details | Blank verse | |

AU COURANT AU FAIT THE HEART OF IMAGINATION ABREAST

AU COURANT AU FAIT – THE HEART OF IMAGINATION ABREAST
The invention of the automobile is a thing to ponder. In words of the heart of imagination, the temperament wonders why divine providence gave the sense of knowledge of those natural resources that predefined the automobilist. Medical science is even more radical to design machinery that tells about our brain and body. Hardly conceived is their intelligence, the questions are answers hidden. I imagine that deity would be exposure to another vestibule with biblical emergence. The status of a country being oppressed is imagine by who defines the Antichrist. We have seen in the time of Joseph Stalin, Adolf Hitler, and now reign Vladimir Putin. Can you imagine the words to define suppression with the heart of a warrior depicting the coming mêlée? The imagination portrays the brilliance of today to evolution and the procreation of humankind. What do men seek via Social Science? A world that is no longer divine but a mind that divides to discovery a new way of life. I imagine that divinity is vested on earth because of lack of appearance of a known God. The imagination questions prior occurrences aboard and at home. We are our insight and inspiration via an unknown God. I imagine that religion imperceptibility will become a theological pre-cognizant of The School of Social Theology, which is demarcated as the heart of imagination discerned by word utilization. Do you imagine the same? Are similarities being disseminated? Facilitated via a school of thought, suppressed knowledge will come forth to take the outer limits to higher grounds. Were heavens are immortalized. In essence, these words have been pre-constructed to predefine the heart of imagination.
____________________________________________|
Penned on October 18, 2014!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse | |

Wildflowers

Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
 She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell     then came the ice, this went on for months.

The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
 I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.

They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves.  Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
 
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday. 
as they were called WEEDS ..
 The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.

However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .

The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
 Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
  She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB

Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

The Twilight Moor

Gazing out upon dusky barren moor,
Where gray grass grasps the air
Finding no purchase but sad allure
Straight stalks elapse their endless despair.

Teased by tales of golden reach
Tricked by gales, whose song they preach.

Redtail’s velvet wings breach the sky,
Maroon lips who kiss the grass
Stirring the song, its desperate sigh
Catching the words, her beak of crystal glass

Behind her, midnight shadow draws
Fells her beauty with unseen charcoal paws

Scarlet tears dampen the earth below
Nurture the roots held by dusty truth
Finally, the wind, gray grass’ will bestow
The hawk once, now the fountain of youth.

Litany of silence reigns in dusky glare,
Each blade bowed in mournful prayer.

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Blank verse | |

The Eye

The eye,a sign the 
unwise can't comprehend
  Forged from the world's 
origin,an 
illumination in darkened 
minds,for the 
enlightened ones like 
Leonardo da Vinci,Isaac 
Newton,John Milton....etc.
   The eye is a tree 
with many branches like 
Priory of Scion,Knight 
templars,I.O.G.T,United 
Nations,Masonic 
Lodge,Music industry, 
Politics,global economy, 
etc 
stretching beyond 
human imaginations-felt 
in all corners of earth.
  The world is clothed 
through wisdom from 
above.
   The eye,all seeing 
sign,an invincible 
emblem of power and 
riches to the lion hearted 
and loyal souls.
A seat of influence and 
fame.
  Creating the social order 
through men of power....
  Some see it as a 
curse,others a blessing.
  I feel it,the great eye is 
everywhere watching 
you!

Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Tangible Dreams

In the midst of darkness descending 
above me, 
Stillness seems to overtake sound, 
Allowing moments for deep thought 
in this mirror of solitude.

I tend to reminisce on those dreams I 
grab from the photogenic events of 
the past.

Once touched, I’m taken back by the 
moments that can’t be replaced. 

So during this moment of tranquility; 
I pray no external force interrupts 
this, 
The calm waters in my mind. 

Lucky for me, it’s a reoccurring dream; 
And as vivid as these fantasies are, 
None compare to the peaceful illusions 
of family gatherings. 

It was only yesterday, when I illustrated thoughts 
of a child, 
Always curious of that deep ocean floor, 
Where familiar kin paint their residence ; 
I was an eyewitness to many overlooked 
areas within my family’s ocean. 

Yet with many pieces missing as a result of 
loved ones ascending to a higher cause, 
This puzzle remains incomplete until that 
last tomorrow.

However in these possible moments 
of delusion; 
I’m a child again touching the fabric 
of my influential past.

As I continue this unforgettable daydream,
I ask again for no interruption; 
For with every reminiscent moment, 
I know of myself better and what I 
could be in a tangible future. 

Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

SEX ANTIDOTE

Quiet whispers   
whispering about sex
sex is natural   
everyone's whispering about sex
masculine and feminine energy
male and female sex   
let’s talk about it     
let’s talk about sex
souls dating
souls mating
I’m first  
he’s next 
he's staring at it 
going at it
no calls, no text
lose the negative stigma 
associated with sex
come,  come      
sexual education is up next
here’s what we need to know
admire the body  
it inspires growth
be kinky
blindfolded, suck on toes
no shame in it      
play with it
see where it goes 
sex is not to be put to shame
sex so good 
I call out his name
`oh, God  
his name
sex so good   
no shame     
sex so good   
no blame 
sex is an antidote for emotional pain

Copyright © BLUE33 NailahBaniti | Year Posted 2016

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: IV

God made all people
But some better than others?
Stop being silly.

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Goddess of Mars

Goddess of Mars and of
all things desolate

I chart desperate needs
I measure hatred

Alone in a red filled 
valley of despair

Hot winds lift and
spiral my hair

I am not there
I am the barest whisper

My talons scrape the blue
confines of heaven

while my dark- star constellations
spin  in fatal, frozen orbits

I am not there - nor is infinity

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Three Inch Cliches

The Soul is the Beautiful Light of Love
Shining like the sun through the 
NO
As the reader, I’m going to have to cut you off there.
Here’s a metaphor for you…
Reading is ****ing.
And your words hit our auditory canals
Like a hotdog down a hallway.
As an experienced reader, I’m after 
The virgin vernacular 
The aphrodisiac aphorism
You know- the big… black words
You feel me?
Because a line is a flashlight, exposing the world’s nudity-
And we’ll never get anywhere shining it in the same spot.
So kiss me with classy couplets
Smack my assonance!
Bring me to the climax-
And we’ll share a smoke together,
Warm beside the fire of your Three Inch Clichés.

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: VI

The body: sacred
We’re all made in God’s image
Hence... circumcision?

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

MAKEUP SEX

I’m on top
butt naked
‘bout to give it to him real slow
give it to him so good
‘til he begs   
please, no more
I’m sorry
didn’t mean it
please, no more
moans of forgiveness
`Im soorry
please, no more
going up, going down  
please, no more
he's begging
I’m not done yet
please, no more
tighten the walls 
I'm gridin' 
please, no more
two minutes
he's impatient
please, no more
I control it
I tell it
please, no more 
when to come 
when to let go
please, no more 
he’s going, he's screaming 
please, no more
I forgive you, I love you
please, no more

Copyright © BLUE33 NailahBaniti | Year Posted 2016

Details | Personification | |

Science

Sleeping dragon through the Dark Ages,
Coldblooded and unfeeling wraith,
It awoke and consumed the human race,
Entering every aspect of their lives.
Nothing can destroy this beast of knowledge
Except an Apocalypse.

Copyright © Tara Andre | Year Posted 2013