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Metaphor Life Poems | Metaphor Poems About Life

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

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Details | Couplet | |

As Liquid Fire Melts

As Liquid Fire Melts

As liquid fire melts with twinkling sunshine in your eyes, 
Opening wings now embrace deeply all of my true emotions.

Feeling the warmth of your beating heart now fluttering so,
I see a radiant chain of daisies growing in the deep green grass.
Every choice I have ever made throughout my long life,
Has led me now to you at this very special moment in time. 

Beholding ivory silk starlight whispers of Heavenly angels true, 
I have now a clear vision of my life, my fate, and my destiny. 

Becoming the richest person in this giant, lonely world—
Means finding you and sharing our love unconditionally.

All real emotions we have beholding in this life of ours,
Are part of that God-given sensitivity from the Almighty.

Truly, as liquid fire melts beyond in great stars of the cosmos,
I think of you, our love, and the starlight whispers of angels true!

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid, A Collaborated Poem 
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – April 21, 2016
(Unrhymed Couplet)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sestina | |

A cyclical life

Here in the heavy depths of insolent woes,
We gesture and talk and waste our time,
Staking claim to each minute of our earthly life,
Running the hours through a clock by the day,
Never sated, not content to find even love,
Buried deep inside the petals of a perfect rose.

So was a metaphor created from the rose, 
Then plagiarized and used for all of time,
Simply here to represent the beauty of love,
A perfection to which we cannot aspire to in life,
Or even death, in the darkest of all those woes,
Great though they may seem by the passing day.

It's a fragile, soulful kind of love,
In the pressing presence of the breaking day,
Where your back breaks beneath ample woes,
And there just simply isn’t ever enough time,
To do what you plan to do with your life.
Then you start to resemble that rose.

Soft and delicate, with easy loss of life,
Mournful of the passage of time,
Counting down, day by dreary day,
Ever seeking out to find dear love,
The theoretical banishment of woes.
Such is the way of the deep red rose.

Has it ever occurred to us not to mark time?
Just to ignore it, along with any such woes,
Just to leap forth and enjoy life,
To live to the absolute fullest everyday,
And just as chosen by the poet's rose,
To find and hold on to, that one true love.

For I find, that it's mostly true these days,
That people don't make enough time,
For laughter and fullness in life,
So preoccupied with petty woes,
That they forget about the beauty of love,
And in doing that, they forget about the rose,

I know what the rose represents in my life,
And I work hard to expel my woes every day,
So that soon I will have time for true love.

*****Written in Sestina for Constance's Poetry 101 contest.*****
******* 5th Place winner*******
******Sarah Blake August 2010******

A sestina is a highly structured form of poetry consisting of six six-line stanzas and a three-
line envoy (thirty-nine lines). The end words of the first stanza are repeated in varied order
as end words in the other stanzas and also recur in the envoy.

Copyright © Lorrie Scheider | Year Posted 2010

Details | Couplet | |

Our Human Nature

Our Human Nature

A real aspect always part of a person’s life;
One that can bear fangs and pangs of strife.
A living barometer replete with its choices;
Leaving each of us puzzled, full of voices. 

It prays on our very emotions and naiveté, 
Leaving us at times in moments of disarray.

Man by his nature is fickle and imperfect.
God by His nature is divine and perfect.

A person’s decency is so wonderful to tell;
Another’s depravity is so worthy of Hell! 

A person’s good deeds mark now his true measure,
Bringing him God’s divine love always to treasure!

Never trust what you can’t feel deep in your heart;
This makes us divine in God’s eyes—sets us apart!

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(January 5, 2016) (Rhymed Couplet)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2016

Details | Verse | |

What Life Means To Me

I put the suit on long ago
been wearing it ever since
it came with a coat and snappy vest
and two pair of shiny pants.

The pockets I filled with important things
crickets, frogs, and ants
all of them on the list that read
do’s and don’ts and can’ts.

The suit of life, it changed with me
into a statement of the times
tattered jeans and tie-dyed shirts
adorning screaming mimes.

Shifted gently through love’s tears
it’s births and deaths and sorrows
tailored itself to changing needs
as todays became tomorrows

Fashion may affect the tone
yet the fabric of the cloth retains
the honor of the tailor’s hand
the piety of living’s stains.

The jacket hangs, as jackets must
over pants with ageless sheen
the pockets bulge with life’s reward
the visions of its dream.

I put the suit on long ago
and wore it till it fit
now hold it ever precious – dear
I’ve grown quite fond of it.

submitted to – What Life Means To Me – Poetry contest
sponsor – Jerry T Curtis

Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Joining the Pieces

Sometimes we sit alone,
quiet, trying to figure
out who carried a piece
of us with them, as we try
to put ourselves together again...

Date: 25/02/2016

Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016

Details | Bio | |

Letters I Never Sent

Earth is a building
A crowded house covered with thorns 
donated by peacemakers

A building
Showered with endless tears washing sad feelings
Tears that fill holes to shape the planet with goals
It shelters those that shelter themselves
Shame poor souls
Pass them free suicide ropes
This earth is a shack overcrowded with souls hungry for 
reality’s accuracy

A construction that shield competitors for God’s recognition
This earth is a round promised lie
Circled to circulate exclusions
A bunkhouse burning from the heat of human insults
Group hugging insects 
Voice planning impacts 

It glows echoes of reality’s limping lips and confused vintage 
Glorifying gruesome goals
The third house amplifying fear as a choice 
The next door neighbour to your borrowed smiles

A building 
A freak round building 
Earth is a tornado moving bricks from one mind to others

My heart married the future with all its dimples
Holes piled up with fables
War of voices in ties and suitcases
 Killing the already dead in word visions
 Picture pictures painted in demonic paint brushes 
Bunch of hands group shaking greetings 

Earth is a building
A crowded house covered with thorns 
Donated by peacemakers
A building that let loose diseases for business   

Some letters i never sent

(c) Ray

Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Rtrn

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

The Elephant in the Room

3 polished oak fans,
Swirling in robotic unison

High maintenance socialites,
Sipping on Merlot fallacies

Lemon yellow coated walls,
Like their smiles

Comparisons of dangling Porsche & Bentley keys
A glorified day care center,
Pacifiers included

The muted virtuosos speak softly in hymn dialects.

Courtesy laughter in snob’s octave

Their heads twitching side to side,
Left to right to left

An equilibrium facing assault charges against self

They slow dance to cello dreams
And E minor dividends

Two-step monotone, sway
Against platinum lacquer foundations


But, it was then.

These same socialites,
Made of recycled candle wax
And rubberized, hedge-fund confidence,
Began to stare longingly at the party host’s 70 inch plasma TV

Proudly imported from China

“Attention uptight snobs of Mecca!
The city zoo has imploded!
The monkeys revolted!
The zebras were tired of being racially profiled!
Run for your LIV…!”

And before the reporter’s frightened inner child could finish’s his clause,
An elephant crashes into the decadent room
Filled with Crisp linen scents of Febreze & judgmental fear

It stares at the socialites,
Laughing heartedly as it playfully stomps away into constellation’s onyx night

As tears waterfall from the snobs’ sobbing eye sockets
As if they just listened to another Celine Dion song

The real newsflash

Metaphors played hooky today

©Drake J. Eszes

Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sestina | |

A Mouse And A Man

In the anters and shadows of this baleful life
perhaps the little brown mouse searching in silence
bewray a lonesome story behold

For eyes to wander a brief candle behold
in hushed light, enwheeled...this pitiful life
if only, my friend, to peer in silence

where love had flown in years of silence
to gape for dawn, a friendship behold
in ghostly thought of scurried life

From the cold reality of life where painful silence smothers, Behold!! compassion is born..



Anters - Caves
Brief Candle- Life is compared to a candle flame
Enwheeled- Encompassed

Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet | |

Hidden Beauty

Can there be beauty in my toes,
Where stubbornly a fungus grows?

I never thought it could be true.
I try to hide it with my shoe.

Its purpose, not yet discovered—
I try hard to keep it covered.

From large toe to the next it spread,
And now I look at both with dread.

It wants to grow against the norm,
My toenail with misshapen form,

Knows the wild ways it wants to grow,
And now it has a mate in tow!

I’ve vowed to make a sacred oath
To kill this hated fungal growth,

But I now see the beauty of
My wayward toes denied of love

Are like the people we might hate
And I’ve learned to appreciate

Diversity against the norm,
Well taught to me through my toes’ form;

That each of us must be unique,
And there’s the beauty that I seek!

As my fungal toe and its mate,
Which I condemned as reprobate,

Conceals within their ugly form,
Their freedom’s right against the norm!

© 1-18-15
For Hidden Beauty Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by Rhonda Johnson-Saunders

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ottava rima | |

The Morning Mist

The morning's mists
mix with the
woodland's scent
To fill me with such
wondrous happiness;
I see her wet but
gentle hands are
And reaching out to
touch with
The trees, and fills
my heart with
At how her fingers
curl with
To stroke the ragged
faces of the rocks,
Or run her dewy
fingers through the

{Written by Isaiah
Zerbst for the
poetry contest
"Through the Mist"
on the 20th of
August, 2014.}

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |


They place my vowel
Under barren landscape

Sipping from cracked porcelain cup
Of an alienated heartbeat

Devilish grins
Slapping Karma’s bottom,
A quarterback’s misguided win

Liar’s prophetic retinas glaze
With metric, disciplinary ruler

They place my consolidated lyric
On upper hand
Of cubic zirconium petulance

Their torn, lanolin coated tissue
Degrading polyester embedded uniform

Mislead by “savior’s” belief
A desolate embodiment of character

They observe me
With cherry coated pupils
Through rusty, iron bars

Its frosty echoes
Portraying fickle sonatas in these stale winds

My ambient tear
Is simply a hoax for their recycled victory

Holding wooden spoon against my waist

Ready to crawl

©Drake J. Eszes

Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2013

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 | Free verse | |


                  If you think life is like walking on a crystal staircase
                                          Simple and easy 
                                       Bright and sparkling
                                    Blind, naive and dreamy
                  An angel with the wings on each side of the steps
                                  Your heart would be broken
                                      You must not stumble
                                           Your strength
                         Red blood trails in shining crystal staircase
                              Leaving behind tears for lost dream
                      Life consists of realities - longing and harmony
                                 Winnie the Pooh with honey pot
                                           A tidal wave of joy
                      All the dazzling stars shine brighter than hoped
                Walk of life staircase is an art which everyone must learn
                                       But no one can teach you
                      The staircase of life are not made of shiny crystal

A-L  Andresen :)

- My english is my second language -

Sponsor: Nette Onclaud 
Contest Name: Metaphor: CRYSTAL 
Deadline 06/04/2014

(6th in the contest)

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

- Life Behind The Mirror -

Enchanting chambers made of glass 
Breaking reflections shatter falling into ruin
The history behind the tears and sorrow of a heart
Fragile echoes inside truth broken always sings 
If this be loves beauty like dropping crystals splash
Speaks a language of one thousand tongues when the sparks fly
The soul released from thought 
Faraway shadows cover a dream
When you have found what you're looking for
And always breathe in the beauty of nature
Silver buds glisten in morning dew 

Millions of years before you or me
Weeping willow hangs heavy over us 
These things and so many more
have made you and me understand
Blossoming sunshine shades golden 
Crowned kissed by love in the summer  rain 

What a beauty to wake up to birdsong
Carried on gentle winds when they sigh
Hearing screams from the raven far up in the mountains
Secrets of the water flowing whispers 
Our lives have a meaning here on this earth
Stars circle your space in another realm 
Thoughts and dreams put together as mosaic
A moon smiles as shadows dances to a joyous tune 
The smell of pine needles tickle in the nose
As a sun lights our footsteps with golden harmony 
Commitment strong and sense of purpose is the key to life

Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

A Soul Awakened

She is the muse to her own sorrow; She is the digger of her grave. She is the painter of her ocean view and every fatal wave. She is the shadow of her Father; She is the darkness in your sight. She is the night without the stars surrounding pale moonlight. She is the music with no words; She is sweet love without the reason. She is your dreamer with submission cold by warmth with every season. She is your pet with cold intentions; She is your baby scared and shaken. She is the bold and pure- the lost and found, She is a soul awakened.

Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |



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 | Epigram | |


A mighty river life is,
The powerful waters of
Rushing feelings, 
Roaring emotions  
Thunderous ideas flow,
In wonder its source has
Its estuary in awe! 

© Demetrios Trifiatis
  31 MARCH 2014  

Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse | |

My Garden

I attend to my garden each day,
   though a tedious task, it is true.
With the seeds of ambition, I pray
   it will flourish for me and for you.

Do you know how it prospers my dears?
   With the sunshine of radiant love,
and the moisture of falling wet tears,
   intermittently splashed from above.

And by nurturing it with the swell
   of bright hope for each new shining day;
the faith fetched from my deepest dark well,
   it will grow in a glorious way.

Then by weeding it daily, it should
   give new seedlings room needed to grow.
Quick removing unwanted dead wood,
   left uncluttered its beauty will show

As my blooms open wide in the sun,
   all their colors will blend bright and dim.
I’ll caress them so gently, each one,
   and breathe deeply the fragrance within

Through the Summer, my garden will spread
   filling spaces so barren before,
and not fearing the Winter ahead
   it will flourish and thrive even more.

Now I know with the coming of Fall
   my old garden will soon fade away.
But through Winter sleep wait for the call
   to awake on another Spring day.

Sandra M. Haight

~1st Place~
Contest: Screwed VIII
Sponsor: Rob Carmack
Judged: 12/03/2015

Contest: Anapest Trimeter
Sponsor: Pendleton Arkwright
Judged” 12/31/2014

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2014

Details | ABC | |

the circle of life

A predator among us.
A villian in our midst.
An entity of evil,
Clouding up our wits.
Preying on the innocent.
Devouring the strong.
A sycophant immortal.
Unbound by right and wrong.
White wool adorning
The curves of their form.
Cloven hooves dragging
on the ground with the worms.
No hoofprints behind them.
just the four toed paws
dotted at the tips
by their long and angry claws.
Nature is a cruel being.
Creating monsters in her storms.
No one understands
And everyone is torn.
The prey will always villify
those who are higher than they
on the food chains bottom
the sheep will always stay.
The wolves are meant to feed
without remourse consume
The psyches of the weak
to bring them to their doom.
The sheep will bleat and bellow
in fear of those wolves
And try to justify their blindness
by stamping hard their hooves.
Hiding in the herd,
the prey upon their back
the predators facade
turns their wool to black.
Such is natures way.
No one is at fault.
The circle of life.
The predators of thought.
For who can blame the hungry beast
for eating to survive
When you people create such feasts
And tantalize our eyes.
We can not feel guilty
for gaining our sustenance.
consider this my fealty
for i shall not repent.

Copyright © JoAnna Mitchell | Year Posted 2013

Details | Carpe Diem | |

Carpe Diem

Carpe Diem If time were just a thing to save, At last, when life is ending, We’d have a bank of empty days— No equity to show. Instead of hoarding like a slave That which we should be spending, Invest it well in useful ways— Observe the interest grow! © Sandra M. Haight 2014 All Rights Reserved ~First Place~ October 21, 2014 Contest: Seize the Day (Carpe Diem) Sponsor: Regina Riddle

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet | |

Tree of Life

The tree of life grows limbs above,
Its strength began in roots of love...
Each limb's branches may grow apart
Yet venture not far from its heart.

Concentric circles share great worth
In trials it has endured since birth,
Having weathered many a storm
Defined by bent or twisted form.

Still beauty reigns throughout the years
In steadfast growth with hopes and fears,
As earthlife seasons come and go
A will to carry on and know,

Though treasured limbs may break and die,
Newest growth reaches for the sky.
Seedlings will spread, divine and free...
In honor of the mother tree.

© Connie Marcum Wong

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain | |

The Wisdom of Winter

Oh the memories of Spring
   much more the sweeter grow,
when you are at Autumn’s end
   and faced with Winter’s snow.

Oh the new and budding things
   that make for Spring’s delight,
fast mature in Summer’s day
   to fade in Autumn’s night.

Oh that it were Spring again,
   life pulsating anew;
hope dancing in its gentle breeze
   and promise in its dew!

Oh that it were Spring again,
   I’d more the wiser be,
and linger longer on its path
   of sweet simplicity!

But one cannot be wise in Spring
   for it’s a time to dream;
and only Winter sees the truth
   of every season’s scheme.

Sandra M. Haight

~2nd Place~
Contest: Resignation
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
Judged: 10/11/2016

~2nd Place~
Contest: Rhyme Time
Sponsor: Pendleton Arkwright
Judged: 08/17/2015

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse | |

The Footpath

The Footpath

The footpath to eternity

Crosses our sea of time


Horizon of mortality,

Where in Heaven sublime,

Souls bond.

© Sandra M. Haight 2015 
   All Rights Reserved

Contest: Memento of Waters ~ Visual #1
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Syllables Checked: 8,6,2,8,6,2

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku | |


Under starlit dome,
across the empty ocean,
I sail all alone.

Copyright © Arnab Mitra | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet | |



What playground does not hold the magic lure
Of see-saws firmly braced upon their stands?
What child resists excitement, felt for sure
In ups and downs: the hard thump when he lands
And surging thrill of bouncing up again—
To know that when he's hit that lowest low,
It's followed by a swing to new heights when
He'll know once more the joy of that plateau?

In contrast of the see-saw truth is found,
For truly, were it stable, it would bore
The simplest mind; for only from the ground
Does grandeur of the heavens make its score.

For only in imbalances we feel
The balance that keeps life on even keel.

Sandra M. Haight

~1st Place~
Contest: Celebrating My Faves
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Judged: 04/27/2016


~2nd Place~
Contest: My Favourite Forms – Haibun or Sonnet
Sponsor: Heather Ober
Judged: 10/09/2015


~4th Place~
Contest: Teeter-Totter: Balance the Load
Sponsor: Sheri Fresonke Harper
Judged: 10/07/2014

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2014

Details | Terza Rima | |

A Love So True

A Love So True

A love so true is what I’ve found in you my dearest one!
The depth of our shared emotions defy all description,
As they excite and enchant every aspect of our lives.

A love so true is a quest I started long ago to find you!
One so special with that undeniable smile and laugh;
One possessed with that rare angelic heart of gold.

A love so true binds us together even in strife and tribulation!
We find our shared thoughts and love do sustain us each day.
We renew our passion and commitment without reservation.   

A love so true blessed by our Lord God in Heaven above!
He watches over us now and gives us His true love always.
We walk in His divine path now, two souls forever as one.

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
January 13, 2016 (Unrhymed Tercet)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2016

Details | Questionku | |


If written by God,
Why lost rhyme, measure?

Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa | Year Posted 2012

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 | Verse | |

The Canvas

This poem is a farewell piece of advice to a group of students I have taught over the last four years. I do 
hope they find the metaphor meaningful and believe that they are the "architects of their own future."

Spread before you is a canvas of hope and opportunity Waiting to be painted with strokes of what you are and can be Waiting to be filled with colours that define you and the life you live Waiting to be stamped with the personality that only you can give To the portrait of your life, by itself a work of art A work which, on this day, with vigour you will start Spread before you is a canvas of vision and desire Waiting to be sketched with shades of passion and fire Waiting to be decorated with a story and theme Waiting to be etched with ambition that is now just a dream Of a picture whose tone, texture and style Would have made this work worth all the while Spread before you is a canvas, empty, yet full of space Waiting to be stroked with your wit, charm and grace Waiting to be brushed with strokes daring, vivid and bold Waiting to be painted with a story that can be told Of a life whose essence is one of sublime beauty Of a person who lived his life and did his duty Of a person who lived life the way it should be Of a complete canvas that will reflect many a memory.

Copyright © Alister Renaux | Year Posted 2009