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Metaphor Science Poems | Metaphor Poems About Science

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

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Details | Verse | |

A Plane and The Eagle

O'er tempest,soars the 
eagle with wings 
stretching towards the 
smiling sun.
    Up the sky,a figure 
with outstretched wings 
battling the turbulent 
wind and frowning sun.
      Soaring like an eagle-
Never an eagle.
      Gliding like an eagle-
Never an eagle.
      Mistaken for an eagle 
in the sky-never an eagle.
      Utter's sound as the 
eagle-never an eagle.
    This man-made 
under a stormy wind.
    For paid price-loss of 
    The works of mother-
nature can never be out-
dated or equalled.
    Frog-men under sea 
and frogs in the waters 
can bear witness.

Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu

Details | Shape | |

X Stuck Inside These Four Walls

Slipping away in time and space 

Stuck inside these four walls, lonely souls tangled and lost, they dance to

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				neres					                         e
o				seetv	
f				resne	

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and swirl inside of innuendos. They claim desires, the desire of  longing

The desires of love, they demand yet make no claims
        Opening hearts leads to bloodshed, despair, agony
                       The dance of desire leads only to emptiness
                                  So on misty clouds, the dancer dance
                                              Entwined in thought, yet never that first kiss

Sadly the love fades into the night

Copyright © arthur vaso

Details | Free verse | |


Written by Gail DeBole

The Universe's Velcro

Copyright © Gail DeBole

Details | Rhyme royal | |

Alone In The Dark

I opened my eyes,under. 
A bleak atmosphere-
deserted I beheld.
Sinuous channels flowing.
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 
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

Details | Free verse | |

Who Am I

A new photograph floats to the surface
Playfully dressing up as the world around me
Hat, striped socks and all
Tiptoeing at the top for one last sweet moment 
Before sinking back into my ocean mind.

One after another they arrive
Single file,
Steeping my eyes in the world 
As the minds shutter, ever fluttering 
Strings together this conscious stream I play in.

My photographs fade in time’s wrinkled arms.
Joining their brothers and sisters at the ocean floor,
They hold hands and try to answer the question that is always asking itself:
Who am I?

Jacob Reinhardt

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt

Details | Acrostic | |

Your Eyes

 (Dedicated to Folake)

Your eyes, woman
are like twilight rainbow
amorously bearing aloft passions of mine
toward androcytic ecstacy.
They tell of endless lights.

Night skies clarion the warmth of you
keep me balled-up till
i am tilted to your adorned essence.

May I call up words to adore you,
agglomerate them into a panoply of worshippers
unsandalled before you
like Moses at the burning bush.
And now you seem to fall asleep
but you tell me it's the heavy night
bidding toward a sunny dawn
wherein our love is lighted.

Slowly I let you fall asleep
impatient with the long night
waiting to gaze once more
into the eyes of my lovely love.

Then a lip is placed on yours
and you rouse up wide-eyed
smiling at my romantic move.
We enjoyed the night, cruising on.

Copyright © Onis Sampson

Details | Personification | |


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

Details | Sonnet | |

Last Breath

You were a shining Star.
Few of many in the sky.
Looking up so very high,
Not knowing why you are.

Close and set you are far.
Spinning flames  knot a tie,
I note a pattern just like pi.
Colliding with me you spar.

So burn it up and burn away,
Sow your heart upon a plane.
Chart your distance in the clay.
Burn it all up then call it sane.

The explosion in the sky is His death.
All burned up He has no last breath.

(R) Registered:  2013  Ann Rich

Copyright © Ann Rich

Details | Rhyme | |


The reason why the world is flat is simple;
why we don’t see round a bend and corner.
We search, inquire, to information garner,
but blinkered by self-imposed wimple.

A face lights up with broad smile and dimple;
a child’s delight to discover patch darner.
The reason why the world is flat is simple;
why we don’t see round a bend and corner.

Set views, a minor obstacle, mere pimple
on nose - sniff at life’s knowledge; a mourner
of preconceived ideas, is a *gonner.
Facts at our fingertips, owing to **Kimble:
The reason why the world is flat is simple. 

* dead
**Kimble County, Texas – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. 

Poetry form: Rondel (not listed by PS)

Copyright © Suzette Richards

Details | Sonnet | |


-- James Ph. Kotsybar

The zombies are coming; no one knows why –
no time to ponder such things anyhow.
Apocalypse gives us no time to cry.
Survival is all we can think of now.

They hunt for us in slow, relentless mobs
and push past all our barricades by force.
We stifle our screams and swallow our sobs
to realize we are just their food source.

There may exist a ruling, safe elite –
the privileged who caused our current woes
and watch us as we’re torn apart like meat –
but likely they’re no better off.  Who knows?

For us, they won’t sweep in to save the day.
To them, we never mattered anyway.

Copyright © James Ph. Kotsybar

Details | Free verse | |

A Spider's View

A Spider’s View

Walking his web
At ceiling corner
Gazing downward
Watching and waiting
Patience absolute.

Growing hungry
Eyes focused
Two victims
Fly and Lady Bug
Trapped in web.

Sense of doom
Survival of fittest
Stronger species
Spider’s appetite
Sustenance waiting.

Scheme of life—
With Darwin smiling
A winner, two losers
Strongest wins
And strongest eats.

A Spider’s View
On a typical day
Each day similar
But different
Result—the same.

Fixed in place
Or hanging around—
And multi-eyed—
An Acrobat Supreme!

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, 
(April 26, 2015) (Accentual Meter)

*Originally written for publication in my new book on February 18, 2015

Copyright © Gary Bateman

Details | Rhyme | |

Gibbs Free Energy

I am teetering at the brim of progress 
The self I spend to be of worth
Is the same self that I had to earn

And to what end? 
I ask,
At what fee?
The ones that stand down do so for free 

And all that’s left is work for me
(Fr , 


I hauled up, masochistic Sisyphus  
All they did was balk
Scatter, Jack and Jill   
Emptily talk 
About how hard, how far
I could not

And then for an instant I was on top

[King parenthetical]

They stood with their calculators

But negative RTlnKeq ???
Kb T times ln W   ???
Enthalpy minus T entropy,
Gives us the standard energy ???

I saw the people finally sap
It was halfway forward to halfway back

I felt something snap

And I fell unfathomably far 
To a different bottom
A different problem

I stood intermediate at the foot of the unknown
Before a taller peak to dethrone

Note: Gibbs Free Energy (delta G) is a thermodynamic parameter used to describe reactions and stability in chemistry. It is common to see a diagram of delta G vs. reaction progress. These free energy diagrams consist of continuous curves with peaks and troughs. The lower the energy, the more stable. 

Unfortunately you have to have significant background knowledge in chemistry to understand every reference.

Copyright © Jessica VH

Details | Prose | |

In the sea beer

Those two submarines are playing cards on their lunch break,
Suddenly a boiled egg passes and say:
-Hi five what you guys doing?
-We are playing cards
-Can I play?!
-This is only for members. 
-That's OK 
-I was going to the barbershop anyway,
- Ask Hydra for a Beer egg 
- I have been going to AA man are you crazy!,
The egg vomits 
The submarines laugh 
Hydra juggles

Dedicated to Professor Adriano Moreira


Details | Light Poetry | |

Illusion of Art in Mind

The mind is a play place of unique and distinct thought.
This brings me to thinking of things in my mind I brought.
I could create an image of all the things in the world in my mind.
The meaning of this is some times not so kind.
The recklessness of such choices could make me go insane.
The mind its self is complicated and it's own bane.
When things are so confusing and you see more things than one.
You may as well pack your bags because you are all done.
Minds do check out with creativity as its jail.
One could say it one way that we have a choice to bail.
On the journey of the thoughts of queasiness.
The mind thinks its like a business.
The idea of one image can set a chain of no relief.
That is why we lose our self with disbelief.
Lacking understanding of what we see.
Just means that our mine did not adapt to be.
The lines that our eyes show our brain does not go so well.
It is like a cracked ringing bell.
This is what we have acquired in our recent thought of knowledge.
In our mind we can stand outside without foul-edge.

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast

Details | Free verse | |

For Many a Millennia

For many a millennia
man has walked
       on this earth.
During this journey
he has learned much
but not enough
for his appetite.
To feed the hunger
he grows a special
a garden filled with
each year a bigger crop
is harvested to satisfy
the increasing need
        for knowledge.

For many a millennia
man has mauled
        and scarred
the face of the earth,
        has interrupted
        and disturbed
the workings of nature
with his pollution,
destruction, wars,
tearing down,
and building up --
events of mainly
technological origins.

For many a millennia
man's knowledge has enlarged,
now it's running amok.
If it continues
we will find ourselves
buried in long forgotten
tombs of earthen crust,
from space just holes
        and pot marks
in Terran soil,
on ground level
     vast wastelands
excavated by man
to feed technology,
to build concrete roads
        and buildings,
creating a Heaven for man,
a real hell for Earth,
a planet which millennia ago
was still uncluttered,
        much greener,
        pollution free.
A virgin among the stars
awaiting the then unknown
dawn of technological


Copyright © Michael Todd

Details | I do not know? | |

No Fariy Tales Allowed

Wire the letter
Enter the weather
Make a script
Be nice

Copyright © Jimmi Canada

Details | Free verse | |

The book the wizaed wrote part five

But you cant keep this book intact its not allowed 
your soul will not bear it 
do you keep all the prophecies to be a part of the truth 
do you tear out the love and find just the directions to eternal youth\ 
do you keep the satanic metaphors to reveal the author had a horrible soul 
this test upon humanity is sitting by the riverside
Love for sale in western mail
Love for sale in western mail
Watching it all go down is given to every woman child mother father adult 
and then you create how its passed down to the future but its never whole 

one day I will write this book and you will all dream 
Pushing the limits
So many nights crying
The limits that limits that change
About its entirety 
go from house to house 
to read the book 
with pages missing to compare it to yours 
to fathom family legacies and opinions 
Born to please
to try to understand the truth of oppression and decisions and accuracy and 
and in this book I will write stories and I will write traditions and I will write games 
and I will write sanities and insanities 
but what you keep and what you throw away 
stay away from the river man
The water is cold
Don’t ever set me free
Born to dream
Of those days of warm rays
No one has a clue
You’re safe when they hear me
But they’re gonna clue in
When they see the sneak
They clueing in
All their strength not to fall apart
Satellite secret moments shadowed in the heat of the afternoon
To the holiday
They will always want by their side

they’re cluing into the bird lady

Doing things my way
they’re cluing in to little miss daisy
is another test 
another dream another curse 
another prayer of metaphor 
another chain 
of soft spoken words
to never have answered 
something this generation had that memory can only answer 
and the death wish of not cooperating leave you upon a grave of cand’lit flames 
and hells passed on to legacies of hell the arch angels tell you to tear down 
walls to cripple you all 

Everything blue eyes
Unbelievable ways
Sky of white stars exotic
Magical times

Broken faith makes me
your new book of god 
And I’m running out of here
Or no way at all
Running out of here

makes me

And I’m running out of here
And I’m running out of here
Come to the reason
You really got me
I wasn’t fake
come to the light
back to the middle

Copyright © Troy Jeremy Nelson

Details | Rhyme | |

Mount Etna's Dragon

Burping sulfurous fumes
its fiery belly heaves,
as gas and ash erupt
knocking me to my knees.

Beneath the pumice beats
a throbbing heart of heat,
and I can feel its pulse
surging below my feet.

Treading on crackling skin
I weigh each step I take,
or face Icarus’s fate
and pay for my mistake.

I approach carefully 
knowing that I could die,
for beneath its chard brow 
I spy the monster’s eye.

Mount Etna's dragon stirs
the imagination,
as molten lava fills
caldron of creation.

Copyright © Emile Pinet

Details | Rhyme | |

Love and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

(Rhyming Senryu)

Cold and careful hands
Dismantle love’s elements

The eye detecting
Fragile fractured copper threads

Concentrating fire
Melting metal, soldered wire
Mending circuitry

Testing, one, two, three
The current, interrupted
Now set flowing free

How beautifully
Cool flux and hot flame restore

Love’s analogy
Motorcycle maintenance

by Gail

Copyright © Gail Foster