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Metaphor Women Poems | Metaphor Poems About Women

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

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Details | Free verse | |

ISIS

She's the first image of God
the Alpha    the Omega
the beginning   NO end
the highest evolution of God
God sent
the Black woman is God
nappy   nappy
the master
the servant
still happy  happy
the first image of God
strength that cannot be broken
soul that cannot be bought with a
silver or gold token
YES! 
she’s the first image of God
Mother of the rainbow children
Lucy    Auset   Isis    Virgin Mary
I know  
sounds scary   scary
the Black woman is God
skin as brown as dirt 
divine flower sprung from the earth
she’s the first image of God
Original descender
return of Christ
Nibiru ascender
the universal womb of God
divine womb   divine wombman
holding the knowledge of God
the Black woman is the mystery of God
 Isis   Genesis 
genealogy of God

Copyright © Nailah Baniti | Year Posted 2016

Details | Imagism | |

Anima Mystique

A requiem can faintly be heard 
     in the springtime breeze
as dandelion's morph from gold 
     blossoms to a crown of 
seeds in downy tufts to begin their 
     airborne journey to
germinate and recreate with a drive 
     to survive even the 
harshest weather, a plethora of 
     pesticides, and weeding.

Ah, can not the feminine form be 
     celebrated in comparison?
As her entourage of suitors lifts her 
     spirits to soar blissfully
until she establishes that one special 
     connection that causes
her bloom, that innate ineluctable 
     calling to mate and procreate.
Though trials, illness, and hardships appear,
     future generations ineffably endure
in season's springtime, as love renews life.


May 4, 2016
Animus/Anima--Part 1: Anima - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Tom Quigley


Definition of anima:
 NOTE: Just for the etymology of the word Anima dear, Connie! Anima, Animal, Animation and so on are words that come for the Greek word "Anemos" which in the Greek philosophy meant the divine wind which filled the universe and which wind "anemos" Man breathed in and became "Alive" animated!
-thank you for this Demetrios.


Note: I may have done this contest all wrong?

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016

Details | Lyric | |

A poem for YOU

In this world of Uncertainties I’m the man that you can trust And in my words of sincerity That my love would never last. And if you could only feel, what i feel for you You can ask me “why?” so you can see the truth Like our love that tightens the rope, Like a light that would give us hope. As you watch the dark skies Let me grab the moon for you, And as I catch the bright stars That’s the way you can see me through As this planet turns as it always will And things go wrong and you don’t know what to feel Hold my hand for it will make us strong Like a wind, we will carry on The wind blow that sings a hymn for you For they know what does love means for the two Love is blind, and not deaf So how’s success if you’re not ready to bet? In this poem with full of rhymes, A full of love, Babe can you be mine? I don’t expect too much from you Why should I? If you complete my whole. “Till death do us part” that’s what they have said But why do struggles crash them ahead? Don’t ask me when my love will last, To count all of our quarrels, is that a must? Now and Forever is all that I promise No day dreaming and without reminiscence As the matter of time, as the time passes by Together we stand, together you and I
A poem for my Girlfriend for our anniversary :) pls comment and rate... you are free to judge and criticize my work :) God Bless

Copyright © Emmanuel Fajutagana | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode | |

Ode to a Mellow Glass of Chardonay - by Michael Dom

Marvellous Mellow Glass of Chardonnay
What was my life before you came my way?
My parched throat and tongue, my taste buds were rife,
My heart, my mouth, with the raw taste of life!
I would sweat by my brawn, or by my brows, 
Through the days and nights, for a wife and house;
But, with a Mellow Glass of Chardonnay,
My troubles and strife’s seem to wash away!
My heart, my mouth, would taste the sprite of life
If you were woman, I’d make you my wife!






*A poem written on a request from Keith Jackson AM.

Copyright © Michael Dom | Year Posted 2014

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 © Nailah Baniti | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme | |

STASHING CASH 2

Where I'm from we don't do debts, fronts, or take tabs
They don't understand nothing but stashing cash
Put that money on the head, you don't need a mask
They don't understand nothing but stashing cash
How is a broke fool gon' try and smash
They don't understand nothing but stashing cash

Money on my mind like bread on a sandwich

I run the city, they're the lights, I'm the switch

I stand for what's mine, never see me slip and fall

I'm runnin' the race, you're a baby with a slow crawl

My cash stay on point, like a sharpened pencil

Try 'n' copy my style, you gon' need mo' than a stencil

I don't be's in the trap, buy my workers put-in overtime

Feds can't catch me, never see me committin' crime

That's why from time to time I shoot 'em a raise

And tell 'em to stash cash for those rainy days

If money talk, then there's nothing to say

If B.S walk, none of ya' fools can stay

My money talkin' for me, betta' yet, it's in a conversation

Ya' look like money; make money, nice observation

They say the love of money's the root of all evil

So how much money will it take to really love people

Copyright © Arcene Janvier | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose | |

She

She's the flour in the middle of a fertile desert soil
She dreams of my dreams when i dream she dreams dreams that we dream
She's a speechless pole
She's a footstep away from my soul
She dreams of my goal
She's my African queen
Her womb carriers the nation's poetry
She takes me back to my dreams in chains
I make my own God she believes
She's one minute past jealousy
She's the speed of an angry poem in the dark
The black paint building an arch
The spirit of a mic resurrected by a dead poem
Speechless pole stronger than cone
She's my poem
She's my poetic lyrical port
I can see by the blushes right under my rhymes
She's so beautiful she makes you read her repetedly
She's my poem

Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

The halo effect

If there is one thing I remember
It is what life told
Just open your eyes
All that glisters may not be gold
So who is to blame and whose fault I hold
The halo effect, the one in disguise
Manifesting deception in front of thy eyes
Treat one different because of their look
Why read? Judge the cover of the book?
But you do read others because they don’t have the look
If you understand, how long has it took?
The halo effect, we magnify a trait
Condone the flaws, we magnify a trait
Attractiveness, is this what you mean?
All this talk, my perception a feign?
What I see, aint what it seem?
Huh, thanks for this, as well as that.
The halo effect, my mind was hacked. 

Copyright © Darian Brown | Year Posted 2013

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 | Rhyme | |

STASHING CASH 1

Where I'm from we don't do debts, fronts, or take tabs
They don't understand nothing but stashing cash
Put that money on the head, you don't need a mask
They don't understand nothing but stashing cash
How is a broke fool gon' try and smash
They don't understand nothing but stashing cash

My Green could fill-up a Bay, need a few Packers

Haters look, fold and crumble like Ritz-crackers

Money comes and goes, but you know mine stays

Like a well-trained dog, sometimes it even lays

Money brings power, respect, gotta' have the jewels

Call me a handy-man, I stay with my tools

I know it sounds messed-up, but it's money-over-everything

My weight's been up, you just started like a flower in spring

My money keeps flippin', like some Burgers on a grill

Money on me heavy, like a work-out, makes me sweat fo'real

Active, got a million hustles, I'm motivated and dedicated

Call me and money happily married, we can't be separated

Not talking movies, but I bet you ain't seen this in a while

My money's long, go 'head, call it the green mile

Long as I'm stashing cash, I'll always come out on top

Like a junkie smokin' dope, me making money won't stop

Copyright © Arcene Janvier | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

PLAYER 1

I spit game proper, like a pro-batter, I got the right stroke
I work deals, like it's Black-Friday, I'm far from broke
I can't help but make the girl proud and gay
Want some of my time, like takes, you too gotta' pay

She don't act up, but she's so bad, discipline

Put her in time-out, punishment, a great beatin'

When I'm hittin' her good, she calls me daddy

I'm her trophy, showcase me, friends wish they had me

Too easy, always give it up, her man call it robbery

Termite, loves wood, told me have my log handy

Do what I order, like a puppet, no-strings-attached

Not a crook, but like a purse, your chick got snatched

Not intimate, gold-digger, money makes her cum

It's me, her, and a bag of money, three-sum

You got flushed-down-the-drain, but I'm the crap, feces

You're gone, don't make 'em like me, endangered species

Got fire-wood, leave the 'coochie' smoking like a Newport

Done with you, on to the next, long stick, but life's short

Get attached, space myself, I come around less

Bad sex, back-stabbing, bull, I ain't with the B.S

Copyright © Arcene Janvier | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse | |

Tree

follow on facebook,
adore on pinterest,
fall in love on instagram,
kiss on a hunch,
all under a tree.

Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Your Secret Place

Everyone should have a secret place
where everything is so beautiful, you just belong
as peaceful as a day is long, an out of your usual pace,
sounds of nature all about, where birds sing there song,

Meditation replaces frustration, along your happy trail
moving about streams, pine trees as tall as a waterfall
where pine cones grace a foliage landscape  so surreal,
woes are meaningless about green grass, lollypop bushes

A cool spring where skinny dipping hasn’t a sign to obey
trails going every which way, too choose, you can’t lose…
your way, this sunny day, misty spray, a couple out to play,
no weight to bare, deadlines to meet, nor fail too win

time only absent from laughter heard as children frolic there...
in a caressing manner, with her long hair draped about your face,
sounds echo off boulders where water flows by gallons everywhere
yes - your secret place, where good time memories are your true nature

Copyright © Perry Campanella | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

PISTOL READY 1

Hood fellow, pull her hair like I do the trigger
Plenty of cash, don't care if she's a gold-digger
She broke-up with her ex and got me, lost and found
Get in bed, take out my pistol, let off a round
Shoot her up, shoot her up, bang, bang
Blowing on my mic', the best song she ever sang

The chick's riding me, she started to pant

She dropped down low, started giving brain, transplant

She's eating that wood, like she's a termite

Got something to quench her thirst, but it's not sprite

I think I might go down-town, to get some dessert

She's like a water gun when she climax, squirt

Always takes showers, but she's oh so dirty

Started at three, it's going on four-thirty

Make sure I meet her needs, you're a minute man

She say I got flavor, but you're kinda' bland

I'm speeding, you get home at six, it's rush-hour

Gotta' clean up for you, hit it in the shower

She's so wet, it's like swimming in the ocean

Hop out the shower, dry off, wipe her down with lotion

Starts to get upset, said she wanted me to stay

Ain't in Florida, but she might go M.I.A

Copyright © Arcene Janvier | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

'Give me drink, rest, and solitude'

Give me drink, rest, and solitude--
these are all the things I long for.
Give me as well your finest food
and I'll ask of you, lass, no more!

My bonnie lass, what's the matter--
why are you all sorry and alone?
Don't be sad because you're fatter
than most, lass, for love loves its own.

Sweet lass, I'll tell you a secret.
If I were a young lad again,
I'd pursue you without regret!
But as I am three-score and ten

years old, indeed, I can never
be the youthful lad you most need.
But your pain won't be for ever:
for your heart will refuse to bleed.



Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Only in You

Through the lonely woods, I may head,

Upon the autumn leaves, I may tread,

At the secluded horizon, I may stare,

And only you, I may see,

In those symphonies of silence,

In those melodies of calmness,

In those euphonies of quietness.

 

By the silent lake, I may lay,

Till the twilight fades, I may stay,

Then in reclusive silence, I may walk,

And only to you, I may talk,

Through those toungueless emotions,

Through those wordless attachments,

Through those voiceless sentiments.

 

In the lone meadow, I may wander,

Along the untrodden paths, I may waver,

In companionless seclusion, I may hide,

And only in you, I may find,

The depths of oneness,

The bonds of togetherness,

The cozy feel of coalescence.

 

In the wilderness of emotions, I may die,

At the merciless daggering, I may sigh,

Through a million wounds, I may bleed,

And only in you, I may seek,

The balm of love,

The warmth of affection,

The heal of inseparability.

Copyright © Suyash Saxena | Year Posted 2013

Details | Clerihew | |

Not, yet

I dreamt myself as poet-frog
And good Fancy` Fairy
Would stoop to pick my verse…
But she didn`t come.

Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

A Departing Memory

I know you.
Candles lit, incense fuming,
You like it when I bite your neck, just hard enough.
Blankets thrown about the room
So recklessly, they refold themselves.

And we roll down a hill together,
Kissing the leaves, tickling with our eyes,
Laughing with our hearts.
"You'll just leave me for the next girl you find."
"Yes," I say. Because only
Nothing
Lasts forever.
And it spills through the cracks in your hands
The moment you grasp it.
Like water from a stone.
She bites my neck
Drawing lines of ecstasy down my back with her fingernails
Spilling into me, fighting my words.
"I leave when the sun sets."



Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

PISTOL READY 2

Hood fellow, pull her hair like I do the trigger
Plenty of cash, don't care if she's a gold-digger
She broke-up with her ex and got me, lost and found
Get in bed, take out my pistol, let off a round
Shoot her up, shoot her up, bang, bang
Blowing on my mic', the best song she ever sang

Got flavor, cold with all this ice, like a 'Slurpee'

Got something for your chick to drink, she slurps me

Definitely ain't praying, but she gets on her knees

Her head game is fire, nine-hundred-degrees

It's like she's educating me, gives me good brain

While she's down there, I pull her hair, like a horse's mane

She's a vampire, sucking on the neck of my second head

Not the one on my shoulders, but the one used in bed

She told me to eat her out, went down and bit it

She can't stand violence, but loves the way I hit it

Beat the 'Coochie' up, bedroom turned into a boxing arena

Call it domestic violence, no court, no subpoena

Riding me, I'm thinking 'bout gettin' her a saddle

We rocking the boat right now, ain't got a paddle

Making a movie, this the best part, 'bout to climax

She loves when I come over, got everything her man lacks

Copyright © Arcene Janvier | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

The Petty Posh-WahZee - Liberation and Ostentation



The Petty Posh-Wahzee - Liberation & Ostentation


The Not-So Distant Past:

The fallen fighters for freedom, are unable to turn in their graves,
their battered, fragmented bones, mixed with a handful of torn rags,
are all that remain, a mute reminder of their selfless valiant sacrifice.

They endured brutal Apartheid harassment, detentions without trial,
torture in the cells, and mental anguish when loved ones disappeared,
they left their homeland, to continue the struggle against racial bigotry,
while countless others fought the scourge of white-minority rule at home.

Nelson Mandela and many, many others, spent their lives imprisoned,
on islands of stone, and on islands of the cruellest torture, yet they stood,
never bowing, never scraping, they stood, firm for ideals for which they were prepared to die,

and many, many comrades did die, at the hands of the callous oppressor,
and many, many comrades perished in distant lands, torn from their homes,
while the struggle continued, for decades, soaked in blood, in tears, in pain.


The Present:

19 years have passed, since freedom was secured at the highest of prices,
delivering unto us, this present, a gift of emancipation from servitude,

a freedom to walk this land, head held high, no longer second-class citizens,
in the land of our ancestors, whose voices we hear and need to heed today.

I do not care much for fashion, Lewis-Fit-On and Sleeves unSt.-Moron,
yet the ostentation that I witness baffles even my unsophisticated palate,

our ancestors' plaintive whispers are being dismissed, left unheeded, as
we browse the aisles for more and more, always for more and yet more.

Asphyxiated by the excess of the Petty Posh-Wahzee, we find ourselves,
perched precariously on the edge, of a dissolution of all that is humane,

babies go hungry, wives are battered, our elders left in hospitals for hours,
I cringe as I scribble these words, perhaps too sanctimonious and preachy,

yet I know, deep in the marrow of my brittle bones, I know, I know, I know,
this tree of freedom planted by the nameless daughters and sons of Africa,

needs to be shielded, nurtured, protected from our very own baser impulses,
so that the precious tree of freedom, may bear the fruit that may feed us all,

for if not, then we are doomed, to tip over, and into the yawning abyss, we shall fall.







Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

What Am I-Niagara-w

I am the Antiope of Canada, Amazonian, but not breast less, Snowy bosom like virginal gems, Swelling lips moderately full, Savoury odor felt all around, Crystalline throat striking the eyes. Meandering, churning, darting, dashing, Transformed from blonde to brunette. Here alluring, benign, attenuated, There corpulent, colossal, capering, Practicing calisthenics all the time. Raquel Welch in ‘One Million Years B.C.’ Wily Cleopatra, the Scythian of Ordzhonikidze, Carnal Marilyn, matured Helen of Troy, Venus in Aries, Mars in Pisces. Broad bellied, middle-aged, deep, Now bulging belle of Detroit, Encircling the wooing Windsor, Yet the Blithe spirit of Pelee Island.
============================== March 15, 2014 Dr. Ram Mehta Form: Free Verse Eighth Place Win Contest What Am I by PD I have used: Personification,Alliteration, Hyperbole, simile, metaphor and synecdoche :

Copyright © Dr.Ram Mehta | Year Posted 2010

Details | I do not know? | |

celsius

Fallen snow will remind of me/ it is snowing ... 
Slowly as in the dream/ 
Boy word-beads/ with signs on his spine/ 
He kisses fine/ 
Your eyelids /

And it snows ... It snows /so slow/
It does/ and you're thinking of me/ 
'Coz it's warm/ it's better to stay in warmth/ 
Waiting for summer dim/ 
It is snowing/ slowly like in the dream/ 
Flakes/ go round/ playing the music theme/ 
You've been looking for rescue/ 
You searched in wine/ 
But it's in me/ 
all the rescues are mine/ 
It is snowing/ the snow is fluffy and white/ 
If you see darkness/ I'm deaf and blind/ 
there's the cast of time/ on the arm/ 
But I discern the light/ 
Dreams/ upon your eyelids tips/ 
Prepare you for winter drowse/ 
And it snows/ 

Fallen snow/ will remind of spring /
it will crumble and crackle in vain/ 
It will snow / fluffy /white/ and slow/ 
And you'll become whole/

Copyright © Ilya Emelin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

TAX BABY

Hospitals slave trade
give us the baby’s name
they will not RELEASE the baby
unless we give them the baby’s name
operating on fear
we give them the baby's name
certificate of sale, contract
they own our baby’s name
slavery 
nine digits becomes our baby’s names
zeros  after  zeros
taxing our baby’s names
hospital slave trade
give us the baby’s name
they will not RELEASE the baby
unless we give them the baby’s name
birth certificate of sale
  contract
tax I.D. the baby’s name

Copyright © Nailah Baniti | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Southern Charm

Lies saunter through bent brow’d occasion,
teasing the elegant disposition of 
wilting Dixie flowers.
Glass clinks together,
in unison with a common cackle.
Snakes in the grass;
Coming to suck their eggs,
but there’s no ruffled feathers here. 
It’s just another warm southern night,
amid the fire;
Nature will take it’s course.
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.

Copyright © James Kelley | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative | |

The Raisin in the Box of Chocolates

"I agree," Bayard murmured while looking at the few people walking I across the street. Summer was over and the boy was beginning to get frustrated at the sight of girls wrapped in blankets of clothes. 

"Bayard do you even know what I just said?" Lyel interrupted his brother's observations. "Could you at least pretend to care once in a while?"

"I heard what you said man, relax." He took the cup off of the table without bothering to turn his head. He sipped his coffee in the most nonchalant manner. 

"I hope that caramel frapuchino is to your liking. It cost some people money you know."

"It's decent."

Lyel turned his attention back to the small pile of papers sitting on the table, "Mhm how to end this chapter. Maybe I should end it with the girl confessing." 

"Stop with your story for a while or two and take a look at the outside world. By the way don't forget to give that girl a body that makes the guys stare." 

"No. See you weren't paying attention when I was telling you about my story. Women don't need bodies for a man to love them. Why do I even share my ideas with you?" Lyel placed the papers back inside a blue folder.

"Because you have no one else. Finish your coffee after all you paid for it. The coffee here is good after all."

"You almost did not want to come in here in the first place."

"That's because this place looks like crap from the outside." 

"Anyways how was trick or treating with your friends yesterday?"

"Finally a topic that doesn't involve your lame romances. It was one of the best ones so far. We went to this neighborhood on the west side of the city. Bro you should have been there. Haha a whole neighborhood full of girls with sexy Halloween costumes. I couldn't decide wether the chick with the devil costume was better than the one with the cat costume. Man awesome night." Bayard placed his hands behind his head and laid back on the chair.

"What about the haunted houses? The candy?" 

"There was this one house where there was a graveyard and zombies. This girl was too scared to go in it. So I told her I'll hold her. We all got good candy in that house."

"I hope you saved some candy for me too."

"I did. Some candy corn. I'm pretty sure you like it."

The waiter went to the brothers' table inquiring if they needed anything else. Lyel politely declined and thanked the waiter for his kindness. Breakfast was almost over and the scent of coffee was beginning to fade. There was only a few people in the shop. An old man lost in the swirling of his coffee and a young man sitting in the corner reading.

"So as I was saying. When I got home I ate some twix and kit kats, but then I found this box of chococate chips. Strange because this was the first time I received this box before." 

"It must be only in that neighborhood."

"I opened it and at the top was a raisin. One raisin in a box of chocolate chips."

The sound of the bell on the front door rung more frequently as the hands on the clock tired in their endless cycle. Lyel's coffee no longer had steam. It was getting cold.

"What did you do with the raisin?"

"I threw it away and ate the chocolates. What else would I do with it? I was there for the chocolates."

"Eat the raisin. Why would you throw away a perfectly good raisin away?"

"No one choses the raisin over the chocolates man. Why would you? What if the raisin was poisoned?

"The raisin is ten times less likely to be poisoned than the chocolates since there are more brutes than intelligent people." 

"Hey stop being a smart ass. Let's put this in real world terms alright. Let's say the chocolate chips are the hot girls in the devil and cat Halloween costumes. The raisin is some ugly chick in a chipmunk costume or something. Who would you chose?"

"The girl in the chipmunk costume. Looks have nothing to do with my decision."

"Bro are you serious? Even if you were insane that is a no-brainer."

"And that is exactly what is wrong with society. No brains. I'll pick the raisin over the chocolates any day and I'm sure I'm not the only one. Even if I was I'm not afraid to walk alone in my opinion."

"So what you are saying is that instead of a box of chocolates we should give a box of raisins on Valentine's day?"

"Maybe we should since people have forgotten what really matters."

The shop had more people now and people were beginning to stare at the two brothers arguing. Bayard noticed this and took the last sip of his coffee. He brushed his dark hair back and stood up. "Whatever I finished my coffee. Let's go."

Copyright © Andres Rocha | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

The Broken Girl-not me

Is my life not tortured enough for you to see? 
I am broken as can be. 
My heart is torn. 
My tears stain these perfect floors.  
Why are singing with glee? 
Why do you not care about my every plea? 
I am trapped in your arms. 
I am the hopeless moth. 
How did you pick me? 
What is it that you see? 
A girl untouched by life? 
A flower blooming in the desert? 
I have said goodbye to my loving integrity.  
You took that from me through R-A-P-E.

Copyright © Layla Elkoulily | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Love's persistence

Love's persistence


Drip...Drip...Drip...as drops fall to the rocks below

Split...Split...Split... the rocks split open from the persistent flow

Try...Try...Try...I try to penetrate your heart of solid stone

Know...Know... Know...I know with persistence our love too can grow

Open...Open...Open...your heart cracked wide open for me

Now we know with love's persistence our hearts can be together and be free


John Derek Hamilton
April 04,2016

Copyright © John Hamilton | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? | |

You and I



You and I.


You.

Your heart blazed,
with a warmth of spirit,

soothing,

alluring,

soaked in truth.



Your smile burned,
branding me permanently,

gentle,

tender,

enveloping my being.



Your love was complete,
from the depths of your soul,

unsaid,

yet fierce,

bathed in silent knowing.



Your dreams were poetic,
fluttering in the afternoon breeze,
infused with the distilled essence of rhyme.


I.

I squandered your generosity of spirit.

I vainly discarded your priceless poems.


Now I stand,

alone,

empty,

desolate,

wasting away,

rotting inside, day by day.



Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Freeway

I fell asleep in my dream

at the wheel, 
unfolded maps on the car's floor

to wake up to her smile 
not once but twice.

Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme | |

The Bourgeois and the Spinning Wheel

In a room filled with a solitary red hue
The bourgeois spins a wheel
With no destination, nor need
She will spin until her brittle Hands bleed
Just to satisfy her ennui and artifice
But she does not see - the rien I see
The monster approaching her empty dreams

Spinning still - she does not know
The insomniac rose will begin to grow
The thorn of clandestine and ebony
Ostracized for he began to realize
What lies in nonsense is decadence
Which sparks interest
Who's lover is a dadaist
But his story is over now
As Seth lead the way
A poet dies in dismay

The thorn as she spun penetrated
A distraction and a lack of action
She knew the temptation for she so loved the sensation
Of crass, rebellious - ways 
The thought laid it's seed
In her Gaulish mind it breeds
She has no other need and no regrets
So she proceeds and the smile lets
With full intention and desire
Caring none of her fate that will transpire 
She presses her finger on the thorn 
So now she bleeds knowingly
she did not recede

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2012