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Best Hyperbole Poems

Below are the all-time best Hyperbole poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of hyperbole poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Hyperbole Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Hyperbole poems are below this new poems list.

BLASE ABOUT HYPERBOLE by Grenness , Julie
OF HYPERBOLE by Grenness , Julie
HYPERBOLE OF BEAUTY by Amada, Sarki
FREE CEE refining and mainlining hyperbole by cohan, jeffry
HALF-HEARTED HYPERBOLE by naces, romeo
half-hearted hyperbole by naces, romeo
Hyperbole No More by Weber, John
Clannish Hyperbole by naces, romeo

View all new Hyperbole Poems

The Best Hyperbole Poems

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I See You

I See You...

Wanderer, wanderer, lost in the haze
void of direction, succumb to the craze.
Give ear to my madness, so deftly designed;
deception de-jour: aimed to muddle your mind.

Hocus and pocus no need for free thought, 
erase your opinions, your conscious to rot.
As sugar and soda your smile decay,
a hoax and swindle, then off on your way. 

Smoke and a mirror, please don’t look too close.
The truth makes one banal; drugs for the morose.
Illusion can conjure emotions untapped
a quick misdirection, now I’ve got you trapped. 

You think you arrived here, quite all on your own
you’re one of a billion, another sad clone…
I’ve stolen the treasure that once made you free
brainwashed you to thinking all’s as it should be.

Gobbledygook and hyperbolized drivel
platitudes, platitudes, mentally shrivel;
accept what I tell you, and not an ounce more,
wanderer, wanderer, you’re lost evermore. 

07/12/15


Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015

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A Gentle Breeze

It begins with a gentle breeze
rustling the leaves with its touch.
Scurrying through the tops of trees,
it begins with a gentle breeze.
Not enough to discourage bees,
it’s only brisk, it isn't much.
It begins with a gentle breeze
rustling the leaves with its touch.

It’s only brisk, it isn't much,
until that breeze begins to gust.
Yet, birds can still escape its clutch,
it’s only brisk, it isn't much.
It topples garbage cans and such,
gathering up a cloud of dust.
It’s only brisk, it isn't much,
until that breeze begins to gust.

Gathering up a cloud of dust
it dims the sun's diminished light.
And attacks with increasing thrust,
gathering up a cloud of dust.
As shutters squeak and hinges bust,
a furious gale gives them flight.
Gathering up a cloud of dust
it dims the sun's diminished light.

A furious gale gives them flight,
as slate shingles fly through the air.
Morphing into objects of might,
a furious gale gives them flight.
Folks find cover and hang on tight,
for flying debris packs a scare.
A furious gale gives them flight,
as slate shingles fly through the air.


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

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'Pardon me, could you pass the Grey Poupon'

Winds caressing fringes of
   her deep chocolate tresses
as tree nymphs nimbly hid
  midst fallen maple leaves 
    happily prancing round toes,
whilst a crescendo of chimes
   played off in near distances,
warm apple pie aroma wafting
 upon a zephyr tickling her nose,
unfastened her reddish cloak 
  for her e'er plunging neckline
exposed an ample décolletage
 voluptuously heaving in broad
 daylight waiting to seduce a crafty
wolf in sheep's clothing she had afore
  encountered on the way to grannies, 
called ahead to make reservations
for her & handsome knighted chef
hiding amidst the dark forest with
his trusty sharpened butcher knife,
had acquired Wolfgang Puck's
   wickedly-satisfying secret recipe
        for savory pack-of-wolves stew 


Li'l Reddish Revenge is a dish best served cold-blooded with liberal
scads of punitive napkins and a bottle of vindictively chilled Chianti


Copyright © Paloma P | Year Posted 2016

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elbbabohcysp

There's a place whence children dwell amid fairy stories, popcorn rainbows & candied unicorns, which is fine & dandy except when you're supposed to be a grown-ass adult, some people live 'round La-La landscapes without a hint of reality's woefulness, unable to read skywriting on the cosmos If you believe in miracles or that nothing ever changes and love lasts forever and a day or just say, you got a damn ticket because your unicorn was inconveniently double-parked, rest assured thine meter is delusional


Copyright © Paloma P | Year Posted 2016

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Ugly Words

Words with such ugly meanings
do not belong in the everyday conversation.
Contrary to popular belief
you can live another day
without disgusting proclamations.
In what way is saying, "That girl's hot as sh*t"
a compliment?
These words are not to be used frivolously
like so many condiments.
A dashing here,
and a dashing there.
What am I, Emeril Lagasse, saying BAM!
for flair?
They are not rays of sunshine
popping out of the clear blue sky.
Nor are they functioning wings
that make you soar high.
I know in truth most don't care;
F-this and f-that,
I mean really, what are you
trying to get at?
If it's just a personality trait
then I guess I'm stuck at a locked gate.
I'm not trying to pick a lock,
this is truly just how I talk.
... for sure not attempting to spread hate,
I just find it all quite unappealing.
Is it too much to ask
to measure up your words
with how you're actually feeling?


Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2014

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This Year In English Quintain

Someone is knocking at my door The night’s cold, my world’s dying and drear It’s Good Joy. Cheers! No more, no more Oh dear, I cannot open the door for her Sorry Joy, glide by, I’m sick and not in my gear. Someone is knocking at my door The night’s cold, my world’s dying and drear It’s Good Hope but I can’t be lured. In dark shadows I grope, what makes you come here? I know you mock the life, glide by, I desire. Someone is knocking at my door The night’s cold, my world’s dying and drear Oh, It’s Good Health. This year you won’t be ignored Welcome, I dart my doors open for you, dear. I do need nothing but your blessings this year.
+++ January 15, 2015 Form: Quintain (English-ABABB)


Copyright © Dr.Ram Mehta | Year Posted 2015

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Bursts Of Light-Visual:6

Like shooting stars they pierce the dark, and paint the sky with bursts of light. As oohs and aahs follow each spark, like shooting stars they pierce the dark. Rockets explode over the park, raining color unto the night. Like shooting stars they pierce the dark, and paint the sky with bursts of light. Written May 23rd, 2015 for contest “ONE LOVELY SUMMER TRIOLET”.


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

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Dragon Eyes

She enters the room like a storm,
thunder rumbling within her wake.
And a deluge of tears follow,
as the very ground seems to quake.

She’s an explosion of fireworks,
as spectacular as the dawn.
And unleashing flames of fury,
in a blinding flash she is gone. 

A lady to be reckoned with,
fire flares in her dragon eyes.
And strikes fear in the hearts of men,
exposing their secrets and lies.

A source of fiery energy,
her eyes illuminate the night.
And her aura intensifies,
to a burst of exquisite light.


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

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Last Lingering Light

A scarlet sun bleeds onto a blue sky,
behind branches of a majestic oak.
And shadows ink its leaves in silhouette,
as lonely crickets chirp and bullfrogs croak.

I can hear the crops rippling in the breeze,
and a brook babbling with a southern drawl.
Yet, they’re lost to the quiet of night,
as time slows to a perceptible crawl. 

When adventurous moths take to the air,
acrobatic bats blindly hunt in flight.
And as darkness descends like a curtain,
day acquiesces to the might of night.

A quicksilver moon pools amidst the clouds,
dripping drops of sunshine onto the lake.
And all of heaven soon starts to glitter,
as billions of sleeping stars now awake.

The hooting of an owl encourages dusk
to extinguish the last lingering light.
And diurnal animals go to sleep,
as nature silently whispers, Goodnight.



Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

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The Eye is Such a Braggart

The eye is such a braggart with its emerald this and hazel that.
Does no one dream about an ear or a nose?
(personally ... I find the shin and pinkie toe quite fascinating)
But it is a place the Poet seldom goes,
still hot on cornea fever ... stanza after stanza after

stanza.

It's like I'm part of a Dickens' novel: A Tale of Two Spheres      (oh dear)
Velvet pupils coming at you ... (attention spans beware ... we're discussing EYES)

... but what about the palms and the cowlick?
(do you have the gumption to make it poetic?)

Or is it back to the drawing board - sleepless nights
excavating further facets of the dead-lights.

I know its "infinite depths" make you sigh with Shakespearean fervor,
but really, enough is enough,
when there's so much more of me to love.

Have you so quickly forgotten the beauty of a rose?
(plug your nose and see how it goes)
I want so bad to see that lovely weirdness
chilling out beneath your temples.

I pray it's not too much to ask for a little ink spilled
to the one who showed you piano,
the sound of rain, your mother's voice.

(that curious curvature holding up your glasses
deserves a rhyme or two
... not another verse
about my baby blues!)

Just once I wanna hear someone say,
Your nose makes my heart run ...
Your chewed off fingernail brings to mind the crescent moon ... !

For your next Magnum Opus could you spare some room
for the underdog anatomy.

Did you know I have a crooked ear that's more endearing
than a heart carved into a tree?

Didn't think so!      (iris hog)


Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

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This Fury-Fiery Moment of Hot Sensual Love

This Fury-Fiery Moment of Hot Sensual Love

This fury-fiery moment of hot sensual love nourishes us now,
As we move from a caress to razor-close, then to lover-close,
Intertwined as one in a true tempestuous storm sparkling afire!

We share such a white-hot passion with a boundless fiery desire,
Blending us deeply in a fury-fiery emotion of love’s true inspire;
Bringing us to this apex with lust as love and love in lust’s hour!

This magic moment melds our passion into a true alchemy of love.
This prized-perfect passion purrs us now into satiated contentment,
As our hearts bask-bright in a fury-fiery moment of sensual desire! 

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved – May 19, 2016
(Rhyme)


Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2016

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Don't Even Ask: Collaboration With Daniel Turner

Have you ever had one of those days 
On the wrong side of the bed, bad days 
When everything right went wrong 

Cause the ding had lost it's dong 
Ouch, Mr. Sun came peeking in 
Up from bed and banged your shin 
Leaky, full toilet overflowed 
Damn, you stubbed your other big toe 

Times like this: don't you love those days 
Hardly anything seems to go your way? 
Is little Johnnie turning green 
Splat! Is that doggie ice cream? 

Gas oven took a dump 
Everyone’s oatmeal was in clumps 
The kids were late AGAIN for school 

Wasn’t that traffic cop a tool? 
Oh, you should've just stayed in bed! 
Rolled back over and called in dead… 
Shoot! An hour late for work 
Emptied Starbucks on your shirt 

Dare you ask how this could get worse? 
Others think you're such a jerk. 
Next, the boss comes barging in 
Tells you,"Look for work again" 

Everything was going wrong 
Vacation's gonna be a little long 
Even your wife’s rope is at an end 
Now she says, "Let's just be friends" 

An asteroid fell from the skies 
Smashed the beer between the thighs 
Kick yourself for getting out of bed

3/24/16
Collaboration with Daniel Turner


Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016

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Inertia

Inertia makes a monster of my
Self
I'm insatiable for making a 
Progress.
Move, don't just tell yourself
You will.
Set the rules, then transgress.
The rebel inside of you deserves
Respect.

You're what you eat, don't
Lick
Your wounds, turn up the heat
By a caress. Love the self-contained
Monster you possess.
Let it off its leash and you'll feel
How it surges in your breast.

It's no place for old men
There is no case without offence
Commitment without intense
Embrace
Is a senile pretence.
To feign 
Amusement  shows lack of respect
For your own self.
Be a rebel, even an iron fist in a velvet
Glove is more wanted
Than just a silly old brat.

Awareness of the 
Inertia makes a monster of my Self
If it didn't I would be suffocating
In a senile caress of my soul's 
Protest.
Life transmutes the mind into
A  monster  who fights against mind's
Recess.


Copyright © Tamara Simic | Year Posted 2016

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Essential Spirits

She was like Bordeaux,
a tall drink of spirit
He was more a hopped
pale lager like Pilsner, 
both gorgeous and
super gingered flavors,
although clashing mid
respective savored aplomb,
one so refined the other
rowdy after hours,
yet they complimented
each other in the way
they blended their
drunken demeanors, 
intoxicated by mere
existence of nature's
essential complexities


Copyright © Paloma P | Year Posted 2016

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Nothing More or Less

hid insecurities within
  ambiguous humor &
   convoluted whimsies,
rules consistently changing
 in a game which required
hardly more than breath,
  nothing less than obscurity
     twisting a fallible fancy, 
    seizing day's intangibility 


Copyright © Paloma P | Year Posted 2016

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Floridian Rat

Big armadillo
invading my privacy
you are a leper


Copyright © Ijm seven | Year Posted 2016

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Or Ultimately We All Fall

She was gooey like maple syrup

     & marshmallow s'mores,

stronger than  a mountain lion

    protecting her cubs,

wore prescription rose-tinted 

     sunglasses with GPS,

she'd been around long enough

   to see through most of the 

    negative flimflam and ambiquity, 

was agile enough to laugh at

      her own cheeky caricature,

wouldn't put up with the travesty

   'neath debauchery's cunning

still, she wondered as most do,

  what was to become of a world

so engrossed in the overthrow

    & disparaging mockery of others

she bade her time waiting to grow

    older and wiser in hopes

she'd be around long enough

      to experience a sunrise view 

            in universal accordance

      before her own last sunset

                  ultimately bites the dust,  

         burning in all-inclusive ashes


Copyright © Paloma P | Year Posted 2016

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Night of Mystery

The sun was rather hasty--
I might go so far as this;
Because of it, that starry night,
Concluded with a kiss.

And for its misplaced manners--
Its intrusion, if you will;
I have hung the darkest curtains
Just above the window sill.

But should the sun allow it--
One long night of mystery;
I'd pull the curtains down, and smile
For the possibility!


Copyright © Mel Merrill | Year Posted 2014

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Tee Shot

Address.
Stance, grip,
settle in, shake out,
place the club head,
sweet spot kissing
the doomed ball,
a ripe plum
against the steel.
Eternity.
Doubt about 
the Oppenheimer reallocation.
Eye on the ball, 
a visual feast,
view the flag,
take a picture of it
with the mind,
eye on the ball.
A breeze, a frown,
left foot forward
a millimeter,
club head opened 
four thousands of an inch,
the reckoning 
of terrible variables.
Imagine the Masters:
“Mr Scott Davis of Fort Wayne Indiana,
you are away.”
Address.
Perfection, shake out,
wiggling hips,
exhale, the paroxysm
of tension, mind and body
crystallized.
The flag appears
as a scrapbook photograph,
the drum roll crescendo
of concentration stops.
Silence.
The Oppenheimer reallocation
was a good move.
It's time.
The back swing,
a slow pendulum
of machine precision
rises to the twisted apex 
and hovers.
The sword of Damocles,
falls slowly to release.
Scott gives it his all.
Eye off the ball.
The Oppenheimer reallocation.
Ping!
Follow through.
Angst.
There it is!
The ball is shooting straight
down the fairway
as an artillery round,
climbing to trajectory,
rising, hanging, hanging
beyond gravity,
falling, falling, dropping.
Thud. 
Direct hit on the green,
rolling, rolling, stopping
ten feet from the pin. 
“Yes!”
Could be better but
birdie is possible –
very possible.
Scott lifts the heavy golf bag
and soldiers down the fairway. 
The sun could not
be brighter,
the sky more blue,
the grass more green,
the birds more musical.
Scott is hopeful
of birdie
on Par 3.




Copyright © Peter Kautsky | Year Posted 2014

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Of Lust and Dissipation

A Spenserian Sonnet
(Mr. Snake falls in love with a garden hose)

Today I slithered up a grassy hill,
wet from the creek and eager to explore.
The urge to snare a mate devoured my will,
could not this be the day for me to score?

I spot you there beside the garden door, 
your slick green shape pervades my hungry sight.
Your golden head criss-cross my eyes before
your trim tight coil peals visions of delight.

Yet when I push my moves into the light
your body squirms and grows before my eyes,
and dread arises in a burst of fright.
You spit at me in angry spurts, surprise

me with a gush of clear and liquid spray,
while I make haste to scuttle fast away.


Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

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Plastic Siblings

Genial to avoid confrontation
Baseborn kind, complaisant character
A spurious recital, a cheap imitation
Apocryphal mind, and comical creations
Counterfeited Christ
An unholy effusion
Sons of Belial
Clutch arcane knowledge
Esoteric information

Delve into oracular verse.
Deadened faith
Recondite belief denuded denials
Portentous and abstruse
Divested of the truth
Desolate road
Traveled day after day
Seriatim in miles
Strangled in hyperbole
Hypothetical noose

Cheaply loose
Tightening
methodically

Suicidal salvation
Covertly clandestine
Do what art wilt
Deliver the chosen
indoctrinate guilt
Derision to the destined
To learn love over hate
Adoration to inculcate
Imbue their sick lessons.


Copyright © Joel Thornton | Year Posted 2014

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Missing

Here goes...
she said
it loudly and
proudly:

Hello…
l`m a miss
and  l miss 
you inside out

Truly…
I miss you like
bees really miss
their honey

Wow…
water for my thirst
food for my hunger
scratch for my itch

Well…
want to take
to you like 
duck to water

Oh…
you draw me
to you like
moth to light 

Yes…
you are my cake
my cup of goodies
my hot ice-cream

Indeed…
at night my moon
daytime my sun
your love my light

Relax…
take a seat
I sold that heater
for your heat

Please…
you bathe in milk 
l bask in your presence
a sublime quench

Finally…
what she did not
say is that we`re close
strangers on the net!



Copyright © Ndaba Sibanda | Year Posted 2014

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Rejected

SONG LYRICS: Made to fit with a song.

My words are always uttered
But never seem to sound
No one will listen
When I walk around town

I don't meet expectations
Society tunes me out
My frequency isn't normal
Radios can't hear it sound

For now I often speak
To hear my thoughts out loud
Therapy will not reconcile
A reject's incurable frowns.


Copyright © Trenton Moore | Year Posted 2015

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Four-Eyed Charmer

I wear a white buttoned shirt
And my friends call me four eyes
But I don't care, just slowly walk away
And give 'em my gang sign

Don't bother with my appearance
Cause I'm the king of the chess team
Most guys got brawns, when it comes to logic
I can win before you take a seat

And I'm a four-eyed charmer
But a real straight A lover
What girl wouldn't wanna fall all over me
Hold my bag on the boat when I'm sick at sea
I'll give this life a mighty heave
Confidence you wouldn't believe
Whet girl wouldn't wanna fall all over me
Give me oxygen when I forget to breathe

Some gits got British accents
To impress any American gal
I speak elvish and clenon
They got their mansion royale

Some guys eat snails a la mode
And only settle for the finest wine
I can foresee myself in Paris
Throwing tomatoes at the mimes

A true heart you'll discover
Under this four-eyed charmer
What girl wouldn't wanna fall all over me
Hold my bag on the boat when I'm sick at sea
And I'm taking a leap of faith
That could either destroy or save
What girl wouldn't wanna fall all over me
Give me oxygen when I forget to breathe

Now I finally got someone
A lovely gal to cheer me on
When I play videogames
All night to the crack of dawn

Now I finally got someone
Who loves to rub when
I get a burning lobster tan
On my mayonnaise skin

Now I finally got someone
Who thinks my wandering eye
Is actually kinds cute
At least now I'm not so shy

I am the geek with four eyes
A noble prince in disguise
With a girl who courageously fell for me
As the titanic sinks I'll be your Lenny
And I bet it all on a whim
Now I'm the one with everything
With a girl who courageously fell for me
Her smile augmented when I stood on one knee



NOTE: So I feel ridiculously silly now, but I already posted this one a long time ago... must have slipped my mind... oh well :/


Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2014

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The Cantilevered Soul

The cantilevered soul
	looks up--
Wonders at the mood,
Strikes out alone.
	Reduces
All to stone.

He revels in sight;
He sees beyond.
To see or be seen is
	his motto.

Truly he will fall
From that old wall
	and break
	not gently.


Copyright © Bill Yates | Year Posted 2015