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Best Metaphor Poems

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Details | Metaphor Poem | |

Indian Ink

“Indian Accent”

Hear the whispers inside

Chanting from long ago
Echoes come and go
Losing time in a soft eternal glow

A beautiful and delicate autumn mountain scene
Dry blue eyes enchanting melodies!
Voices falling from the sky
Rising hymns release ancient demons that cling to the soul

The darkness dwells under gentle moonlight
Ancestors of the Spirit World,
Exposing Indian hands that weave native smoke into the air
Their spirits taunting burrows from the muddy Earth
Moccasin makers rise from underneath
Guardians of dream catchers
Smooth thread from the outer edge, bowing heads.
Luminous gems of ivory,
Chasing a florid kiss.

Through the winds of enchanted drums, voices cry out for rain.
The hollow chimes mesmerize  
An ancient rage begins to flare
Stale madness, 
The spears of the perfumed buffalo skin pierced my senses
Removing the veils that cover my eyes
The hands that cover my ears
Washing the scalp that bleeds on my face
They collect tears from memories of the past.

KINDRED IN EVERY WAY!

Raven silk braids, feathers fall from my hair.
Dancing in a horrid hallucination of Peyote,
Waking up from the “American Dream.”
Holding out my arms, I am free, I can fly.

I AM A BIRD!

By; PD

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

Devils Deadly Dime

Devils deadly dime

The sign said no grown-up at the playground.
Tripping on a penny, like a mime!
My hand is in my pocket with the dime I found.
Its all mine, I asked for the devils hand that time.
Echoes in my head, bounded by a screaming sound.
Paying for a forgotten crime,
on what comes around goes around.

A prison with greed that carries an evil musical chime.
Jumping off the merry-go-round!
Encouraged by the devil,
 the pleasure of his deadly nursery rhyme. 
Now the world is measured by my blood level.

The devils delight feasted on my youth before I hit my prime.
Bashing my mind, with thoughts implanted by evil.
Entering the day with no beauty to my sublime.
Begging him to remove this anvil!

He laughed while he cursed me with a favor for a favor.
A fallout so violently in this world not civil.
One can only lust on the taste that only he can savor.
Hanging out  by the swings wounding me with prey,
on two victims to his delicious flavor.
I climb my way to teach a lesson in hate not love.
Two siblings who always scream for each other.
Giggling as I offered each a push and a shove.
Stopping they give each other a big hug.
Defeating and proving love is a stronger disease
The devil wicked eyes looking  at me like a bug.
Clawing at my inner guts with remorse that he will win this war.
Until another day one skips the penny, 
and begs a poor fool like the devil for his dime.
Tossing heads for his tail when times hits rock bottom.
I will stray away from his deadly reaction time.
He will not own my soul so freak'em,
and his greedy deadly beg of a dime.


by;pd

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

Poet -This Poem is About You

-Dear, Mr & Mrs Poet- 

Do you ever question where it comes from?
This poem's about you, sit down and get a load off 
Tranquilize your pen, take heed to the ecstatic applause 

The things in life we take for granting, in time get worse 
From WHICH' our lives transverse, ascends a deep poetic curse 
You write almost everything, rehearsing every living verse 
Embezzling words, like Martha Stewart, ---NOT YOURS!
Withdrawing from your substance, 
--yielding it to others, who aren't devoted lovers 
Spacing your lines, ready for reader's digest, 
Educating the mind, like Albert Einstein

You paint a different horizon for the color blind,
Drop a note, forecasting the news, that brings, Spring to mind
Your adrenaline, leaves people with a feel good faint.
At this level, Poet you're better than high speed Internet,
Anything that makes you feel this is the real deal, 
Today, you write like there's no tomorrow, borrowing yesterday's clay
Inspiring ink, left to right, feeding the need to breed a poetic degree 
Your dramatic dialogue, deserve 'The Peoples Choice award."

I love the sweet audio, when you lowercase every word
It's done so well, hell, let's never capitalize another word
Reaching a point across, when capitalizing every letter, 
This is your world, take it, manipulate it, with the perfect stanza
Produce it like a poetic film, imagery, action, CUT it like Jerry Bruckheimer 
One day Hollywood will incite a roll, looking for the best poetry soup rhymer

Your tears and affection, you pour on partial paper,
Showing every word you want to enunciate
A SHOULDER-- gone cold, drowning, forgetting the normal way
Writing about the pure religion that meets your light, 
A beautiful flower under the moonlight
Hear the bells, Poe wrote about, adding sprinkles to the twinkle in your eyes, 
A redolent scent not meant to be forgotten, from Eden's garden
Taking nature, by course, granting her a crown, before slamming us down
I will call her out --The evil and the fury of a goddess, a beast
This is my feast, I welcome you to my jungle, and the outer bounds of time.

If you ever question where it comes from?
Sit down and get a load off, listen---Where's the ecstatic applause?
I'm not afraid to say, -----I'm Proud to be A Poet Without A Cause

by;PD
I do it for fun

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

Northern Slaves

In the silent breathing of night,
treading through 
the darkness and the hush
(A heavy band of slave)
like black ants snaking
through the forlorn distance.
Grieving with tears
Of yesterdays burning anguish. 
They hum a languid song
On the fragrant breath of wind.
A haunt that invades my trembling eyes 
With a thousand boundless tears
That quivers through the night.

The dreaded echoes came down the black pathway
Like a thousand men 
Galloping through the sultry breeze
(Were the heartless whips that toiled)
With dumb hands,
Feeding paled pink flesh 
With endless stings of cruel misery.

The stars curled around their naked feet
As they trampled the grass 
Wet with lurid dew and the masked
Beds of fragrant hues
Prancing in the hallowed night.
I could feel the storming of their sorrows,
The rock of their heart
Drooping with defeat.
Despair a master to their fading hope
That sailed across their faces.
Oh those foul notes budding with despair
Branched within their eyes.

The lulling whispers of their shackles
United with their treading feet like hooves
Cloaked with heavy weariness
(It surrounded the dead of night)

I hung up my fears
For I was bright with their pain
Oh I died that day 
Oh I died that day
While drifting to the helpless East
To that damp cold earth filled
With drowsy mournful Asters
Then the smell of dead men came alive
Black dogs clustered to the earth
Their children beside them with gripping hands!














 

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

Yellow Shoes in the Darkness

Walking through the land of shadows 
wearing my yellow shoes
With each and every step
I created color and hues

The shadows started retreating
As color permeated the ground
Out of the darkness
I heard a horrible sound

"You do not belong here
I command you to go away
You are in the land of darkness
You must listen to what I say"

I kept on moving forward
Not sure what I would see
Where was the voice coming from
I looked behind a tree

Light and color expanded
Traveling up to the skies
The entity that scared me
Was right before my eyes

As my shoes banished the darkness
The entity was reduced to tears
Without the aid of shadows
He couldn't tap into my fears

I reached down to touch him
I told him he was safe
He looked up with confusion
As I gazed upon his face

"Are you here to destroy me?
Have you come to take me away?
There is a purpose for shadows
They create hope for brighter days."

I heard what he was saying
The shadows have their reason
In order for spring to come
We need a darker season

So I removed my yellow shoes
Watched as the shadows returned
It was time for me to go home
With this strange lesson I had learned









Details | Metaphor Poem | |

The King of Sanctimonious

The King of Sanctimonious
Perched high upon his throne-ious
Clothed in purple pious-ness
Admired his own self-righteous-ness

The Queen of Sanctimonious
Tired of the King's baloney-ous
When he counts his hoards of money
To him, sweeter than his honey

In a court that wasn't courteous
The Queen cried, "you're oblivious!"
But he wasn't aware, nor did he care
He'd become a Royal hypocrite

Day after day, he counted each coin
The ritual put a flutter in his groin
Reveling in his Royal room
Soon became his tomb of gloom

The Royal epitaph was no baloney-ous
When the king was found
 'Tis said he drowned
In a fermented bottle of loneliness



Details | Metaphor Poem | |

The Philosopher

*Based on Plato's Allegory of the Cave

Numb fists with bloody wrists 
chained to crumbling walls.
Glazed eyes that never spy 
a single truth or fault.
Dim light impairing sight 
in spaces dark and shallow.
Stone walls where lies are scrawled 
by murky phantom shadows.

One breaks free on frail knees
stiffened by disuse,
to leave behind the dumb and blind 
who welcome this abuse.
He climbs in pain against the grain 
toward a distant light.
With bloodied hands, he finally stands, 
exhausting all his might.

Dazed at first, he's cursed by thirst
beneath the blazing sky.
The sun is bright and plunders sight
from eyes too dry to cry. 
Lesions crust as eyes adjust
to find a foreign land
with greenest grass and sea like glass
caressing strips of sand.

He stands amazed before this maze
of truths he's never seen
and vows to save those in the cave
whose ignorance demeans.
When he returns, his words are spurned
by those chained to the wall.
They have no will to brave that hill
or risk the chance to fall.

He cannot go back to this show
of living shadowed lies.
Now that he knows the truth below,
he needs the open skies.
And so he climbs to search, to find 
the knowledge that he craves.
No more a slave to the dark cave.
He's left that mindless grave.

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

CREATIVE INSPIRATION

CREATIVE INSPIRATION Inspiration where do you go when you leave and your dry, barren riverbed causes blinding dust storms in my mind? Do you evaporate into mist, become a gray dense fog lying heavily in the air, intangible… floating like a cloud, ever changing shapes? Are you carried by the wind, held hostage to feed another storm when lightening strikes and your deluge once again swells the river to overflowing, racing free and wild, reaching out beyond all boundaries? If so, storm of inspiration please deliver unto me your monster category five hurricane © Sandra M. Haight 2014 All Rights Reserved ~First Place~ Contest: “I Do Not Know” Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

Looks Can Be Deceiving

There was a young girl whose silk skin
Was sewn up with some thread and a pin.
     It would drive the men mad,
     That sleek layer she had,
Well, until she took off her silk skin.

By Anne Currin

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

Sun Dance

~Sun Dancing~         

Bright yellow sparks glisten around the landscape
Sheer environment expose  
Warmth slinks down every step        
So--  Invigorating 
Spur like rays muster in long light
The wolves wait to howl
Soon--Bunch of flowers 
Huddle in with sunlit love
Luminous rave  

By; pd


(For contest) 

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

Gentle Summer Rain Art

Featuring:)  Giorgio Veneto

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

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

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

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

Enjoy the FRAGRANCE OF RAIN

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

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

Inscriptions

Light breezes moan through dawn's cracked window
I, wrapped in ivory silk, you as always, linger in place
Anticipating our morning ritual, sleepy desires move
Pleasured senses guide our thoughts in sync

Rhythmic expressions, elated vibrations
Fidgeting fingers lightly caress
At last the font gushes, between unfolded pages
Wherein chapters of new life begin






( A writer's affair with the pen)

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

A whiter shade of blue

the magnificent autumn-sun bursts at its seams
the icy october-wind blows her soft-cold breeze
one of the most impressive and mesmerizing teams
stumbling over each other making me warm and freeze

fragrances of fresh grass mowed for the last time this year
the muted-green foliage whispers with leaves drying out
the hidden dark-red blackberries wither behind protective thorns of fear 
the last flight of geese flying over another scout

rare but visible some glorious leaves of gold
the cloudless sky colors the very rare whiter shade of blue
the bike trail I'am on  partly covered with wet leaf mold
the passing summer is now really saying adieu

while the wintery wind and summer-sun bicker for attention
I'm overwhelmed by this whiter shade of blue's  fourth dimension

©Elly Wouterse

Dutch composer&harp player Anne Vanschothorst wrote a piece for harp and recorded her version of "A whiter shade of blue" 

The link to hear HER "A whiter shade of blue" under "About this poem". 

Procol harum's "Whiter shade of pale"(I am that old- or young?) is on of the songs on my list of most played songs on my mp3-player.. when hearing this song on a sunny autumnal day I was inspired to add my color to the palet..........  I saw a new'kind of blue  and wrote  this poem.. 

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

Let Me Go

You have caged me for too long
I want you to just let me go,
I have to spread these feathered wings
I need to feel the wind's blow.

You know that I love you truly
I said that I would never leave,
I want to see the rain's dance
Not just sit here and perceive.

The scene never changes, day after day
I want to go where white roses bloom,
I have never seen an ocean's wave
And neither have you, I assume.

I need to see the autumn tree's change
I want to see the snowflake's glisten,
I am wishing on the stars as they fall
This is my dream, so please just listen.

I want to fly in the sky's blue
I need to feel the sun's burn,
When I have experienced these wonders
I promise that I will return.




Details | Metaphor Poem | |

Spider songs

Blades of grass, wet under foot, insect eyes  
Dusk, offset by the cricket orchestra 
Muted and receding into the trees and bushes,
Tickled by the wind, rattling snake tail wind 
While we may be in the company of wolves,
A long legged friend is late for the party 

Eyes, little iridescent stars 
Attending to each one, and look there, 
There she is, making the most beautiful geometry 
Parallels within the octagons, pulling silks
An arm for every task, little perpetual motion machine

Is that the Queen of the Night under the rusted iron? 
A forlorn lady, black patent leather, kill a man, maybe two 
With her danger red symmetry, oozing with youth 
And a penchant for paralysis, no one can resist her wine

Then there's the hall of cob webs, threadbare handkerchiefs
Left by ladies who exhausted all of their company 
To be a spectacle under the moon, in the wood pile 
Dressed up in the finest furs, all earth tones 
Stepping out to introduce themselves in girlish droves 

Venus of another sort, these little cursed jezebels 
Hovering on the skin of the water, or on the red brick wall 
Must frequent every happy corner, and slip away at a moment's notice
A real lady always knows when to say goodnight
Such graceful exits through cement cracks
Back to the parlor, to glow in the dark 
And they become spiders again 




Details | Metaphor Poem | |

Fool of Infinite and Queen of Fate

Fool of Infiniti

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


The Queen of Fate

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

I am With You Always

I am with you always...
You think I'm far away
I'm closer than you think
I'm just a whisper away...

The breeze is my breath on your cheek
The rain is my passion that wets you
The sun is my warmth on your body
The scent of flowers, my perfume
I surround you
I touch you
I fill you

The starlight is the shine of my eyes
The moon, the fullness of my face
The sounds of nature, my voice
The stream my hands that caress

I am with you always
I'm just a thought away
A line or two of a poem
A dream for your night or day


I'm with you always...

Always
             Always
                           Always…..

                                   I am with you always....
                                                                       My love....

Eileen Manassian




Details | Metaphor Poem | |

Well I declare


Well I declare

On artful prints her beauty dwelt,
diffused in haze, a pristine bloom,
ethereal her figure svelte
and French perfume.

Well I declare, her love I sought;
unplaced on canvas her response
hence diffident her stare and thought,
of renaissance.

Alike a dancing muse she stepped
her graciousness, a veil of night,
caressing wave, the shoreline swept
her smiling bright.

Upon the sands she coasted then,
of Springtime incandescent beam
an everlasting red cayenne
and fervent dream.

A classic arts connoisseur
well I declare, my reddened rose,
I yippee yipped with spree and spur
and kissed her nose. :)

© 2014-09-06, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic tetrameter - Iambic dimeter)

Sponsor: gautami phookan
Contest Name: The Sweetest Touches of Verse 


Details | Metaphor Poem | |

The Gem

THE GEM As precious stones are hidden and entwined In minerals of ordinary worth, They must be found, professionally mined From common, rocky layers of the earth. Extracted, polished, cut, they'll stand apart As valued gems. Neglected, they will share In earth's destructive force—erosion's art— Dissolve away with nature's wear and tear. Oh God, you are both mine and miner; strip This soul embedded in your work of clay, And let your tools of grace and fellowship Preserve the gem of Love from life's decay. Cut many facets that reflect and show— The worth of gem and miner in its glow. © Sandra M. Haight 2014 All Rights Reserved ~3rd Place~ Contest: Precious Stones and Gems Sponsor: Anthony Slausen Judged 11/22/2014

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

LOST IN THE MIST

LOST  IN  THE   MIST 
   

Grey fingers soft as a pickpocket’s,      
Soundless and sightless, have taken the sun -      
Poacher in the kingdom of the blind. 
Guests and ghosts of the realm steal in and out,    
Cozened into thinking that 
Feet pressed to the ground -
Ensure the lost land will be restored,
The theft of the sun will be recouped.


.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

Written   21st  August  2014    by Sydney Peck
For contest  THROUGH  THE MIST

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

STAMINA

           STAMINA

No where near a force of nature.
Challenging the things that are not for sure.

Building what we can  survive.
A small measurement when we strive.

Lessons when it comes to strength.
Multiplying the time found in length.

Stop and learn the sound of weakness.
Hard to find when one is restless.

Improving in a mental task.
The answers are found when we ask.

Stamina is needed between me and you.
To perform bravely in all we do.

Losing the ability to rump for long.
You're out of shape comes in way too wrong.

The idea is to learn when ideas seem to fail.
The wrong action is to bail.

Thinking, thinking what could it be.
Will not solve the problem between you and me.

Practice is  the best energy.
Memorize it and stamina will come naturally.

 
                    SKAT
                   6-29-10

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

You Reap What You Sow

If you sow seeds of kindness,
Then kindness is what you'll reap.
If you sow seeds of forgiveness,
You'll reap untroubled sleep.

If you sow seeds of anger,
of hatred or discontent,
You'll reap a crop of violence,
Discord and evil intent.

If you sow seeds of brotherly love,
Then love you will receive,
But if wickedness is what you sow,
Then wicked you will be.

The lesson here is pretty clear:
You reap just what you sow.
Therefore, strive to sow only good seeds,
And spread them wherever you go.

2/13/13
Kim Merryman
For SandyIvy's Seed contest

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

of love of war

of love of war
the staff of a prophet, seen fairness not imagine, sings shouting out, obscenity recognized, yet in search of fame, seeking stance the moment arises, seek of voice of power, godsend renown supremacy, yet prophet not acknowledged, kept desire of a great life, sought skill of voice, articulate hardly ever, cheek no longer free, famous self seldom bite snarls dogma, link of country of faith, kinship all that’s true, fair play desired fame acknowledged, pent the home front, covetousness war or peace love or hate, just yelp puppy love, nice _________________________| Penned on September 28, 2014!

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

The Elephant in the Room

3 polished oak fans,
Swirling in robotic unison

High maintenance socialites,
Sipping on Merlot fallacies

Lemon yellow coated walls,
Flat,
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…!”
(SMASH!)

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

Details | Metaphor Poem | |

The Mirror is a Liar

Time to banish that old broken mirror
It only shows sadness it gives you tears
Its faulty reflection can paralyze 
Don't listen to its voice tell you sad lies

Find a new mirror take a really close look
You are in control take back what it took
You may be surprised by all that you see
Embrace this knowledge and see true beauty

Mirrors of distortion tell you you're less
Look beyond the makeup hair or that dress
I hope your conclusion is now not the same
Not seeing yourself would be such a shame

Embrace yourself you are one of a kind
Incomparable beauty, truly sublime
See your reflection it's where to begin
Once witnessed you can let love in

The mirror is one dimensional 
Yet some are locked inside the glass
Listening to a lifeless image
That doesn't breathe or let them pass




Inspired by  "Mirror Lie to Me" Written by Eileen Ghali.
Dedicated to all women in hopes that they learn to see how
beautiful they really are.