A Memory
A crimson tulip, soft and bright,
Unfurls to greet the morning light,
A fragrant kiss from the soft breeze,
But dawn's sweet beauty can't be seized
For soon its petals gently fall,
A memory pitched on the wall.
SAILING TO GLORY
You can't rock my boat;
God’s my captain and rutter:
I am smooth sailing:-
BIRTHING ANEW
Pregnant mind birthing;
Awareness words being born—
Loudly echoing:-
Let your eyes’ ears hear,
As your heart beats excitement—
Awareness streaming:-
Newborn awareness,
Ensures changes are coming;
And sameness going:-
longest time to leave behind this database
is the seconds between click-bait
rivers down the hillside
pour into the dam
dinner etiquette
forks in uni(s)on
they follow behind
haunting bathroom glass
Only within nakedness
we can find
pure light.
The bubble is bound to burst
before long; therefore at least
A gondola you should opt for
For letting loose your emotions
Loaded with almost all oceans
Curved currents and foams
Potential fear amidst delight
and excitement; your sights
blurred by beauty that roams
along the edges of the figure
Flooding your whole existence
Mopping off all distance
Of time and space in braincase
Only the embrace, you write
and replace, the lips and face
In cloud base and fireplace
In cold case and in a horse race
Mewing wooing cooing
Howling, growling, prowling.
Doing, undoing and redoing
Life is never a straight line
Bland canned and flatland
It's waist band and dreamland
Fascinating woodland
Crescent and fluorescent
Incessantly effervescent
So no monochrome of woe
No saying always not and no
Instead, the bugle of gusto
In the meadow with a rainbow
Always the wonderful gun
In your lovely hair-bun
___________________
18 September 2025
Spring becomes tender
Poetically laughs and cries
with the first fruits of arrival
with the finality of departure...
Your body, with pleasure
like a flower opens into petals
when I skillfully touch you...
This simple life of ours,
in grandeur, does indeed blossom,
when we weave ourselves in nobility...
To truly love is:
to provide attentive ears,
to offer obliging arms...!
Life always becomes art,
canvas, palette, action...
in the mystery of creation!
Wine can be:
oily, full-bodied, fruity...
sine qua non; good grape, good wine!
We burn bright, burn brief
Sun is not long when come the stars
Blue yellow green turn grey
With just the briefest patch of red to mark their passing
We are fireworks, never really matching words to action
But close by the blaze it's hard to tell.
We yearn to join our sparks together,
To rise, mortal momentary ember
To combine, combust in one
To make our small obeisance to the sun.
A rope of rumor, a knot of hate.
tightens around a name.
It pulls and loops through mouths
like a saffron thread snagging on a needle's eye.
The rope yanks him from his doorstep
to the street's cold dock
and wraps around his right to exist.
The rope reeks of pasture,
of green fields that once held peace.
Then it tightens with glances
circling the cloth on his head.
The rope is coiled again
For the next name.
step …
across the sill
this haunted house
walls of torn paper, dripping
crumbling plaster ceilings
hanging like rotten vines on a gaunt
and bony frame
dark, broken windows, the
empty eyes that stare -
once aglow with
the bright from within
life and light … and love
made a home
until …
just an ember -
one flame of your kiss -
and it was gutted
burned raw and ruined
with no thought to what filled these rooms
or graced the facades
or warmed the meager marrow …
now all phantoms
howling in the barren halls
sodden and saddened
for sake of the abandoned -
the threadbare -
dilapidated … desolate
welcome to the
vacancy …
your fool.
Copyright © 2023 Gregory Richard Barden
( artwork is a number two pencil sketch of the cottage from “Summer of ‘42” by the poet )
Ending Overtime And Moving On
Desperately
trying
to
throw
us
off
guard
yelled
out
to
us
that
the
ball
was
in
court:-
Let’s
ever
be
mindful
that
here
on
the
battlefloor
of
the
lord
foot
stomping
this
shadowed
valley
we
need
to
fastbreak
and
slamdunk
liberty
as
we
rebound
and
bench
Its
oppressors
as
we
end
overtime
and
move
on
to
justice:-
May my words cut deeply into thy soul as a sharpened sword
Loosening the impediments of fear and hate causing your discord
May they like the shinning surgical blade make their incisions
Removing all delusion and indecision
Yet, also let them be as precise as a master surgeons work
Clearing even those hidden elements as they lie in lurk
Waiting to surprise and cause great demise
With full effect causing great pain and loud cries
But let my closing bring healing and peace
As the comforting sigh you now release
Let my words, now new seeds be
For you to use eternally
Let them nurture and encourage your life
Helping to endure and overcome strife
Knowing my love will always endure
And always be there for you, for sure
Words may be sharp, but be used to be kind
It’s just a matter of which ones you find
Every word I say traveling to thee
Is meant to bring love and comfort from me
Well said.
I can’t hold a conversation that is not in metaphor.
I can see through your lies as I show you my all.
It’s not a pretty sight seeing as you do.
It’s a mixed up Zen in a world of broken fools.
It’s a beautiful time to destroy everything.
I fall at your feet to ask you for nothing.
(C)2025 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
gone was the meek/downtrodden servant/girl
a woman stood in her place: cunning/ruthless
elegance concealed breasts more savage than any princess
ancillary fairy godmother's guidance
Cinderella manipulated/eliminated any rivals
path through fabled tales covered in viscera
meandering jars with lifeblood
she felt a surge:
pride/power/dangerous
each drop represented victory
no longer a mere dam(e)
steadfastly
eyes were bedroom shut conversation
earth had inhaled tenebrism
bending itself to her will
undead battalion advanced
gait erratically photo shopped
yet, propelled forward
unwavering fealty to their mistress of the manor
RAISED AND SQUARED WITH GOD
Lying parallel,
Pleased and thankful for today:-
Perpendicular:
Squaring my service to God,
With love labors to others:-
Specific Types of Metaphor Poems
Read wonderful metaphor poetry on the following sub-topics:
animal, family, friends, football, kids, lion, love, loneliness, moon, nature, yourself
and more.
Definition | What is Metaphor in Poetry?
Poems Related to Metaphor
symbol, image, analogy, similitude, emblem, personification, allegory, hope, metonymy, trope,