Analogies Poems | Examples

Demonstrative dedication

Easy to entrance the sycophants watch their helpless dance their back and forth swaying and swooning, in cunnilingual somniloquence.
Droning and drooling with flattering and fawning, turgently swelling, spouting placating pleasantries, a mess of gushing adulation.
Self exultation, craving congratulation by consensus for another conventional  sensation, clamouring for congratulation in lurid inflated infatuation.
Curtailing castigation, striving in strides as pedestrian asperation gives rise to typical inspiration, stillted it saunters soulessly, provoking predicable platitudes.
Dreary dedication denoting the humdrum and the ho-hum, tirelessly tiring, offering effortlessly banal bestowments bequeathing a tepid tranquillising testimonial.
Uniform, unchanged, unilateral applause, amplifying abysmal analogies, articulating dearth depictions of derivative denotations.
Cryptic quips collapse carelessly caused by cumbersome correlating contradictions, deviating detrimentally forth fatuous flutterings.
Stale sentiment, sterile superfluous suppositions, garishly guilded in grandure,
Repetitious rudimentary ruminations, repackaged and retold.

Pondering Parables

Among tales told long ago were those
of finding hidden buried treasures,
of growing seeds in diverse soils,
of building homes on sand or rock,
of sorting worthy sheep from wicked goats,
of inviting multitudes to a banquet,
of celebrating a prodigal returning home,
of saving a life by a scorned Samaritan.

Jesus loved earthly stories
with heavenly implications.
His parables were spiritual seeds
sown in hearers’ hearts and minds,
analogies thrown alongside
puzzling narrative plots,
poignant truths with shocking twists
and unexpected outcomes.

Deceptively simple, sly stories
with multiple potential meanings,
his parables perplexed expectations,
and upended usual understandings.
Even his bewildered disciples
pleaded for private interpretations.

During careful contemplation,
parables interrogate our lives.
Providing few easy answers,
parables compel us to ponder.


(First published in Earth & Altar, 14 Nov. 2024. See also my poems “God Around the Corner” and “Consider the Dreaming Birds.”)

Ambition - in Kamalas own words

What if I can see it, smell it, almost touch it,
That gilded throne where I will proudly sit,
Would people think me mad,
Is my ambition so preposterous and bad.

And why not me, have I not earned this crown,
Someone not worthy of that queenly gown,
Bejeweled and composed for all to see,
My vassals all around, bowing deep to me.

Naysayers bleat I'm just an empty ship,
With lights and streamers pretending to be hip,
Without a cargo or destination clear,
Sailing in circles relying on the wind to steer.

But if we're given to analogies, what if I were a Trojan horse,
With clear intent and undisputed course,
Where guile and purpose rule the day,
The aim to soundly win not merely one to play.

Demean and underrate me at your peril,
I can pivot between angel and pure devil,
While my laugh is designed to be disarming,
It masks a side of me considerably less charming.

Everything I've wanted I've achieved,
A trajectory few would have believed,
Do you think I'll stop at this last jump,
And in so doing fully flatten Trump?

A Good Day To Die

("Morphogenesis Merit Badge" - MB #37, 2011, original oil)

A Good Day to Die
(for Bill – 07/10/1925-10/14/2023)

Another day dawns
To the recognition
It is both the beginning of
The rest of your life
And as good a day as any
To die.

Before the sun sets today
You, me, us could all 
Beat it to it.

And when we set
Where do we go?
Such questions lead to
Unknowable answers.

It’s easy to apply for solace
The analogy of a planet spinning
In orbit around its central star
In the sense of cycles cycling
Into eternity…

But we all know such crude analogies
Miss the mark of reality.
Even the grandest universe
Has an expiration date.

And so it goes,
Each day 
A new beginning
Each day
A good day to die
Each day
Just another day to go
Into the mystery.

But no matter what
Whether sooner or later
There is still the chance
To seize the day
Stand tall
Even if 
All you can do 
Is lay down
And bring a little joy
To this world
And those around


(10/14/23

Rampant Lethargy

R is for the repeated distortions of facts,
A for press articles written with hacks,
M for the emphasis placed on survival,
P for the piss taken out of your rival.
A for analogies that never convince,
N for false narratives making us wince,
T for traditional values cast-off
   That cause umpteen scholars and clergy to scoff.

L is for lovers whom I dream of all night,
E for electric bills high as a kite,
T for temptations I can’t keep at bay,
H for Matt Hancock - please God stay away!
A is for the **** he fondled intensely,
R for resigning - we respect that immensely,
G is for the government of which he was part, and
Y for the yes-men aboard that rotting cart.

Animal Analogies 2 Monoku202201210001

Animals cope with weather, by not discussing it (Deo, shalom shalom)

Animal Analogies

I
Fish, birds ... Overcome myriad poisons from us, but don't think about it.

II
Animals think when needed; addicted humans recycle BLAME and PAIN.

Mythic Muse Mindfulness

I know the difference
between cooperatively intended sympathy
and solidarity of empathy
more easily articulated
by identifying sympathy's antithesis
as dissociation.

Sympathetic feelings
may be captured by:

Twinkle twinkle 
little star
how I wonder what you are
from afar

As co-empathic compassion by:

Twinkle twinkle
big bright star
now I see just who we are,
new enlightening depths
mutually ajar.

Like the difference
between ***********
and regenerative
sexual ecology,

Asking for a thesaurus 
for synonym wealthy choices
does not help
if my standard of healthy success
hopes to spin and weave
a co-arising dipolar chorus

Lyricizing analogies between theoretical God 
and experiential Love
inviting our polyphonic 
evolving metaphoric
spirit sympathetic
for EarthTribe's polypathic 
healing reeling 
revolving metamorphic
wealthy rocking
nature co-empathetic

Enough to know the difference
between cooperatively intended sympathy
and solidarity of empathy
more fluidly articulate
separating sympathy's antithesis
as silent
and neglected disassociations.

Birds and Bees

The facts of making babies teacher struggled to explain
The birds and bees confused them so she started once again
Analogies and metaphors the order of the day
And when the home bell rang she gladly sent them on their way

Little Lucy left the school and stood outside the gate
Her phone rang and her dad said I’m afraid I’m running late
I left the office early but the car broke down again
But I won’t be too long for I’m already on the train

She told him that today she’s learned how babies all got made
But then her dad spoke quickly as his voice began to fade
My train is going in a tunnel so we’ll lose our signal, maybe
And Lucy said does Mummy know you’re bringing home a baby

The Proof's In the Pudding of the Last Two Lines

Trump's another Hitler
            Mike Pence, a racist
          America's a slave plantation
            Accusations, the basest

          Shootings and murders are rising
            So let's defund the police
          Since jails breed hardened criminals
            Let's call for instant release

          Big corporations are all evil
            Their wealth, confiscate
          'Redistribute it fairly' --
            Will Congress take the bait?

          False analogies make us wince
            Illogical demands do too
          Woke-sters run the government
            And they're coming after you

An Author Note

At last, all my poetic duties done, now I can bask in the Sun
Oh, how a melodious and special event when completed with fun
To achieve all my artistic dreams, a work very well done
A life-time later, I can reflect on what I had begun

These of rhymes, metaphors, imagery, analogies and pretty wording
The weights of their meaningful meaning are closer to a metric ton
They will go in time and history and be etched in granite mind tablets
For all future scribes, poets, writers and inspiring students

It starts with one little word of a note, a giving gift
"The spark of inspiration and the movement of fingers with pen"

Recycling: Why's- Wise

we are creatures of...
a time lapse

that digest only in fractions...
about 1/14rh of each second

while 13/14ths escape us...
with respect cause and effects

we love the curiosity of cats but...
lay claim to some inner self image

echoes of creations mythological analogies...
from surviving untold 'centuries of millennias'

of change at least as intelligently as cats because...
human kind survives by asking the right questions

which means we as rational beings have a power to see what is...
within/without by way of practical and abstracted logics

so the 13/14ths of the pi that disappeared right in/of the light of day...
off the eye's 'window sill' without our knowing anything

more about it than rational is our choice over confusion and...
we - who what when where and why - wise dream too much

i mean - buttoned down screwed up reality images of ego...
greed power possession and re-vengance as war to serve...

scam artists profiting off the 'who when where and why' that bows...
some to a what that's supposed to be a good reason for their deaths


stan sand

Ode To Inspiration

Oh sapience of musings, oh savior of poetic art!
How longingly I seek you out to inspire my ballad
When lassitude of the night envelopes my mind
And grimace of dawn darkens shrouded in fog.

Oh lyrics of melodies, oh harmonies of music!
How eloquently you speak in articulate dreams
When wordless melancholy poignantly echoes
And voice of emptiness confiscates my themes.

Oh redeemer of words, oh language of feelings!
How musically you evoke rhythms of symphony
When broken phrases languish in depleted ink
And haze of confusion subjugates my euphony.

Oh oratory of wisdom, oh intellect of vocabulary!
How metaphorically you divulge motifs of imagery
When ineptitude of simile diminish comparability
And wordplay disappoints in misplaced analogies.

Oh allure of meaning, oh enticement of literacy!
How singularly you elevate cadence of my poetry
When decaying thoughts linger forever miserably
And creativity encounters nothingness of drudgery.

October 5, 2020
Placed 1st: When there is no inspiration poetry contest
Sponsor: Silent One

Fear Not These Testing Times

Be sure to wash your hands…
the new pleading command
from fearing fearers…living
in these testing times of life…

However, in this season
of pandemonium,
we’re reminded that we
should be about washing
each others’ feet
as was non-virtually taught
and demonstrated
by the Master Teacher…

Today, those feet are
our hearts, minds and souls,
with their Peter analogies
needing the same message
of love and service unto
one another—realizing that
there is no fear in love; for love
is and of God…and so are we…

It is written that no one has seen God
since the time of our beginnings...up to
the times that has brought us to now—
where we must realize that by loving one
another, God’s love is perfected in us… 

Let us hereby know…thus are the facts:
there can be no fear in perfect love; for
such love cast out all fear—in the spirit
of truth and in the spirit of error—rooting
firm courage in life’s testing times.  Believe!

Butterflies

they say that butterflies can fly at twelve miles per hour, but i can feel them rattling around inside me, 
like a dog off leash, or a hurricane, 
unpredictable and loose. 

they say butterflies can see green, red, and yellow, 
but they forget that butterflies can see the brown and speckled gold of her eyes, 
that they can see the light in her smile when she flashes me that crooked grin. 

records say butterflies have been around for nearly four thousand years, 
that the population is more than they can count, and that’s probably my fault. 
records show one hundred new butterflies are born when she laughs, 
when she tosses her head back and closes her eyes as the laughter shakes her. 

no more analogies;
i can feel my stomach twist in knots when i hear her voice, 
like the sweetest honey, 
dripping down my fingers and ever so sweet. 

no more metaphors;
but i am more butterflies than i am human at this point, 
i am more honey filled than i am anything else.

one of these days, i’ll sprout my own wings.

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