Best Allegories Poems
“The silent song of the sighing breeze,”
In leafless demeanor of shuddering trees,
Whispered cries of a dismantled dream
Augmenting dissonance of broken theme,
A theme composed in the promise of yore
Avowing endearing passions evermore,
Of love eternal, enamoring core of soul,
Till its amorous glory, fate savagely stole.
Though zephyrs forlorn, still cruelly blow,
Wailing lovelorn woe of forgotten throe,
Despair is vanquished from song of sorrow,
For hymns of bliss sing of hopeful morro.
Pledges of today, foretell future of ardour,
Vying dreamscapes, musings-ecstatic adore,
Buoying tides of love to tomorrow’s shore,
Abandoning yesteryears memories abhor;
Of pensive sighs, spent-emotions decry,
Of dejection lamenting love gone awry,
Of nightmares trembling sleepless night,
Of allegories wistful, destiny’s hands write.
“The silent song of the sighing breeze,”
Now sings of love, from flowering trees,
Whispering melodies to a dulcet dream
Augmenting allure of lovesome theme.
Line #1
Categories:
allegories, love hurts, memory,
Form:
Rhyme
OF SAGE LEAVES AND SWEET FLOWERS…
While flowers may be deemed
The sweetness of nature and life,
It is the leaves of her trees that are
The essences of life, death, and rising:-
It is the leaves of the tree
That feeds and nourishes her;
That ensures her branches’ bearings;
Photosynthesizing her peace and love:-
While living flowers are plucked,
Vase-like buried, and housed until death,
They are later thrown away—forgotten.
But fallen leaves reflect resurrection:-
Yes, in nature, trees shed their shading blades
And for a while, stoically stand in nakedness;
Piercing skyward to the coming resurrection
Of their green and rainbow colored leaves.
Thus, I’d rather be a leaf than a flower;
All trees bear leaves; but all don’t flower.
Leaves—nature’s resurrection symbols;
Her saged bristlecone pine allegories:-
Categories:
allegories, allegory, analogy, flower, imagery,
Form:
Prose
Poets at Play
I played with words today –
They called to me
“Come out and play with us!”
Childhood companions
Building rhythms like treehouse forts –
Playhouses of analogy -
Crafting rhymes that follow the leader
Into mud pie irony;
Playing peek-a-boo with synonyms,
Hide and seek with inspiration;
Coming out of hiding places in stanzas
Stacked like pick up sticks;
Patty cake in anagrams –
"A tacky pest" like little brothers –
Jumping out, to yell “Surprise!”
In the “punniest” personifications;
Slide down the metaphoric slide
To allegories of apple trees;
Swing back and forth with double entendre - sky high in the sky;
Hang upside down from “jungle-gyms” whistling alliteration
Hop scotch acrostics
March in meter to rock, paper, scissors -
Wondering what to wear and where I Spy anagrams;
Building up London Bridge, falling down in metrics,
To stand like statues of frozen tag
With your friend assonance
Taking sides like antonyms in games so like red rover
Chasing similes with smiles, to kick the can down the road,
Duck and run in duck, duck goose;
Measure feet in a leap frog of a blind man’s bluff;
Time to come in – come in free verse for the day,
Simon says now writing right just as fun
As a cat’s cradle at the end of my word play.
4/7/20
Categories:
allegories, childhood, fun, metaphor, poems,
Form:
Free verse
I sit here with a half bottle of
19 Crimes, red
sipping with an agenda
trying to decipher my
dream
from last night
it was the oddest thing
I dreamt in poetry
metaphors and allegories
rhymes and alliterations
colors and textures
finite and infinite
real and the surreal
everything a blur
sip
it is now 3am and I just want to
sleep
but this damn thing is in my head
and won't let me rest
(sip)
I am focusing my
mind
sifting through the mist and fog
searching for some elusive
truth
that has thus far escaped me
I tilt the bottle for one last drop
and then suddenly, inexplicably
my mind begins to clear
a shape is forming, round
eyes without a face
then slowly, gradually...
ahh, of course, of course
it all makes perfect sense now
for if I am to dream in
poetry
it only stands to reason-
the dream is
you
Categories:
allegories, dream, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
This isn't just a poem
This isn't just another emotion
This is me, these are my thoughts
The Imagery is my sight,
And The Allegories are my Life
I'm lonely, There is just me
But there's so many people around
but no one can hear my loudest screams
Don't Shout nor Scream
This is all just Normal To Me
I'm torn, I'm Cut
Part of my heart stabbed,
and then taken from me
The Search for my innocence,
Is like a moa hunt
Don't Shout nor Scream
This is all just Normal To Me
Laughing and Jokes
all directed towards me
Just to Hurt me
Cover all of the Halls
"***, Emo, *****"
Words I too often know
Don't Shout nor Scream
This is all just Normal To Me
Curling her hair
putting on her makeup
"You're worthless and nothing to Me"
Says the so-called all-loving-one
As she screams:
"Why am I not Pretty"
Don't Shout nor Scream
This is all just Normal To Me
This is not just a poem
not just some words
my pen cries with each words
But this is Just a Glimpse
Don't Shout nor Scream
This is all just Normal To Me
Categories:
allegories, allegory, angst, childhood, confusion,
Form:
Lyric
** A Poetry Avalanche **
Goodness! Lord!
I’m on a roll this morning!
The poetry keeps coming —
nearly torturing!
My keypad arm and fingers are
alrady so tired…
It’s as if
The address of poetry were
On fire!
— With every poem present there
retreating
From the inspirations wrought from
burning memories, preferring
The refreshing lure of
allegories and fairy tales
to aid my creating.
There are still three more hours
Marked off in my planner to turn
Words into exemplary verses.
However, ink now covers every page
Printed out, such that all my papers
appear all scribbled and smeared.
So, I’ve quit scrawling in this diary
And brought my markers out, to kneel
Down here and write
All over
Across our living room’s floor!
————————————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 6/27/2023
Categories:
allegories, fun, humorous, light, poems,
Form:
Alliteration
The man like a phoenix rose from the smoke
And we with the audicity to hope looked up and heard
The strange cawing of the vulture white bird
Like a code unciphered, and yet the angst provoke
Of allies in the foxholes fretting for a change.
O this is a time between peace and war, no strange
Allegories here. Numbered with dead, some
Disrupting double consciousness found ransome
In books and ballot, a narrow, but fertile range
To sing of the weary years a different way.
We sang a rap around the blues without dismay
And knew that singing needed wings as well
For feathers when lingered in the flames made hell
Hotter in the heart. And there the phoenix like day
Renewed rose to better us in our dreams.
But the constant cawing, the vultures loud screams
In decibels of silence are rattling the moon
A phoenix only flies when the nest egg is ruin
Walk softly on the brittle shells, here are our dreams
It's late, it's late you cannot turn back the clock
Among the prairie hens are eagles fallen from the rock.
Categories:
allegories, black-african amerrose,
Form:
Verse
Augury – 2-20-25 Edward Ibeh – Sponsor; Title Chosen - Augury; Pick a Title No. 49
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Augury
Embers of prophecy rise
In the haunting omens of owls
Divining tea leaves
Heralds speak future through opaque signs
And signals of frantic dogs
Before earth heaves in shock of slip strikes
Or the coming of rainbows
Born from sun and blackness.
Gossamer angels bend over vanishing logic,
Brooding envoys of dark horses
In clouds of fireflies or heresies,
Burned at the stake of mineral, mist or ice.
Messenger, from the mystical, utters the unseen,
The face of mute words, allegories in shrouds
Calling to fabled grails, emerge from mystery.
Heraldic voice stands outside algorithms
Wears a clear cloak named vision or terror
A visage drifting through past or dawn
In images without bones,
Unshakable the slow creeping spice
Built on shape shifting tides
Like mist from cloud castles
Before seeking birth in the hands
Of reality’s fiction.
Categories:
allegories, mystery, myth, riddle, surreal,
Form:
Free verse
I belong to no one else.
I am my own— hardly,
A blinking aggregate of macromolecules
Staring down from the edge of a black hole
That they tell me is eternity.
The preacher told me he would pray for me;
I don’t know what for.
I am everything I could ever need;
They fumble for something more.
They are aligned in
Archaic allegories,
Paradoxical ceremonies.
I sit at the edge of the deeply unknown
And am not afraid to be my own.
What do I believe in?
Disbelief,
The scientific method.
Entropy,
Explanations for the reverent.
I am the prophet of my own dissenting,
A martyr risen for reinventing.
I am degenerate; a random genetic repetition.
Yet both my fate and inhibition
A sentient sieve's distinct nerve endings,
A protagonist that chooses my own beginning.
--
For the "Religious Poetry: Non-Christian" contest, Atheism
Categories:
allegories, philosophy, religion, science, self,
Form:
Rhyme
Our house is our castle… Of that your can plainly see.
The turrets are there to hide in… The grand hall for festivities…
The dungeon is for the bad boys… that try to invade my day.
It’s where the Hubby spends most of his time, yes, with Trolls, at play.
Visitors are always welcome, but ‘be warned’ about the moat…
There’ll be no skinny dipping there, biting allegories, you must note.
So, do not bare your souls of naughty thoughts, within this castle of mine.
Or ‘Truly’ you’ll end up in the moat… being bit in the behind.
The sheriff ‘Armadilly Billy’ is the watchman at the door.
‘Miss Kitty Perfect’ is my voice as it was meant to soar.
The penguins are the greatest friends, which you would ever want.
And my Dragon is the mischief, with which I stir the pot, so nonchalant.
Grandpa Troll is my ‘words of wisdom’ guy, who keeps me down to earth.
The Trolls play out my every whim, in harmless, yet crazy, mirth.
Hubby stirs the pot with endless whimsy, to levels of great renown.
And the neighbor hood witch saves the day, when we’re about to drown.
Perhaps you’ve noticed my castle, ‘is in’ this mind of mine, the belfry.
And all the pieces, except for Hubby, are in there hanging, so very free.
Now if it is a writer: that you are dearly in need of… or are, in wont to be.
Just open up your mind, and build your own castle, there, just like me.
So cross that bridge, and “come on over’, enjoy your own… insanity!
Categories:
allegories, allegory, fantasy, humorous, imagination,
Form:
Light Verse
Mysteries of a passionate warm Summer night.
Obfuscating desolation that weighted my mind.
Raging to conquer my new found love
Needed compassion to emancipate my shackled heart
Insidious my passions compose allegories of my love
Nefarious turns my gentle heart in delirious expectations
Gently my enamoured soul embraces the warm body next to me
Benevolence of a moon lit night and a star spangled sky.
Rejuvenates my hearts desire to be possessed.
Enticed by the warmth of your sweet and tender lips.
Allured by your lingering limbs, and the softness of your breasts.
Kindling my deepest desire in hues of gold and yellow across the sky.
Satiate my amorous dexterity, showering you with ecstasy tenderly,
like the gentle " MORNING BREAKS."
Categories:
allegories, love,
Form:
Acrostic
Amass comrades,
Tell of your fractured spirit;
They may perhaps share your taste,
But in no way
Hang stick poetry
With Shakespeare,
Like Claude Monnet
Accompanying Renata Bernal
To the ballroom.
There is nothing abstract,
Or occult
In allegories
Of men parting
And women crying
Like clouds
Hanging over Kauai.
If I desire to be pedestrian
I would walk
The middle-of-the-road.
For Christ sake
Let’s write … gems.
If this charge is too tedious
Our job is to listen.
Categories:
allegories, on writing and words,
Form:
Free verse
**Disclaimer: This is strictly satire-tongue-in-cheek-written before I became a poet- sort of. An opportunity to laugh at myself but poets, rock!
Poetry Defined
Poetry is tedious
with its
silly syntax and similes and symbolism
and analogies and allegories and…alliterations.
Stein said, “a rose is a rose is a rose” until it isn’t, claims Magritte.
Why does it have to be
so…
abstract?
It isn’t a game show-
Don’t make me guess;
what has velvety concentric circles when dried creates
mind numbing potpourri?
Poetry is bouffant.
Marie Antoinette pompous and full of itself.
Rhythm and rimes- iambic pentameters or haiku
just tell me the story.
It’s laborious and lengthy-
ever read a short poem that said anything?
Poetry is frivolous –
all the skipping throughs and dashing off to sunsets
and crossing ponds.
It short circuits the brain and takes liberty with
punctuation and lack of paragraphs
with its stops and starts
and no periods or commas
to know when you can breathe again
or drift off or get a snack.
Never put an exclamation point in poetry! (exclamation point noted)
That’s excitement;
poetry is nonchalant; like a lazy tabby reposed on a tattered couch.
“ I’d rather not be analyzed,” declares the poet.
“I have a shrink.”
For me a simple story will do
like,
My “once upon time”
won’t really rhyme
and at the end
you will see
they can still say
“I love you”
without sitting under a tree.
Categories:
allegories, funny,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Adventures and Allegories
Angst and Animals
Anniversary Art
And African Brothers
Businesses and Caregiving
Childhood and Internet
Confused Cowboys
And Daughters Death
Dedication and Depression
Devotion and Education
Epic Faith
And Family Fantasy
Fathers and Food
For Children and Forgiveness
Friendship's Funny
And Girlfriend's Happiness
Health and History
Holiday and Hope
Husbands Imagination
And Inspirational Introspection
Life and Loss
Lost Love and Love
Mothers Music
And Mysterious Native Americans
Natural Disasters and Nature
Nostalgia and On Work and Working
On Writing with Words
And Parody Passions
Peace and People
Pets and Philosophy
Places Political
And Recovery From... Sadness
Satire and School
Science and Science Fiction
Seas and Seasons
And Sister Socialism
Son and Song
Sorry and Space
Sporting Sympathy
And Teenage Thank Yous
Time and Uplifting
Urban and Visionary
Wars and Weddings
And Wives who Work
All these choices
And I had a block?
Thank you dear soup
For the key to the lock
There's something to be seen
We are jailed by the list
Fifteen more
Or so that you've missed
Writing is freedom
Make Other a choice
Stop choosing for us
And give me a voice
Categories:
allegories, politicalinspirational, work, education, work,
Form:
List
O mother, take me there, where I find the gratifying grace,
Take me there, where I dwell in bliss,
Take me there, where I ramble in rapturous joy,
Take me to that miraculous planet and nurture me,
O mother, take me there, where I find the tantalizing nothingness,
Take me there, in to the surrealistic world and let me ponder over the nature’s allegories,
Take me to this exuberant excursion,
O mother, I have become claustrophobic, I cannot live in this enclosed space,
Take me to the infinity where I have no confinity,
Take me through the valleys of sunshine and glory,
O mother, Let me live the eternal love,
Let me smell the soil,
Let me hear the choirs of sea,
Let me be an epicurean,
Let me squelch and tread on the planet,
Let me see the picturesque of nature,
Let me lay my body on the roots of heaven,
Let me dandle on your knees,
Let me construe the dappled sky,
Let me live and leave,
O mother, instigate your benign impulsion,
I long to see you and the world,
I want to be resurrected,
O mother, I loved you before I knew, I believed in you before I knew.
Categories:
allegories, allegory, mother, planet,
Form:
Ballad