Best Extended Metaphor Poems

The six steep slopes they gave me..  
yes, all were mine.

I can give them to you..
if you wish them.

Though they tend to be.,
unkind. 

Don't wait for them to love,
or understand, 
or forgive..

It's not their way.

They serve only to light a path,
show you the way.

Discover...

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In my past existence,
circumstance sowed my roots
deep into woods of foreign soil,
slowly I ascended spreading my wings,
yearning to be evergreen,
blossoming in summer with glossy verdant leaves -
I became the soul of the earth.

Yet, I never belonged,
among a promenade of silver skinned pines,
who mocked my rough...

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A paper man
Under paper clouds
The sky is falling
and he doesn’t know why

His edges are folded
He feels he’s undone
There isn’t any warmth
from a paper sun

Cellophane grass
Cardboard under feet
He has a paper girlfriend 
With a paper heartbeat

His feelings feel flat
Just a few wrinkles 
Paper snow is falling
A...

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 Was privileged to have sedentary on the seashore in seraphic poetic submersion;
 the ringing sounds from the distant horizon made me entirely lost in  speculation;
 when the sounds of waves from far nimbly touched  ears to distraught me, all of a sudden...

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Sweet Talkers of the Devil

Reptiles in human suits are the true sweet talkers of the devil,
and are well known among the various societies in our world
as slick, sleek actors who fancy the breaking of common law
virtues by their actions in supporting ungodly acts of a...

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In the dim-lit alley of the soul's bazaar,
Were jazz and jive spill from ajar,
We tap our feet, snap fingers, under stars,
And speak in verses, raw and without pause.

The city breathes, a living, pulsing beat,
Its heart a drum, its voice a saxophone,
We weave through streets, our...

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I'm a sinister shell, 
lost in bygone 
deepwaters of
gravity-less 
cerulean tears, 
that saturate 
molten sundrops, 
falling from 
zinc-plated skies, 
as heliophilic snow,
melts frosted 
memories in 
white-washed waves, 
and the moon-
kissed paint of
chamomile dusk 
seeps in
cataclysmic bruises of 
cloudburst refrains. 

Perhaps, phosphenes 
perfumed with 
blueth poppies,
splashing...

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Just say no to sunshine
Trying to penetrate your dark doom
Wrap your black cloud around its fire 
Smoother it in your tears, in your grief
In your past trauma
Feel it struggle in your stranglehold
Feel its energy released, drained,
Spent in your grasp
As happiness gasps dying
Drooping, whithering away
Should it...

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In a box full of everything I’ve ever lost, 
The first thing I’d rummage for is the patience that could’ve led me 
To your open arms at any cost 

Slow moving nights, without a trace of day-dreamt advice 
My home away from home you provided,...

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Travels make the mind wise
Wise enough to know
Everywhere you go is change
That comes either fast or slow
The Sun can be an enemy
Or the sun can be a friend
Weather it is in the desert
Or in the cold and wind
 
The rain goes where it needs
And sometimes...

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They Speak of You 

Hey beautiful,
How often
have I called you softly 
by that name?
Your voice is a warm whisper
more soothing 
than a gentle rain.
You are lovely in so many ways,
I could spend eighty-eight days 
times eighty-eight ways,
just writing poems and plays.
Dedicated to just how beautiful...

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Thank you  
How I keep saying  
Deep gratitude showing  
Generosity, kindness, beauty  
The wonder and joy of giving..
 
What would I consider or measure  
The value of what is received, the feeling of pleasure  
Unable to weigh or count...

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The salt of the seas
sacred in nature...
the salt spice of life
that sweetens our existence...
Albumin, salt of tears
that we cry with blissfulness or sadness...
the salt of the earth
that is offered to the world
to sprout everything, and can not
be tasteless
(thus proclaims gospel)
cheers to salt
of redemption...!...

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They start thick— 
not the polite kind you stir into tea
not the mild drizzle on breakfast toast
but the kind that runs hot
slow
dangerous 
coating your tongue before you grasp
the price of its pleasure.

They start golden— 
dripping off the comb 
sun pressed into their marrow 
too rich,...

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My soul is my canoe
sails me in a sea of verses
a poetic harbor is my destination......

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