Best Figuratively Poems
When my words rhyme
Oh how I love the crime
Such forgivable murder
Of words changing order
Tis not only sequence
For you have to make sense
Read between the lines
'Cause that's where the secret lies
Measure not the length
But comprehend the depth
Sometimes brevity
Outweighs vocabulary
Compare by simile
To show what it's like
Or use metaphor simply
As it directly imply
If synecdoche takes part from whole
Metonomy replaces it all
It uses symbol
For things compatible
Words rumble and jumble
As if to personify
Like humans palpable
Worth to exemplify
Don't misinterpret irony
Filled with incongruity
Discern the ambiguity
To reveal its mystery
- 25th of November, 2017
Unmotivated,
I’d dropped my creative side
on the kickoff line
until I picked it up at halftime.
Fumbling,
I now use things I know little about
to explain things I know even less
about life.
Touchdown when I get it right!
For Nathan's
short poems Poetry Contest
To literal minds
similes are like stumbling blocks,
but
metaphors are death traps.
Figuratively Speaking
What do you want me to do! I want you to read to me
I yelled I "said"
at the top of my lungs to my dim-witted husband
resting my elbows on my knees turning my head away
hands over my ears to drown out the noise
Why don’t you do that for me? Because you didn't ask
I kicked Jesus to the curb, (Figuratively speaking)
So what if He believed words that
I was baptized, drowned hearts
I read The book,
beautiful words become justified
to her naked soul The steady drum,
trying to fill His voice
cubicles of space fills my head,
in our overflowing existence
bathtub; And that we share.
Figuratively Speaking... a compendium
I’m having slugs for dinner
Twelve dozen on toast
Some people turn their nose up
Apparently that’s gross
I’m joining metal plates
Using heat to make them meld
I haven’t got it finished yet
It’s not the end of the weld
Noah built an ark
And he bought a plastic coat
He’s waiting for the rain to come...
Whatever floats your boat
He couldn’t shift the damned thing
Even though he winched it
But then he found it moved twelve mil
Cos somebody half-inched it
I’m tired of being flesh and blood
I’d like to change some day
If I was made of paper
I’d be blown away
Four hundred pounds he weighs
That’s bigger than me gran
He weighs more than a camper-van
That’s really heavy man
It landed on some azure paint
That, as yet, wasn’t dry
Then flew around the light bulb
Like a blue arsed fly
Have you seen a flat-fish
With an over made-up face
Taking drags from handmade fags
It’s fairly common plaice
I’ve got three violins
One left, one right, one middle
I never use the second one
I won’t play second fiddle
He’s standing on the glued bit
Where the pipe split on a bend
Slipped off first time he tried it
But now he’s on the mend
I never been to a place called Rome,
And to know what Romans do at home,
And I thought that Spring was everywhere,
Yet, England claims that 'tis better there,
I think world cities are in the dark,
'Tis Paris, 'City of Lights', hallmark,
The sun does not rise by my window,
But for Samurai's in Tokyo,
I never seen, any 'smithereens',
Nor any jumping Mexican bean's,
Never heard the weeps of a Willow,
Or a bird gone, with just one Swallow,
At age eighty, still I kid am I,
As meaning of words, slips by and by,
Next door are voices, words seem to tease,
What do I care, I am not Chinese.
Still reeling (albeit figuratively) after amidst realization...
keys to apartment and 2009 Hyundai Sonata went missing
Yesterday August tenth year
two thousand and twenty one,
I experienced blitzkrieg of explosive panic
shattering an ordinarily calm veneer
me (a doubting Thomas) resorting to *****
re the higher power to rescue me sanity,
inducing absent appetite
and subsequent loss of weight
(think irritable bowels),
which shell shock spurred tête-à-tête
with divine creator yours truly did state
salvation to post traumatic stress
courtesy raging conflagration
within webbed wide world inside me pate.
Both yours truly and the missus
suffered major panic attack
analogous experiencing great fall
whereby figuratively our respective heads did crack
proxy war kickstarted incessantly bombarded
with blitzkrieg of emotional flak
bonafide doggone fusillade
without rhyme nor reason knick knack
rained down and thundered paddywhack
futile against railing training expert bombardier,
(no matter gunnery pro inside my head)
raining one after another blow,
I quickly lost track
impossible mission regarding wrack
con a sense, thus yak... yak... yak...
Continues poetaster describing his arc
of woe spiraling into endless anguish
and thinking worst case scenario did seize
thought processes, whereby
an unsuspecting individual found
and pocketed our treasured keys,
which would allow, enable and provide him/her
to steal aforementioned vehicle
and/or perhaps even access entrance
to apartment unit b44
threatening/killing both of us
referring to das scribe and his wife.
No such tragedy occurred
only rather humdrum end to saga
because wise
notion lodged itself
within sixty plus shades of gray matter (mine)
to rifle thru soiled clothes,
I hastily tossed into opened space
courtesy when bypass closet doors opened
and lo and behold sought after items beheld!