Best Likening Poems
With the tremulous dark vista so far and yet so near
Abandoning my defences ~ I stand in awe ~ not in fear
Virtuoso Maestro unleash
a Composition Grandioso
To Overtures of a Symphony
herald the raging storming Tempo
Staccato Strains cascading
rapid torrents of Treble and Tremolo
Rhythmic Beats a Prelude
to an intensifying Triple Time Scherzo
Silken sail unfurled I embrace the storm of your tempestuous symphony
Crashing~ drifting~ floating~ flowing~ tasting ~awakening my melodic epiphany
Effervescent chilling thrilling air as
Allegro whelms Allegretto
Electrifying sizzling Musette ~
Trills a mesmeric Capriccio
Registers booming Bass Notes
rumbling within your thunderous Vibrato
Echoing claps of thunder Prompt
a spectacular Cadence Crescendo
I release my Spirit to gratify every phantasy in its sight
The soaring Tempest of my Soul liberates its own Philharmonic flight
Inhibitions abandoned as I succumb to your Music of the Night
Footnote:
By way of musical term allegory, I have endeavored to dramatize and romanticize the Awesomeness of an Electrical Thunderstorm and simultaneously likening it to the rush of tactual Sensual, Sexuality and Emotions experienced in romantic instances. I felt that the instrumental rendition of ‘The Phantom’ Musical, aptly accentuates the trepidation, anticipation and elating sentiments portrayed in the various elements of my poem.
Categories:
likening, desire, music, night, romance,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
In that hidden mystery I call my mind;
There are places I seldom go;
It’s in these places that my soul often cries out;
Perhaps in likening to the wolf that howls to the moon
While my heart beats it’s irregular rhythm;
The thought of you consumes me;
And my waking moments;
They are of you and the times we spent together.
And I miss you so much;
And I want so much;
To see that me;
That once reflected in your eyes.
While draped in my shielded cape of invisibility;
I imagine standing before a gap;
I want to jump; but I won’t.
For on the other side is the unknown.
And I remember so clearly;
Your answer when I asked if you liked me was;
“Do I like you; I like you like crazy”
And I loved the sound of that so much.
It turns out it was me;
It’s me that’s crazy.
I was crazy to leave when I did;
I was crazy to have never come back.
We loved spending time together;
And we were together but;
No one owned anyone;
And our obligation was simply to enjoy.
How we ravished each other;
We were as two lone timber wolves;
Filled with desire;
That we burned by the light of the moon.
And I understand now;
The desire to cry out;
For as I look into nights illuminations;
It seems that here, lost dreams must live.
Categories:
likening, lovecrazy, me, places,
Form:
**A WINNING POEM**
That night, my heart pleaded i should
Wait over and pass the night at grand pa's
Old inn.
Enormous was my concern to reach home
And see Constance La France.... the rambling poet.
About "create your own form, may be?"
I embraced the night and darkness mingled
With my eyes;
Yonder are night workers,
Here and there they wander,
Seaching for who to plunder,
Oh! what a mighty wonder.
Look at that supermarket,
And a man with a mask,
Gun and matchet,
He most be a burglar,
Oh! i must be undercover,
Or else i step into danger,
For the night is in dark anger.
"Ahh! ahhh!! ahhhh!!!" the cry of a victim,
Something must have wrought a cry,
Who will be the rescue?
For me, this night walk must linger.
Look at the police, having me as an
Accomplice, they need my identity and money,
Yet yonder is the victim crying....
Look over there! drug users
Assembling in dark corners,
Swaying like feathers,
In the midst of their daily rituals,
That is never beneficial,
Oh! blind earth leading to an open death.
Group upon groups, stationed in their post,
Looking so malicious, looking so vicious,
Brandishing weapons, ready for the slaughter,
Gun shoots clatter as a group fight starter.
Charles melody has seen wonder
And endless palaver.
Knives mingled with flesh, blood and bone,
Men eager and bold,
Heads bounce like ball,
Suddenly, calmness......
Gba! gba!! gba!!! another trigger's verdict?
Lord when will these pass over?
For i am likening to salt in water,
Never to calm and ponder,
The night walk seemed not to be over.
For the night is in dark anger....
BY CHARLES MELODY (Lightening Ink) **14TH PLACE IN
CONSTANCE LA FRANCE CONTEST,
WITH THE THEME; "DEEP, DARK AND DRAMATIC".
===============================
The form of this poem is called,"stream of consciousness."
i formed it so because the thought kept coming
like a stream or river of consciousness in my mind,
i was conscious of the dangers i knew, especially in my Little
African village and the war that covered it.
For "Constance La France, the Rambling poet's contest.
Categories:
likening, adventure, confusion, death, faith,
Form:
Lyric
Her name for now, I wish to conceal
And when I make my case i will reveal
Well then, I hope we have a deal
Combing the streets of the suburb, I've always thought ideal
Mostly, it helps my shattered and dejected heart to heal
Once in a while I come across this seal.....
Pardon me... I know i don't sound real
No seal will comb the streets hoping to find a meal
More importantly a seal in the streets sound surreal
But I'm only likening her beauty to that of a seal
And if its ever possible, her beauty I would wish to steal.....
To be Continued........
Categories:
likening, lovebeauty, sound, beauty, sound,
Form:
Rhyme
Thee Apple Hove Bing an Herbivore...?
(hint – app peal)
Sans maintaining a strict carb on diet
(for Peat Sake) iz like really coal
man, cuz carnivores consume meat,
which genetically modified organisms
engender incredible non edible size foal,
these agribusiness farmed animals shot up
with synthetic hormones
spurring heightened development
accidentally, inadvertently, and unleashing
King Kong monstrous outrageous gnoll,
whereat each footfall taken
by scary creature resembling
a humanoid hyena
results in said frankenfood digging,
one after another humungous hole
resulting in dirt pile
cresting, kickstarting, and
rivaling a mini
spring mount tin knoll
necessitating massive
manhunt to cap cha
lurching, pounding, and thudding
beast whereat entire
motley crue all harkened
from places named Lowell,
nonetheless heil lee calf full
to arm themselves with more'n one
tranquilized tipped pole
anachronistic cautionary expedition generating
masterfully baiting monster
with immense gritty buttered roll,
whose gargantuan ramp
aging spree across
world wide web
found endangered population
tuff lee from their
picturesque enclave i.e. Floss
on the Mill as zee unbridled
quasi jabberwocky took a selfie gloss
silly attired (trumpeting
"FAKE" ska don face mask)
likening pulling up moss
as coiffed "hair...hm..." all the while
gabbling, instagramming,
snapchatting, and toss
sing fearsome Frankenstein
with especial bent toward
those sharing surname Voss
in tandem to flagrant
disregard to paradigm
housing hefty prime
statutes of grammatically
correct syntactical rhetoric, plus rhyme
ming showcasing a novel
discovered talent to enrich pantheon
until the end of time.
since times of auld
where linkedin note able people
(some long haired others bald)
plaintively, suddenly, and called
urgently to be importantly installed
to brainstorm figuring a solution
to vanquish, nightmarish,
and hellish abominable madness!
Categories:
likening, 11th grade, 12th grade,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
The smell of wood smoke drifts through
The air with no presence of mind to settle anywhere
Except on the clothes of old men who struggle to
Open tin cans with the anticipation of a child with
An unopened gift.
Cardboard schemes and wooden things create
Shelter for the menagerie of characters who dwell within
Their sanctuaries of loneliness and pipe dreams...some
Have made little windows to view a world that is slightly
Askew to their likening.
Around a fire grumblers grumble, jokers joke about
Their predicaments of life and sing songs of Camelot
Where no knights slay dragons, no same ls in distress
To be rescued by this tortilla flat would be heroes...
A sense of normalcy exists here.
We count our blessings like we count our coins.
We count on our friends and we count on no one
To bring a shovel and dig us out of the sludge
Of life that we live beside this river in makeshift
Castles of trash.
Sundown and you smell pots of what's not cooking
And the nervous chatter of women holding Steinbeck
Children whose eyes long for wishes and dreams
That only reach out as far as they can see...I weep
For their innocence.
Darkness comes and the drunks are drunker...me,
Myself and I chase the dragon once more to escape
This reality of camp life whose existence is a foreboding
For society to take heed...don't they know they are one
Paycheck away from being me?
The smell of sleep surrounds the camp, some
Dreaming, some not, but all aware of tomorrow and
Thee morning's smokey haze of disillusionment and
Paranoia of leaving this secret seclusion...actors
Without a stage.
Categories:
likening, addiction, anxiety, emotions, environment,
Form:
Free verse
Narrow and shallow shining laser focus
into chasm while teetering on brink
akin to scurrying thru microcosmic burrow
of microscopic Manhattan skyscrapers
wink'n nod and blink,
this ace of spades heart (diamond
in the rough) poet digs club billy shallow
sometimes forced to spelunk
thru crawl space chink
hunting down gamesome dodging
catlike whim elusively outpaced,
yet webbed, whorled wide net
nonetheless doth cap cha alive
agile adept idealized rat fink,
which unseen quite quiet mouse notion
gives hardy fellow run for his money,
within scrunched brow mental chase
possibly connected to a preceding pondering
or appearing randomly
viz, non-sequitur conscious kink
said quarry i.e. whimsical thoughts
frequently vanish without a trace
quick as mental cogs and wheels
generate snapchatting, riveting, twittering link
process allowing, enabling, and providing
albeit easily distracting ability
to grasp awesome zinging, lightening,
fleeting brainstorm within windswept
mind space *****sapiens to think
shimmering insight cognizant ability
likening ode on Grecian urn vase
frieze depicting elusive capture
thought process lifespan shorter than a wink
via third eye blind of
comfortably numb beatle browed face
to locate source giving rise
king inducing minor frustration at inability
to nab (albeit painlessly) shimmering zinc
like inception, deception, taking wing
within fifty plus shades swing
and conception of consciousness stir ring
nanobyte size quisling
gray matter housing chromosomal ping
pong pin balling genes summons King
kong of Leon intrigue, jing
gull ling, where disparate
ideas linkedin fling
pollinated neurological network ebbing
and flowing, sans during
writerly blitzkrieg thread ding
provocative point of pinterest bing
proclimation emancipation pensive predilection
to contrive a means and ways
to corral mischievous mental minions
who seem to vanish without a trace
holographic after effect or image evoked
from virtual reality, the latest modality
to pair dime a dozen stray cats re:
untamed cerebral creatures tempting
contemplation to occupy hours.
Categories:
likening, 10th grade, 12th grade,
Form:
Free verse
I look up from my post, lying on the floor
Questioning the cracks in the ceiling above me
Likening them to my recent history
Stretched from end to end
Wall to wall
They mimic my life
Like jagged scars
A life-line transcribed
From palm to plaster
Split here and there, seemingly without rhyme or reason
Yet I know it has a cause
A beginning and therefore, an end.
And in between I witness an uncertainty
Will the cracks expand?
Run amok?
Split the surface and break?
Or will they hold up the sky
with an unerring strength
As it has since that first tendril started to run across the clean slate,
Of wood and paint, heart and soul, above my world.
Cracks let the light in don’t they?
Yes, love
They do
© Cornelia aka Flying Angel 2015
Categories:
likening, growth, hope, inspirational, life,
Form:
Free verse
darkness invites
bringing out the self that matters
(free of all the chicanery brought on by daylight)
inside the lit candle light
(painting only part of the face, allowing a subtle beauty
illustrated like standing neath’ the full moon)
flickering &
with a handshake of darkness
unlike a politician’s fakery
comes the shadows behind the faces &
with a hug from the quiet calm of darkness
comes the likening of death for which we are all
eventually bound---
lured into the depths
the first notion is to fear
the second is to panic
the third is to try &
change the situation
so as to find that comfortable
soft white
that the reading light brings or
the annoying glare of the office
fluorescents
keeping your eyes open
even if you are tired & sick of being the
grinding tool,
yes, the darkness washes all that away---
religions,
which people run to when they can’t accept their own
reality, or when they want to try & make their lives fulfilling
by taking part in even larger lies
than the ones that they tell themselves incessantly
(to convince themselves that there is a need to be religious),
frown on the darkness,
for it is after all where all their imaginary demons reside &
it is the final threat
the one that will fade away like all the rest
leaving us unafraid & hence more compassionate toward one another
when we all are fine with darkness
when death no longer holds the meaning that it currently seems to
when we kiss & tell our exploits
in the darkness
without feeling one bit of guilt,
when everyone no longer struggles for a
“light at the end of the tunnel”---
the tunnel has nothing to hide.
Categories:
likening, life, death, death,
Form:
Free verse
Your love is likening a bed, at home;
With four posts as legs represents the world you see;
And the sheets on top are the skies, (blue skies)
God you are the bed I want to lie in;
Covering my lot, filed with trues;
Your the blanket that keeps me warm;
As the comforter
You keep me secure
And the blanket keeps me worm as the comforter releases its own;
From the sun to the vast reaches of space;
God you're the bed I want to lie in;
Because you keep me from danger and all harm;
In my lot, filled with the trues;
And I don't want you to stop;
No, NO, No;
Your love is liken a bed at my home;
You keep me rested safe and warm;
Father, God you are the bed I want to lie in;
And the blanket keeps me warm as the comforter releases its own
From the sun to the vast reaches of space;
Your like a small plate a springtime, breakfast with bacon and eggs;
God you're the bed, the bed I want to lie in;
So that you can keep me warm;
Lay down my burdens;
I lay down my troubles now;
I rest here and I am no longer tired now;
Your love is liken a bed at my home;
You keep me safe and rested and warm;
I just want to be blessed and received;
God you are the bed I want to lie in;
written by James Edward Lee Sr. Aug 10 2011
taken From my anthology " The Writings On the Wall" 2011(c)
Categories:
likening, appreciation, christian, desire, devotion,
Form:
Lyric
I gazed upon the familiar dirt road, partially submerged in the narrow ditch.
Every inch of its hardened surface was damp to the touch, causing my lips to tremble with uncertainty.
The darkness that surrounded me felt imbued with mysterious enchantment, reminiscent of soft white magnolias and crushed velvet.
Within the confines of my bedroom at night, a silence hung in the air, as if it resided within the very essence of my home.
I had learned to cease my futile resistance, for all that remained was a chilling anticipation, saturated with cold moisture.
No one seemed to believe that I had no control over the forces that resided within me.
My gothic neighbor, however, provided an explanation: during these prolonged encounters, it was best to refrain from taking any action.
Each rose, with its firm grip, filled my entire being, as if it had made a conscious decision.
In the depths of my inner mind, I warned myself not to find pleasure in this experience, likening it to the pressure that opens soft nuts.
It felt as though I were perpetually falling, searching for the perfect description.
Like a mighty wave retreating to the shore too soon, its impact was only felt on the inside of my thigh and lower leg, where it converged.
Time after time, in every direction imaginable, it pushed aside all illumination, focusing solely on the scorching heat deep within me.
Life is too short, and night, with its clandestine nature, becomes a song I keep secretly hidden within myself.
The night sky, adorned with brilliantly burning stars, witnessed the moon elevated high above, isolated from the rest.
Each night, I engaged in a wrestle with these forces, akin to slender tall trees releasing their grip on green verdant leaves.
As sleep overcame me, wide awake, I could not speak of that.
Categories:
likening, 12th grade,
Form:
Free verse
The first glimpse of this radiant creature, unraveled mind's clarity
Enchanted fairy tale innocence, God's miracle gift, 'tis rarity
My heavens opened, likening the world stage parting the red sea
Innocence so lovely angel's sang chorus of my heart felt melody
Curled flowing raven locks, fall upon the shoulders bare
Complexion pure perfection child fair beyond compare
God's wrath of brimstone and fire, does not extinguish this secret desire
After midnight mass in the loft young squire, who sings in the churches choir
Parishioners have no scent or smell, stained by the priest demon knave
For behind closed door, he hold's them in bondage, as master is to slave.
Categories:
likening, allegory
Form:
Couplet
A reporter balked at his assignment for the week.
Too insulted to keep quiet, he complained, “I’ve never talked
to a grain of sand before!” “Yet, you must become meek
and DO it,” was the response. To the beach, he walked.
He zeroed in on one insignificant (he thought) grain.
“Hello, down there—uh, well, Grain. As a reporter, I’ve been told
to interview a grain of sand.” Observers, thinking him insane,
fled. One called 9-1-1. This grain was quite bold:
“Why, yes, I’d be honored to share my thoughts today.
What would you like to know?” The reporter asked,
“What is your purpose on earth? In what way
are you significant?” That the reporter felt unfairly tasked
was quite apparent. Not at all caught off-guard,
Grain responded, “Mr. Reporter, I feel I am here to symbolize~~
YOU and to help arrogant people like you, who find it so hard
to face your tininess. You fail to realize
each of you is just one more wee speck on this vast Earth.
The reporter rebuked Grain: “You are likening yourself to ME?!
You are a grain of SAND; I am a human of inestimable worth~~~
His next words, to the police, were a fevered plea:
“Why are you cuffing me? I must make you understand
I’m a star reporter doing my job.” The officer said, “I won’t fail
to do my job. When people on the beach yell at the sand,
I have no choice but to haul them off to jail!”
Interview 2 contest received NA April 28, 2024
Categories:
likening, conflict,
Form:
Rhyme
Bloody leftist a wrist tuck crat!
Fingers of left hand cried freedom,
detached themselves and declared
mutiny gesticulating thumb thing
awful, than furiously haughtily
prancing, skittering, zipping,...
as self important independent digits
indiscriminately deleting one after
another email, mine eyes gleaned
subject pertaining to boldface all
CAPITALIZED notification urging,
indicating, beckoning... immediate
reply regarding... yours truly... huh
me (Matthew Scott Harris) arbitrarily
designated lucky random winner of
... some large dollar figure sporting
countless zeros left of decimal point,
I wept inconsolably intuitively aware
foregone irretrievable message haint
spam, but authentic bonafide one in
bajillion monetary sweepstakes drawing
impossible mission to recall subliminal
communique, and resorted to hypnosis
to jog mine memory and access lost data
which hoop fully convincingly explains
temporary absence, yea... understandable
skepticism induces furrowed brow, but
honest to dog Ott's well known selling
exotic plants also provide Asian mystical,
herbal, and celestial therapy, yet if unable
to successfully tweezer out valuable key
information locked within subconscious,
courtesy specially trained experts tending
rooted prized nuggets likening jewel heist
forager determined to plunder loot, the
mind will feel comfortably numb, which
allows, enables, and provides cathartic,
holistic, opportunistic... modus operandi
to accept permanently zapped chance of
lifetime to experience wealth (poof! gone
within a flash) instant karma at the least
managed to evoke fickle, nimble, and
worthwhile poet to build splendiferous
castles in the air.
Categories:
likening, 11th grade, 12th grade,
Form:
Free verse
Blavatsky said space is God
but pause we her give a nod,
consider: where is God not?
Contemplate thus, be self-taught.
Wisdom Leadbeater affirmed
and Annie Besant confirmed;
koilon: a term coined for space,
they both recognised by grace.
A quick google search will show,
there’s more to space than we know
oft whispered of in folklore,
this vastness is heaven’s door.
Straightforward are words we state,
known to those who meditate,
likening space to a womb,
that doth existence entomb.
We may claim soul’s ascended,
when space-time is transcended,
which we can if we be still,
to God surrendering will.
Categories:
likening, mystery, space, spiritual,
Form:
Jueju