Best Metaphor Poems
Be the star that brightens someone’s dark sky,
Be the light that illuminates a gloomy night,
Be the flame of compassion to life gone awry,
Even if you don’t think your candle is bright.
Despair not in a world gripped in jaws of woe
For beyond hills of grief dwells halo of hope,
Be the spring that rises through wintry throe,
Even when struggling in laments hard to cope.
Be the forest that grows through ashes of fire,
Be the dream that assuages angst of nightmare,
Be the angel of goodwill when times are dire,
Even when fate, callously, ignores your prayer.
Be not pain of misery, be not voice of dismay,
From goals of life revered, you must not stray,
Wish not for anyone, horizons shrouded gray,
Even while a storm drenches your sunny day.
-Quarantine of the Soul-
Tranquil pills fall deep like the night
A sweet fangless course
Bites with no remorse
Your eyes struggle to read my ageless soul
Lost
Dark
You open a heart under Quarantine
The past
The present
The future
Stand in the way of what was and never will be
A contagious disease
I call "LOVE!"
(Past-- you came)
Somewhere deep inside --with you--
The Maverick
The Majestic
The Arriving Vessel of Light
I separated myself from the world
--to be with you--
I polished a new diamond night
With pleasures of meeting where our hearts began
Deep like the night, you woke my sleepless soul
Removing it from the safe harbor of the sea
-Isolated from all to see
No risk or chance, of smiling endlessly
(Present-- you set)
Tonight you fell from Mandalay
You spoke in a way that Cut my throat with truth
You detained my ego clouding the auspices sky
Allowing a smile
A tender peek into your heart
It spread in ways -- I wanted more
I kept deep until you found your way past the door
Persistent memories
In search of eternity
Tonight lets learn to live again
With no fear, I remove all labels
Making the moon and sun rise together
My love, my life now depends on you
(Future-- you left)
With no explanation
The age of Quarantine will forever set
You came to me
Set me free
Just to leave
Now you are a virus --- Just like them!!!
By: PD
"I wandered lonely as a cloud." William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a boat
a shallow dingy left behind,
alone in marsh of reeds remote
my paint now faint so unrefined,
my only hope the next high tide
on brackish water then I’ll ride,
in aimless drift left up to fate
the wind and wave upon the bay
on rhythmic swells, I’ll grow sedate
with naught to see through mists of gray…
on ripples pale so soft so free
my destination out to sea;
that distant place where lay the sun
across the sunset waters west,
the ambiance of cirrus spun
to brush with colors every crest
where I can bathe in shades so bold
of melting solar marigold.
Yet — let go I must of wishful dreams!
My lifeline dispossessed I strayed
and followed streams with other schemes —
now lofty tide cannot be swayed,
a rustic wreck in reeds reposed
their wind-song whispers I’m imposed.
There’s no escape their soldiers’ lance,
the blades of green so tall and crisp,
with waves they undulate in dance
and breezes ruffle tassels’ wisp,
though swans find beauty mid the reeds
—a wistful coward’s bitter weeds.
Susan Ashley
January 14, 2023
~ Second Place ~
Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 25
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ Poem Of The day ~
January 16, 2023
Poet’s note: this poem was inspired by, but not written for, the contest: “I Wandered Lonely As… Challenge”, sponsored by Natasha Scragg and judged on September 24, 2022. Thank you, Natasha, for the beautiful William Wordsworth quote and for the poetic inspiration.
Photo: gettyimages; Jay Fleming
The End
Seeing through these cold dead eyes now,
This world looks much different.
The scars of one’s life entire,
Appear now for all to see.
What once meant everything,
Really means nothing now.
I still see and sense things mortal,
But the earthly world can’t hear my words.
Lying on an ice-cold white slab this darkest night,
I see the pale yellow moon’s sad face in the sky.
With visions of people who’ve crossed over before,
I wonder when Charon shall finally appear?
Shall it be him who appears on this new horizon?
Or shall it be someone or something else?
The everyday mortal world moves on as before:
Regardless of one’s wealth, poverty, fame, shame, infamy.
I guess now all the ancient mysteries of the universe,
Shall become obvious and answered in kind.
I wonder what shall be said to me and the reception?
Thumbs up or thumbs down—I guess I shall find out.
The pale yellow moon now appears brighter . . .
As if a special message cometh soon from a winged angel.
Hope this helps to answer my lingering questions . . .
As the dark void from the mortal world grows greater now.
I feel a gentle tug pulling me upward now from Earth’s grasp,
Into the majestic arms of infinity and into God’s eternal light!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
June 12, 2016 (Lyric)
Snow -
a sleep
descending on the twilight streets;
Snow, in silent fields you lie pristine
beneath moon’s glow, a blanket shimmering.
Oblivion serene!
Tranquilly envelop me in
Sleep -
a snow;
the more you fall, the deeper that I go
under.
Oh, sweet Slumber,
suffocate with pearly flakes
those of us the weary that repose,
long time having waited like the windrows.
As Boreas does blow,
lull and bury all in drifting, dreamy
snow.
Written 7/11/15
'Absolutely Anything' Poetry Contest of Shreya LN
I don't need mawkish photographs to see
the drowning rowboat tethered to the dock,
a withered seahorse clinging to debris
as umber water seeps through feeble caulk.
The cord grass will have grown up through the planks
to marry splinters teeming on the pier,
putrescent pillars tilted by the banks;
a pallid corpse beside the marsh's bier.
Those summers when we sailed through brackish mist
have long since gone the way of floating sculls
that languish in the asters to be kissed
by empty oarlocks perched atop their hulls.
Your August ghost still flounders on the fen
then sinks beneath in nightmares now as then.
I have a little garden
growing on a page.
No mint, I beg your pardon.
I hope that there is sage.
It’s ideas I plant there
to see what they will do.
Each day I check to see where
some precious seedlings grew.
I feed and water them
until they’re fully grown,
but sometimes on a whim
they’ve caught a breeze and flown.
Poems are what I’m sowing
and though I’ve reached full age,
I think it’s me that’s growing
as I garden on the page.
10.22.2018
Love’s Alchemy is Eternal
Your look, touch, and scent now so perfect pure,
Enchants my true emotions and soaring passion.
I knoweth now our love shall always endure,
As God unites our souls as one by divine action!
Our sensual passion defines love’s spirit entire,
As we caress and kiss for this moment’s bliss.
Love’s alchemy maketh our spirits soar afire,
As we embrace our lips find that deepest kiss!
Our hearts beat now in a sacred tempo of love,
That reflects our real destiny, two souls as one.
This is God’s gift to us from Heaven high above,
As we wish these magic moments of eternal fun!
By Heaven, I pray our love’s alchemy forever,
And declareth my love shan’t leave you ever!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
June 27, 2016 (Shakespearean Sonnet)
Colors daubed for seasons' scenes
I sift through life for what it means
In spite of chaos, shades and flings
It comes down to the simple things
The mountain tops, the dark abyss'
Have ground my egos down to this
Of all the chance and spheres I'm of
Life's worth and essence is ... but LOVE
Indeed, I've lived big moments, too
The raptures and sweet rendezvous
Moving mountains - burning skies
Bright lilting lashes, soft lullabies
Shedding poisons like second skin
Too few dreams to wear them in
I dared the devil, danced with death
Swore for mercy's whisp'ring breath
So just when ends seemed all to be
This extra chance was proffered me
Don't take for granted or yet waste
That vigor gained from rigors faced
Don't tend concerns to end or start
It's what's between that fills a heart
True meaning - love's enduring kiss
A life's no less or more ... than THIS.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Strand Select, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 7th Place ~ in the "Favourite Poem From May, 2019" Poetry Contest, Julia Ward, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "The Meaning of Life" Poetry Contest, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judge & Sponsor.
You hang there on the rise of dawn
Bending twigs where you cling,
Glistening gems on sunlit lawn,
Where I greet you before you're gone,
Before my passions forlorn ding
While you gleam rays of spring.
How long dear will you glint and glow
Upon vibrant realm green,
My heart and I would like to know
For zephyrs of west will soon blow
To dethrone you from where you preen;
Oh! force of gale is mean.
How ardent you paint golden morn
Blushing on canvas gray;
Glinting rays my sight you adorn,
Assuaging grievous yore lovelorn
As verdant limbs gentle winds sway
Waltzing with lucent day.
Time has risen to bid goodbye,
Yet, you flinch, loath to part,
As sun paints arc in gamboge dye
When a fervent tear sparks your eye,
Heartening warmth love-vibes impart
Vowing to cure my heart.
Walking through the land of shadows
wearing my yellow shoes
With each and every step
I created color and hues
The shadows started retreating
As color permeated the ground
Out of the shadowy darkness
I heard a horrible sound
"You do not belong here
I command you to go away
You are in the land of darkness
You must listen to what I say"
I kept on moving forward
Not sure what I would see
Where was the voice coming from
I looked behind a tree
Light and color expanded
Traveling up straight to the skies
The entity that so scared me
Was right before my eyes
As my shoes banished the darkness
The entity was reduced to tears
Without the aid of shadows
He couldn't tap into my fears
I then reached down to touch him
I told him that he was safe
He looked up with confusion
As I gazed upon his face
"Are you here to destroy me?
Have you come to take me away?
There is a purpose for shadows
They create hope for brighter days."
I heard what he was saying
The shadows have their reason
In order for spring to come
We need a darker season
So I removed my yellow shoes
Watched as the shadows returned
It was time for me to go home
With this strange lesson I had learned
I am nature,
soul of a mountain,
buried under
a billion snowflakes.
I float like butterflies,
from petal to petal.
As cinereal clouds clear,
under a glistening sunrise,
I illuminate like a lustrous rainbow -
I am daylight.
I am a falling leaf,
from the tallest tree.
I am gravity,
can you feel me?
Can you hear the air you breathe?
I am oxygen.
I am the moon,
followed by a galaxy of stars,
I am the universe,
lights that sparkle at night.
I am Mona Lisa's smile,
a photograph from the past,
an unread book,
a guitar without strings,
a bird without a song,
a blank song sheet -
I am regret.
I am darkness,
a misplaced muse,
the pause between words,
the last kiss goodbye,
the distance, the hunger -
I am suppressed emotions.
You see me in blood and tears.
I have no echo.
You can only hear me,
when you care to listen.
Well hopefully you've read the last "Poetry for Poets", now here's the one I wanted to write, enjoy...
POETRY FOR POETS
(I own this- edition)
Poems
more organic than fertilizer
rooted in the **** of life
manure
Some grow wild
seeking their light
through a gnarled thicket
of images
and symbolism.
Ill watered
or sprayed with chemical defoliants
they strangle themselves,
few
managing to blossom.
Manicured
Poems thoughtfully precisely planted
to achieve optimum yield
banquet
though occasionally
poems require to be forged
beaten into shape
like a horse shoe
with a few holes
accurately placed
ensuring they will be nailed
to their purpose
Pruned
dead words and metaphors
selectively snipped away
stunning display
There are times when it’s best to live with your poetry
Cover yourself with its words until they stretch and become sloppery
For its comfort increases as the stanzas begin to fray
Patched elbows illuminating what you intend to say
And eventually you’ll have a poem to slip into by the fire
To savour with hot chocolate as it ignites your desire
Poems
more organic than fertilizer
flourish when tendered
with love
Vivid flashbacks from bloodshed battles
his soul still ravaged by devious dictators,
cries from fallen comrades still echo in his mind,
but he continues to walk upon a path of pandemonium.
Reluctantly he ventures forward with
vengeance portrayed through embers
engulfed within his frenzied eyes -
reflecting his mother's irreversible tears.
He is no mercenary nor a moneymaker,
just a repentant drifter, preparing for bedlam.
His purpose in sight, he closes his eyes,
but struggles to erase his thoughts,
as the sins of his ancestry inflict his mind.
Angels attempt to light his path with harmonic chords,
but demons cause havoc strumming broken strings.
Entering the kingdom of dry fountains,
where God has no influence,
he is afraid to inhale its corrupt pollutant air.
Charcoal clouds rumble,
before horizons shed unwelcome tears.
Before him platinum priests preach,
as court jesters dance with sly grins,
hiding metaphorical daggers behind their backs.
To his right overfull hospitals have no beds,
as penniless patients plead to be cured.
To his left the self proclaimed vain king
sits on his cardboard throne,
throwing dollars into a blazing fire place.
To his side his tyrannical hypocritical queen
hides behind her simulated smile,
oblivious to her narcissistic prince's incest desires
towards her clueless imbecilic princess.
It's an endless loop of greed cultivating corrupt seed,
which continues to breed nefarious creed.
Miserable masses attempt to break free,
but their liberation is dissected by cretinous henchmen.
In the marketplace of Machiavellian thieves,
merchant pawns auction fragmented dreams.
Sold to the biggest idiot!
His eyes full of disbelief, now rage with anarchy!
Intoxicated knights raise their half empty glasses,
as he calmly walks into this man made sand castle.
Gifts the cunning conniving cook some cyanide,
which he empties into his delectable broth.
Both watch as the elevated ones savour it like dogs,
perishing dramatically to their deserved downfall.
Beyond his childhood playground,
now with rusty swings and slides,
he places a crimson rose upon his mother's grave,
kissing her untouched headstone.
Expressionless he walks into the distance,
as storms wash away weak foundations.
Silent One
25 July 2018
There is a land where peaceful giants dwell
A magic forest, on a mountainside
Its waterfall carved out a wishing well
Where wishes ride a giant waterslide
An old stone troll bridge leads up to its crest
The pesky trolls were banished long ago
Their sandstone cottage, now a place of rest
For deer who graze on summer grass below
Its summit came for me mid-afternoon
My endless quest for treasure took me there
I stayed the night, cavorting with the moon
The sun aroused me from my lofty lair
The fortune which I found could not be spent
For who knows the price of enlightenment
by Daniel Turner