Best Metaphors Poems

I. The Hour of Approach

The poem I was writing refused to end—  
it kept writing me.  
Blood didn't ink these lines—  
the ink bled me.  
Each stanza a hidden-hematoma  
across the white of nothingness.

Somewhere, midnight faltered,  
and I was...

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I
dreamt of
a poem
forgot the words
As beneath the salty cold brine of tears
silence floats, whilst I’m coloring kohl rain
in metaphors
of regret
across
blood
red
ruby 
carnations
that bleed silken
sonnets for an ocean-dipped catharsis
...

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misplaced in moonlight
my muse lay mute and inkless~
venting in darkness
like mourning mists crawling through
sleepless stars before sunrise

but between silence
and twisted tunes of twilight
I found silver runes
carved with mismatched metaphors~
healing hymns amidst blurred lines… ...

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It's still flowing, never stopping to change direction 
Cuts are made without sharpening, perfection;
Behold the pain; beholden, the bastard
This river's banks, always see the last word
The stream of water that only the ravens tend;
Panning for painful metaphors; to no end
Flowing; with all the liquidity of...

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When words like seeds remain uncultivated,
in somber silence the poet within me dies.
In the misery of my perishing poetic oasis,
petal like poems refuse to infuse idealistic pigments.
But without words, a midnight beast lurks in thoughts
hidden behind metaphors written in psychedelic ink.

My beloved is a black...

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it is 
    what it is
without narrative
isolated
    moments
       of figuration
sunlight 
        on a wall
frozen 
        in time

conversations
  ...

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Quote: “To fathom hell, or soar angelic, just take a pinch of psychedelic” -- H. Osmond 

In the realm of metaphors, where words take flight, 
A kaleidoscope of colors, a psychedelic delight. 
Like whispers of dreams, they dance and sway, 
Unveiling the depths of emotions...

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LOVE is like a figure of speech
It adds beauty to life
It inspires us to beat strife
It gives colors to sight
It expresses feelings tight.

LOVE is a rainbow 
It has its perfect timing
To beautify your surrounding 
It appears unexpectedly
Yet disappears  inevitably. 

LOVE is like a dictionary
It...

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Sunset sky was like a fiery red flame
wistful touch on her hair with a sigh
Warm, sweet smell of cinnamon apple pie
A rose in my safe caress. Butterfly
heavenly feelings as cupid took aim

© 6/22/2015




Contest Name: Five Lines/ Metaphors And Simile 
Sponsor: Sara Kendrick
Envelope Quintet
10 syllables a,b,b,b,a...

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Here I am-- again
Grabbing my pen, scribbling my pain
Into bleeding and excruciating words
That might end up killing me.
Damn, I need to let this out! 
I need to release all the dramas and doubt. 
My pen cries of simile again
Fighting considerately  in vain, 
Creating make-believe...

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::
i’ve always wondered about the phrase “my world”
what gives you the right
to claim that i am something
so strong
so defiant
it is not your world,
the world belongs to us all
and we have to take care of it
but more importantly,
i belong to myself,
so i am not your world
or...

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This Is where I come and drop all my brokenness
This is where I drive on the highway of danger
As I approach life headstrong
I the experienced
I, I don't take that .... anymore
I the bull rider, high up there tightly strapped
Tasting the dust of my achievements
Rising to...

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Summer boulder-boots wear my thoughts
Thoughts warmed by winter coat maligned in poison oak
With an indelicate left-breast
Pocket inscription stating the obvious
 “Boys Don’t Cry” 
(Simply put and rich in depth, obviously) 
All together, together all.  
All together one we go
Neurotically traipsing unreceptive asphalt

Summer boulder-boots wear...

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When cries do echo the walls of the ward,
Bringing you down on your knees with the pangs of emotions,
Watching tears trickling down your eyes,
Shaking the core of your very being,
As you watch the time tick away-
And every bit of joy seems to fade away.

So you...

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I.

In the beginning was the Single Stroke Roll—
left-right, left-right, the primordial heartbeat
of existence itself, each alternation a binary choice
between being and non-being, the eternal paradiddle
of consciousness striking against the drumhead of reality.

Listen: the Buzz Roll of morning traffic—
ten thousand souls creating multiple bounces
against the stretched...

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