Best Metaphors Poems
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
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…
She wears her soul on her nuclear skin
Brightest chartreuse yellow
morphs into roseate pink,
promising peace
she illumes from within her
There is only one of her,
yet is never alone
her golden rays cascade
warmth in cobalt skies
embracing as she dwells alongside
touching universes both eternal,
balanced with an external expression
in both realms reflection
overlooking the gallant mountain tops
gentle undulating waves,
fullness in emptiness
amongst Spring’s delicacies
a force of nurturing generosity
fostering spirit giving endlessly
championing her cause
She watches from behind
the highest hilltops,
below the erosion formed summits
Setting onto the lowlands
and forbidding foothills
as her changing light
transforms the ether
she gazes at the unfolding
of the stars, faint specs,
she is still, in their presence
as the blue evokes
his calm, she catches glimpses
shades of salmon trail faded ones,
they bring hopeful sonnets
May she let subdued
light shine upon her
blushing rays?
Perhaps one day,
whilst the night’s indigo sky
looks after her
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 a snake
There's just more confusion in its wake
Why has this mortal life made no sound?
This brook beguiled; the lost and drowned
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 rose who's thorns are like blades.
Her pecan lips lustfully devour my heart's purple blood,
because she loves to see me bleed in musing rivers,
flowing upon shores of her poetic fibres.
On dark murky days her tears plunge like acid rain,
melting through my shiny white knight armour.
For, she is the ebony queen in my chessboard of life,
in position for 'checkmate' against an ivory king.
In my troubled mind,
the sun is like a timid yellow umbrella,
hiding behind grey ashen clouds, which in clementine hues,
appear like orange smoke polluting my toxic swollen lungs.
And I can't breathe without her sugar lips
bringing me back to life with her special scarlet kiss.
Yet, I am her willing prisoner,
even in absence and distance,
we remain eternally chained,
as spiritual word weaving lovers,
prowling and howling like wolves
wandering under the blue moon.
Number 4
it is
what it is
without narrative
isolated
moments
of figuration
sunlight
on a wall
frozen
in time
conversations
of unheard voices
stillness +
paradox
commune within
the
interplay of
imagination
in
studies
of loneliness
emblematic
silences
soundless symbolism
saturated
with suggestion
soft realism
of the inner life
gestates
cries
on canvas
forever before
our eyes
juxtaposed
drip
by
drip
into
melancholy
an empty chair
a sad stare
it is
what it is
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 in their own unique way.
In groovy swirls, the hippie spirit flies,
Beneath the neon moon and starlit skies.
With tie-dyed shirts and flowers in our hair,
We journey through a world beyond compare.
Our culture pulses with a rhythm rare,
A tapestry of love, beyond compare.
Each stroke of brush, a message to impart,
A fusion of the soul and of the heart.
Metaphors, like magic, paint pictures in the mind,
Creating illusions, where truths and fantasies entwined.
They bridge the gap between the known and unknown,
Inviting us to explore a world uniquely our own.
A metaphor is a key that unlocks hidden doors,
Revealing truths that lie beneath the surface, forevermore.
It's a mirror that reflects the soul's deepest desires,
Igniting passions and setting hearts on fire.
Like a gentle breeze that caresses our skin,
Metaphors embrace us, inviting us to dive in.
They whisper secrets, only the heart can understand,
Guiding us through the maze of life, hand in hand.
"You are the apple of my eye."
Such was my favorite among your love-lines
reverberating sincere romance-bloom
amidst tenderness' bliss
since you did well to lavish me with your care...
"You are my everything."
Such was never a flattery to me
imagining my precious value
against your other darling possessions
as you just had me as your partner since we were still young...
"My world revolves around you."
Such gave me cringe the moment I heard it
yet you had that proven along your presence
which made me comforted and at peace
every time you held me close...
Grateful am I to God* that you made me feel so loved
Until now, your love-filled messages
keep on echoing the passion of your heart
resurrecting memories of our wondrous togetherness---
---especially that I memorized your metaphors.
*1 Corinthians 1:9 God is faithful, by whom ye were called unto the fellowship of his Son Jesus Christ our Lord.
May 27, 2026
3rd place, "Language of Love" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Ink Empress; judged on 6/1/2026
Poem of the Day, May 29, 2026
Mesmerized by your chrysanthemum smile,
I drifted in bliss inside the halo
of your gladioli gaze
and as I studied the grace
of that forget-me-not face,
I memorized your metaphors
and your many luscious similies,
like the lushness of your eyelashes
that frame your wide, ebony eyes
as if they were the wisps
of delicate cirrus clouds
adrift in a crystal sky.
And so it is
your face will forever
be stenciled
on the fabric of my mind,
for you are my
ever-marvelous, magical muse.
A multitude of the hues of you
are exquisitely inked
indelibly
in my soul.
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 connotes different meanings
For different beings
It happens synonymously
Nor perceive reversely.
Love is a fairy tale
It brings someone a magic
Or leaves you in tragic
In just a glimpse or wink of an eye
You and I can't deny.
LOVE is like a wifi
If you're near
You're connected to a dear
If you're far away
You're searching for a day.
LOVE is movie
Where everyone has role to play
It's up to you if you do it that way
As long as you don't go astray
Still you know how to pray.
LOVE is like the value of x and y
If someone is missing
You need to seek unremitting
For they must go together
To fulfill their functions better.
LOVE is a flower
It blooms abundantly
When needs are given sufficiently
It adapts itself to seasons
Yet it withers at certain reasons.
Love is like an antidote
It cures something
It heals hurt feeling
It offers a therapy
Until you look happy.
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
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 stories,
Drowned in almost vivid memories.
I try to ensconce myself
In awesome poems and proses
While gripping thorny roses
Trying to fix my broken self.
Metaphors that speak euphoria,
Rhymes that sound like paranoia,
Stanzas full of painful battles
Writing frustrations with beautiful titles--
Out of melancholy or perhaps emptiness--
I locked my soul in unreal happiness.
I opted to unspoken dialogues
Where I never have second thoughts on monologues.
This is how I silently wept.
This is where my thoughts are kept.
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 bury your head in resignation,
As the atmosphere remains still,
Casting a eerie echo through your vacuumed mind,
Swaying you off balance like an hopeless being,
Then darkness spread its shadows upon your soul,
Blinding your visions of the relevance of existing.
Then you break down and like yesterday you faded away.
So were you wheeled away-
And all that surrounds you was the air of pain,
And the smell of medicine and the cruel face of the surgeon's knife makes you sad,
And you know not if your face will ever grace the light of tomorrow.
Those you loved; none by your bedside
Those you stood with by the hour,
None passed to drop you a flower.
You wobbled at life's foolery
And your face creased in fury
I think of you
Wherever this hour may bid you be,
I yearn to hold your hand-
Like a lover looking in the other's eyes
I yearn to be that vaccine
To heal you of your ailment.
Hear me as I penned-
This feeling of mine in verses
Be not scared-
As a poet shares in your plight.
Do not be worried,
Lest your mind be troubled.
Let this incandescent metaphors
Lift your spirit high
And make you heave a sigh.
You are strong,
Your heart is that of a lion.
You are an achiever,
So believe in the hands of the divine.
You are a motivator,
You bring us words of inspiration.
You are a loving father,
Your presence we all do cherish.
You are a friend,
Someone loving through the trend.
You are life-
That's why I wrote you this incandescent metaphor.
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 the applause of my style
But then
The drop
And with that, returns the fractured dreams
The fading five minutes of fame
But
Somehow through blood tinged breath
I get up
Am a survivor
If I can conquer this, I can conquer all
Through patches and clutches the spirit is stronger
Through dashes and questions the answers unwind
until another leaf blows by
Blinding the vision of many stanzas before
It's that "little" temptation like the 40 days and 40 nights
Of Jesus in the wilderness
But it's not small like the leaf
Its big like the wind driving the leaf
up and down again
Until one day, on that day
When you sit and rewind THE life
And long term memory is all you have
That it all becomes clear
All of it, even the brokenness
::
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 your universe
or your one and only
and i can take care of myself
how dare you call me
something so beautiful.
::
silly,
you can’t see the universe
in my eyes
my eyes are blue, i agree,
but they have always been
my smallest feature.
the universe
is unimaginably large;
no one has reached its end,
but you claim to have every feature of mine memorized
so you must be wrong.
and don’t forget
we cling to the earth with trust
that it will not choose
to drop us
into the endless abyss around us
and no one could fall in love with me,
for my eyes are eyes
not a universe
::
it was very late
when you said that
my lips were like a black hole
because they pulled you in
and you could never escape
but you must have forgotten
my lips are lips.
Maybe you meant my lips
affected time
like how im always late
for work.
but black holes slow time
which would be helpful
then i wouldn't be late
(so they still couldn't be black holes)
Unless you meant my lips
were infinitely big; wrong,
but i guess thats flattering.
yet, i still don’t know
how you could get lost
in my lips
like how i lose my car keys
or my phone
because you know
where your lips are
and your eyes are just fine
so you can see my lips
see? right here.
i always wear red lipstick so you can remember me,
and they are also not black.
see? now our lips are touching
and it feels nice
there are no sparks, sir,
so tone it down
with your crazy metaphors
and focus on this kiss
maybe you'll think
it’ll last forever
which would be wrong (again)
but i still love you.
::