Best Personifications Poems
i am here to let your words make love to me
i am here to bury my face deep in your poetry
to let your haiku
molest my naked body
shake me like a tree
can you read the want in my hips
for your metaphors and similes?
like an African lion in heat i long your letters
how they hug tightly only to entice my desire.
the child in me wants to explore, journey tender the skin
you wear. so don't leave me to play alone in the sandbox.
let me run the body of your work free.
ingest your verse and also grow wings.
you and i flying as one in a mad fancy.
then maybe send in my bed sheets - both single
with your personifications they'll jump rope
and after exercising go for a cup of hope
at the outdoor cafe where poets mingle
i am only here because your couplets are wooing me.
i want to glide - baby oil - body on body - chummy.
not compete but instead
massage your triolets,
fraternize with your sonnets.
your tanka rocks me
mountains baby smooth to climb
it's quite the challenge
one i'm willing to take on
you're the baby smooth i want
i'll ride your majestic rhymes
dream they'll settle for,
this my smiling core,
stay with me at bedtimes.
you - the poetess that defines my nights
i want you to know i climb every evening
towards the peak where your words spike.
i'll never be the poet you are, but
i have my hands and other parts
that could drive you to ecstasy.
.........you'll see it's my specialty.
01~01~2015
Armand
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Contest Name: First poem of 2015
I was submerged in
an ocean
of rants,
hiding the sparkles
of my
poetic
planktons.
My meaningless
phrases
that meant
everything,
but
nothing and anything
at the same time.
Yet I found
mermaid melodies
from idyllic waves,
placed
with love
in my heart,
by a
mystical angel
worlds apart,
that felt like home
in so many forms,
when bitter reality
was
crashing
and
thrashing,
my bones with no
mercy or empathy.
Although twin flames
reignited
lost romance,
against every tide of
redolent rhymes
and measured meters,
as couplets destined
to be sweethearts.
In a world
of untold
words
and expressions,
we scribbled
sensual senryu,
and silver sonnets,
along lilac lines
of lavender shadows
where ebony fingers
intertwined to devise,
cryptic potions of
pearlescent personifications,
and
harlequin haiku
as well as
ethereal etherees,
where hourglass nonets
bleed
amethyst alliterations,
forever composing
floral choruses
whilst healing through
free verse
with strawberry musings,
on a sandbank
where islanders
rendered
ravishing runes,
dripping on
chocolate reveries,
about soulmates
that sheltered their
love in
an
oyster
shell.
Poets at Play
I played with words today –
They called to me
“Come out and play with us!”
Childhood companions
Building rhythms like treehouse forts –
Playhouses of analogy -
Crafting rhymes that follow the leader
Into mud pie irony;
Playing peek-a-boo with synonyms,
Hide and seek with inspiration;
Coming out of hiding places in stanzas
Stacked like pick up sticks;
Patty cake in anagrams –
"A tacky pest" like little brothers –
Jumping out, to yell “Surprise!”
In the “punniest” personifications;
Slide down the metaphoric slide
To allegories of apple trees;
Swing back and forth with double entendre - sky high in the sky;
Hang upside down from “jungle-gyms” whistling alliteration
Hop scotch acrostics
March in meter to rock, paper, scissors -
Wondering what to wear and where I Spy anagrams;
Building up London Bridge, falling down in metrics,
To stand like statues of frozen tag
With your friend assonance
Taking sides like antonyms in games so like red rover
Chasing similes with smiles, to kick the can down the road,
Duck and run in duck, duck goose;
Measure feet in a leap frog of a blind man’s bluff;
Time to come in – come in free verse for the day,
Simon says now writing right just as fun
As a cat’s cradle at the end of my word play.
4/7/20
A poetic community has many ingredients
Tablespoons of metaphors with Alliteration spice
A dash of Haiku makes things nice
Pour in some sonnets into a bowl
Mix in romance to make it whole
Add a sprig of thyme to the rhyme
Sprinkle in some free verse to make it sublime
Stir in some Limericks into the pot
A cup of Triolets will hit the spot
Savor the flavor as you sample the soup
As Personifications waft through the air
Prepare a Pantoum and add to the group
Add a cup of imagery to give it some flair
6-9-2024
through the duration of time to think sublime
heroes are made through like hellos
the wrestling with the window
one to embark on its solstace
throughout the duration of time so fine
with love to climb upon
long lines formed in desolation
burst inside with appreciation
live long & prosper
keep your mind in heavenlies
illusively through a dream
meadows are plain in view
horizons of beautiful personifications
each door we close there's always one opened
search your heart to help impart the meaning
believe in hope
so far to cope
down to your last thin rope
love has hope we can share
let's look above to the heavenly love
sare with others a brand new you
Anyone can write…
and drown in their self-delusions;
from persons into personifications
lists of passions, glorify self's illusions;
down those lists,
most veiled by incomprehension
one's passion is most often expressed
as the byproduct,
of misconstrued personal emotions;
therefore, in these briefs that follow
rest some seeds for those
whose mental fields lay perpetually fallow…
Xenocrates, his gods being unity and duality
i.e. episteme, aisthesis, and doxa
are lost to US,
by rue of epistemonike aisthesis;
Mersenne's numbers,
to Eratosthenes' sieve
Erd?os' factorization,
and Archimedes' constant conceived;
Holy vowels expressions!
Great Gobs of Goose shite, please!
release US from this context,
relieve this tumultuous tease;
probe Bertrand's Postulate,
exposing your thinking's
prime numbers seized;
however shallow, and wordless
your tongue tied thoughts do concede…
so many things are above me,
so many more lay beneath
my scratching, itching, and twitching
these are reminders of my simpleton's grief…
in this fiat before me
on these issues held, and in my beliefs
that my mind is much more
than the street corner tavern's
proverbial hat rack…
now that's a relief!
What is it within US?
that sullen darkness and introversion hides
those snide daily reminders
the eclipse of the sun
and or a debutante's swoon
a cheap parlour tricks wonder
or that pin-striped baboon's face
we each express as we howl at the moon…
Excuse me this meandering
but, it is my gut busting chortle
you now so surely conceive
that this little snippet from our dear William
does so help you believe
that we all live this one time
so as ourselves, do profoundly achieve
what your inquisitive conscience
exposes as your life's
most constant semibreve…
['Think of this life; but, for my single self,
I had as lief not be as live to be
In awe, of such a thing, as I myself.']
in conclusion of
this bit of confusion
do infuse this allusion
as your daily transfusion
of the smack of illusion
and the sole, blithe, transformational revolution
now necessary for your mindset's
ever changing and ongoing mental de-evolution.
Quantum mechanics proves that we can be put back to,
Particles, atoms, matter and gas by physical reactions,
But such indeterminism was fought by C S Lewis boldly,
Who used capitals mid-sentence for personifications.
He wanted to personify morality and the virtues,
So said Right and Justice to detach the judge,
From the justice, from the boyfriend or the neighbour,
So that from Hawking we would in some way budge.
But libertarianism contravenes philosophical necessarianism,
By forwarding that we all have alternative possible actions.
Says we’re not predetermined by prior events and engagements,
Through a divine agent that coalesces and notions,
That truth is out there is a fact, out with our command,
But truth is real, essentially original, humanly discovered;
A god cannot call it or claim its curvature or inception,
Because an agent would make our interpretation blurred.
Truth is not solely objective, bestowed supernaturally,
But is a human relativity which we believe, tell or embody;
We all have our own being which can reap desolation,
Or liberation, if we choose to personify it for somebody.
"What does light have to do with darkness!?...."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Like mixing champagne miscreants
Within a simile laced frosted glass
Of crystalline stones mingling these
Crowned guises....
Fatidities of peremptory phantasms
Oracular silhouettes of the predisposed?!
Rising in unison unto a collective toast
Toward deceptives destiny; their very own
Whisperings billowing within ceramic tones....
These phantoms of the Pharoahs final call
Unto finalities masquerading opera
Respondez, s'il vous plait!?
Where on a blackened tie adorns this omnibus
The guest of honour with such, hollowed eyes
Smiling, as pressage greets them all....
Raising this metaphoric flume; a symbolic vessel
To these midnight mass miscreants of soporifics
Fatiditized oraculary made realities; fasicles
Standing before phelonians robes of fallacy?!
While as fantasias final chords begin their
Beckoning from afar; this preemptive echoing
Personifications, blood red rose....
Calling, afore this latter days gatherings of
Soon to be forevers, predisposed; ex parte
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....The final toast!?
Note: ~ A resurrecting moment from Halloween 2008....
~ "'Love' & Warmth, Always," John!:) ~ "Hebrews 12."
Smile ~ "Its 'A Beautiful Day,' So Don't Let It Get
Away!?":) ~
As you wait
for a turn of fate
to get things
rolling again
You pass the time
listening to music
while pondering
transformations solidified
into transparent discrepancies
relinquished by distinguished
personifications that are truly amazing.
You drift through
happy circumferences
as you smile,
gaze into the distance
of truthful overtones
that are resurrected
with the ease
of a twist of justifications
dampening your quest.
I draw daydreams devoid of grammar.
Jumble memories with synonyms.
Cook laughter with adjectives.
Flirt with rhymings.
Drool over oxymorons.
My masterpiece is not just another
crushed paper.
Or left stale at the back of a
hotel bill.
Or a long text message
killed slowly
with backspace.
It is not just another word document
punctured with punctuations,
pathetically clutching the clauses,
with wasted verbs,
privileged by pronouns.
It is a canvas hidden with puzzles,
masking the festering wounds,
concealing a story
written in haste and hurry.
Its my medicine that I can't take
for the disease I can't fake.
Ma says I'm a dreamer.
I smile slyly.
She never know I wrote things for her.
How her fingertips rubbing my scalp,
Stifling my hair
brings calm to my storms.
How her laughter to my lamest jokes
brings rainbow to my colorblind eyes!
They say, writers are over thinkers
who weaves drama
connecting sunsets and deaths.
I say YES!
My naked words
quivered with shame
facing your pointy fingers.
So I dressed them with strike offs,
replacing them with meticulous metaphors.
They were as genuine as my freckles.
Also as shy as my face.
Maybe, that's why I covered them
with my hair of laced lies and butterflies.
So never tell a writer
that her poems are plain!
she's not an upset stomach
that throws up thesaurus.
Never suggest a writer
a new Instagram infected writing style!
She'll take it.
And while you smile
She'll break it.
A writer dance for the tune of phonetics.
Plan a night out with personifications
and never think twice to
break up with your judgements
building up a tall wall of ignorance
which lets in only the legit critics.
A writer stitches gore with similes,
Iron it with ironies,
Wears it with the pretense
of happiness.
But when you say -
"It is beautiful"
and walk away,
You killed her with the blunt blade of cliché!
for I exist as a vapor
then I am no more
tranquility with whispers
inside the corridor
instant gratification to some
wonderful personifications
we exist as nomadic herdsmen
drifting away in the desert
Jesus was a sailor when he
set forth on the water
called out to Peter to meet him further
in every circumstance
we shall learn
to take part in the dance
nothing comes by chance
walk with me come take with me
one hand to hold a heart will bleed
many running to & fro
hearts exposed through the duration of time
signs on the wall want you to be sure
not everything is pure
we bask in the vast expanse
between that of space & time
with perilous times ahead
the thought of the walking dead
hiding behind the false garb of compromise
can't we see through those Satanic lies
see more joy from that of a girl and boy
everyone got the latest gadget and toy
news of the street going to start a beat
Drake is going to sing again then Big Pun
a new day has just begun as
Scotty Piipen has long sense been retired
Eminem doing free style taking it to the extreme
Fetty Wap burning up the scene
yet I see more joy in lovers on the beach
trying to catch that frisbee so far out of reach
with a blink of an eye time passes you by
some call it fate with a new Rolex in hand
the factory worker has left unspoken
Trump has left his ivory tower with just a token
billboards post of the latest news
two hundred dollar pair of shoes
satin sheets and love so devine
J. Lo looking nice with her new behind
Beyounce & Jay Z
life can be a big mystery
coming apart at the seams
love is the essence of my existence
learn to shun the resistance
out of every circumstance learn to
take part in the dance
with fly by shootings out in the street
try to greet your neighbor that's so out of reach
out of the vials of the pit of my soul
one may evoke fear or that which hurts you the most
I had fallen asleep after a bitter long day
hadn't had the time to bow the knee to pray
I awoke to a vast land with caverns & blackened stench
in the center of the excursion sat an equestrian horse
filtered through my mind a sparkling array of blissful care
once again a demonic force had sunken its fangs in my flesh
darkened portals of liquefied personifications
viscous fangs that bite dripping blood off side
I melted inside once again starring into a vast curtain of extreme
still I had my mind fixed on the equestrian horse wondering why ?
fires of smoke enveloped my fragile egg shelled frame
not getting back to the present world was driving me insane
smoldering duration of piercing eyes watching & gazing
Satan laughing spreads his wings
still the horse what could I do ?
have I bitten off far more then I could chew
eyes with spots having tombstones in their brain
smoldering heat needing to quench my thirst but nothing their
suddenly right before my eyes it appeared the equestrian horse
I got to really see the deep colors of red, black & grey
lifeless embodied structure that brought back youthful sentiments
Sadly I immediately awoke to the sound of a crow
I will forever treasure the memory of my dream
a challenge to be free is a quest of time
sublime, eyes, hands & face
a cause of triumphant discovery from another dimension in time
we met at a dance from the back of the auditorium alone you were there
caressed your hand with my glove as a maiden flower that you were
crisp clear day until the rain came then she was beside herself
engulfed from the tender memories of when she was but a little child
honey bees with the melting of the blowing of the breeze hearts next to me
she grew sad now that the rain came down with her velvet eyes crying with tears of remorse
hopless said she in her land of make believe filled up her dreams
life is but a mystery draped across the tapestry of sullen apathy
a challenge to be free was a question of time she yawned in disbelief
now filled with sorrow se could help but feel sorrow then the tears flowed again lest i refrain
simple pleasure with simpler times with a plate of chesse a some store bought wine
billows fell beneath the squeeky wheel exposed to the very mere notion of laughter
tears became a mountain filled with pillows of desolation thoughts of her jewelry box
a wooden drawer with socks amids the moth balls for this humble no it all
she is gone now in passing she sometimes comes to me in a dream with beautiful flowers
sweet perfumed personifications laced with white ivory emblems to taunt
then I awake to nothingness keeps me in great suspense until now that I'm old
let the truth be told of decorations in the parlor with grey cat sitting on a wooven mat
for I remember the place and will remember the time I held her in my arms to embrace
Now shallow peaks align the ridge where I treasured a red rose that was plucked a time ago
nestled bellow near the cobblestone a wooden structure with a broken hand let the reader understand...
thoughts of pop rocks with loli pops filter through my fragile egg shelled mind I'm going blind
ave a sip of coffee and give my foot a push,
Remembering simpler times with crazy door bell chimes with nursey rhymes
it has become customary for me to stare at the barren wall with long ago bullet holes to enhance my imaginative thought pattern
braided hair she used to wear with a touch of blush for make up when she was in a rush
yet now I awake to what ?
"What does light have to do with darkness?...."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Like mixing champagne of miscreants
Within a metaphoric glass
Of crystalline stones....
Mingling amid these guises
Fatidities of peremptory phantasms
Oracular silhouettes of the predisposed
Rising in unison unto a toast
Toward the destiny of their very own....
Whisperings billowing within their glasses
These phantoms of the Pharaohs final call
Unto finalities masquerading opera
Where on a blackened tie, adorns
The guest of honor; hollowed eyes
Smiling, as he greets them all
Raising his metaphoric glass
To these miscreants, of crystallized stone
Fatidities oracularly made realities
Standing before phelonions robes of fallacy
Fantasias final chords....
Personifications, blood red rose
Playing, now, before the final gathering
Of eternities silhouettes, forever, predisposed!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...............The final toast...............
With the growing population
elsewhere in the world,
humanity embraces challenges
across cultures and mindsets
transparency gets into them.
Manifold experiences
in a variety of settings
schools of thought emerge
in view of opinion and comprehension.
They’re meaningful;
indeed, a dialogue of cultures.
like Jesus in the gospel who
says, “I am the gate for the sheep . . . .
I am the gate.”
His teachings in parables,
metaphors or personifications
are meant to bring
his disciples to understand well
about his mission and
his kingdom altogether.
It’s the best way to experience
the flesh and blood
of being a migrant;
welcomed and rejected
in various situations.
Lessons about hospitality
or migration in continuity
enable one to see beyond
in the context of pluriformity.
Human thoughts and reflections
generate the concept of open doors
where everyone comes
and goes with conviction –
to be Christ-like to others
and mindful of their needs and aspirations