A Memory
A crimson tulip, soft and bright,
Unfurls to greet the morning light,
A fragrant kiss from the soft breeze,
But dawn's sweet beauty can't be seized
For soon its petals gently fall,
A memory pitched on the wall.
Only within nakedness
we can find
pure light.
Spring becomes tender
Poetically laughs and cries
with the first fruits of arrival
with the finality of departure...
Your body, with pleasure
like a flower opens into petals
when I skillfully touch you...
This simple life of ours,
in grandeur, does indeed blossom,
when we weave ourselves in nobility...
To truly love is:
to provide attentive ears,
to offer obliging arms...!
Life always becomes art,
canvas, palette, action...
in the mystery of creation!
Wine can be:
oily, full-bodied, fruity...
sine qua non; good grape, good wine!
Ending Overtime And Moving On
Desperately
trying
to
throw
us
off
guard
yelled
out
to
us
that
the
ball
was
in
court:-
Let’s
ever
be
mindful
that
here
on
the
battlefloor
of
the
lord
foot
stomping
this
shadowed
valley
we
need
to
fastbreak
and
slamdunk
liberty
as
we
rebound
and
bench
Its
oppressors
as
we
end
overtime
and
move
on
to
justice:-
gone was the meek/downtrodden servant/girl
a woman stood in her place: cunning/ruthless
elegance concealed breasts more savage than any princess
ancillary fairy godmother's guidance
Cinderella manipulated/eliminated any rivals
path through fabled tales covered in viscera
meandering jars with lifeblood
she felt a surge:
pride/power/dangerous
each drop represented victory
no longer a mere dam(e)
steadfastly
eyes were bedroom shut conversation
earth had inhaled tenebrism
bending itself to her will
undead battalion advanced
gait erratically photo shopped
yet, propelled forward
unwavering fealty to their mistress of the manor
OF RED RIVER AGONY
In this river,
Only crocodiles can be;
Alligators, no!
This is not only nasty,
It is red reality:-
The river’s bordering banks,
Are as red steaming lava:-
But let us not be dismayed,
There is that other river;
The rain-bowed river of God—
Banked by the soil of oneness:
Let us cross over:-
Artist Versus Entertainers
Philosophically well educated
Obfuscation methods in placement
Evolution from their predecessors
Thought induction with language
Interpretation may vary
Subjective and misinterpretation
Hopeful to make changes
Unleashing words as weapons
Mental landscape vivisection
Anomaly amongst the lilies
Nature appointed tether
Ideological meaning hidden
Thunder before the rain
Yugen laced Ya'aburnee
'Time' and 'Death' are the only axioms.
Things you cannot manipulate.
Together, they eventually destroy everything.
Then, breathe life into the ashes.
Forgotten concepts, even gods who don't bleed.
I smile in Annihilation's face.
Life is an abattoir hymnal written as a Jisei.
A poem that always ends with a question/mark.
The mortician finishes your storyline, not you.
Punctuation through confrontation with both.
My job is important, I bring closure.
And I create monsters to negate certain fates.
How dare society treat me like a freak...
Every single time I ask for coffin options...
Each time I ask for lipstick preference...
Everyone reacts how you'd expect...
Now, ask yourselves, why do I write splatterpunk?
Modernland has legalized murder, they roll these streets
Billyclubs in tow, those weak are taped and tortured
Throw'em a gun and a bullet grinning through glass
As those who suffer pull the trigger, bang
Darkness isn't evil, the real monsters are people
Art is rebellion, they want Armageddon, life isn't Christmas
They decide who gets presents, I'm number one
On the naughty list, then, some call it divine intervention
Others say entertainment, I say sacrilege to the manes
THIRSTY PEACE WALLOWING
In life’s wet streamings–
Sweat, tears, and painful peeing–
Peace wallows in thirst:-
Today’s warring wet waters,
Quenching greed’s evil thirstings:-
In a given context, when we isolate a situation from a viewpoint where we're standing, that we hold ourselves open to the possibility that there is a good beyond the good that we can perceive with our limited understanding.
RETHINKING FOUCAULT
Just as a verse comes from verses,
a song comes from songs...
Text comes from texts,
Everything comes from the whole,
nothing is just an extract
of what already exists and has...
Everything is in place... and just copy and paste...
Of course, transforming, assembling
the story to taste...
But the new fact doesn't exist
nothing exists new...
But there is knowledge,
the innate talent!
Archimedes, renowned scientist
exclaimed his Eureka!
upon finding the "solution"
to a complex proof,
in a general field or mathematics...
Later, in a less long-lived stage,
well before the calends
Shakespeare, the theatrical wizard,
confirmed this missing piece for us!
A non-blatant copy of the plagiarism
perpetrated disguised by
his abysmal talent...
Nothing is created, everything is copied
nothing new and so new
the genuine is old, ancient
everything comes from the one!
... ALEA JACTA EST
ready! AND DONE "
Nebula to Eye
Where stars weave though velvet sky
Is born a limpid nebula to eye.
.
wool
twill weave
cardiganz
harem pants
boots
hoodiez
aran coats
dents
Mind's minute mirage may muffle,
But biding by blinding brings burns.
Severely she'll sunder, so scuffle,
'Til tomorrow, tomorrow turns.
Specific Types of Extended Metaphor Poems
Read wonderful extended metaphor poetry on the following sub-topics:
animal, family, friends, football, kids, lion, love, loneliness, moon, nature, yourself
and more.
Definition | What is Extended Metaphor in Poetry?
Poems Related to Extended Metaphor
symbol, image, analogy, similitude, emblem, personification, allegory, hope, metonymy, trope,