Love Extended Metaphor Poems

CHOICES

       

I chose to be like the air 
because it allowed me 
Be like the wind, 
And fly! 
I

We Drink Ambrosia - Fugue

 
we drink ambrosia from goblets within our Hearts
browline meets browline you drink your own 
which dripped into mine hush hush the surfer 
and soldier

Home

She say she wants to go home with me tonight as we sit by the bus park,
but I tell her we can make home right

CRAFTWORK OF LIFE

    

Hands that perform tasks,
creative exercise of creating...

Feet that walk firmly
in the fruitful movement of walking...

Rain that falls generously
in the blessed gift

The Tutu and the Gown: A Fairy's Dilemma

Roaming in the corridor,
The fairy chuckled,
Mesmerized by the beauty of her own dress,
She grew self-assured in her little fairy school.

The multi-colored tutu,
inlaid with wild flowers;
Rivaled

SEEDS OF WISDOM

The seed of freedom is curtailed,
germinates interrupted,
the harvest is delayed...

The fruit of freedom
may take time to be harvested,
but it is worth every stoic sacrifice...

We cultivate

El Mismo Abismo Destructivo Bolso

Pálida, quedará la Luna 
por tú decepción.
Pero alumbrara aún 
está y las mil
noches que vengan.
Se filtrara por la persiana 
de la alcoba.

El árbol, copozo de
mango

It Sounded Like You Were Trying To Evict The Words From Their Home On Your Tongue

I have been watering it for months—
the small black bulb in the cupboard
that I never let touch sunlight.
It swelled in the dark,
fed on steam from

poem number 4 from poetica ads

Either I've Seen You Or I Want To, How Could I Be Mad At That?

The horizon is a blade—
it glints whether I run toward it
or watch it withdraw.
Each dawn splits me open,
spilling a slow trickle of salt,
as if the

Soft cut

Limerence pools,
at the lip of skin.
Bleeding like I love ;
slow,
hard,
full of regret.

My Admiration For A Hand-Woven Tapestry

Each thread hums —
drawn by patient hands,
dyed in storms and thaw.

The base is pale as morning frost,
fibers holding winter’s quiet breath.
Across it, ribbons of shifting

OF FOOD AND WARRING: A TANKA QUINTET

OF FOOD AND WARRING
(A TANKA QUIENTET)

Juxtaposed bombs fall…
Food’s down, starvation rising…
Death…collateral…
Thus, war’s new reaping of death:
Food uprooted and destroyed:-

Food’s an enemy,
Seeking to eat, deadly:
Starvation killing:-
Thus,

I'M ALSO A SONG

I’m Also A Song

Hey…
I’m also a song
And I’m not afraid
To sing my own tune
But don’t 
Think me 
Arrogant 
Or selfish
You too
Are a song
To be sung
But

TO BASKING ON THE SHORES OF MY POETIC SEABED

TO BASKING ON THE SHORES OF MY POETIC SEABED

Lying here on the shores of the seabed of poetic creation,
May this flow of waving words stream