Long Metonymy Poems
Long Metonymy Poems. Below are the most popular long Metonymy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Metonymy poems by poem length and keyword.
Here’s a twain of siblings so delicate—
The tenor and its weary vehicle,
Similar are, nor yet so disparate
O lady, art not thou so fickle?
In seeming sameness struts lady contrast,
Harmony jars to sing in unsure doubt,
Oxymoron shows a cynical pout,
Obscure ironies whilst little light cast.
Gambol ling as proxies, some sign-symbols,
Try hard to match ‘sleep, a shadow of death',
But fail to break down bulwarks of old walls,
From whereso might fount the poetic faith.
The whole hinting of part, part of the whole;
And few know O lady Metonymy,
What sets apart ye from Synecdoche,
Yet, neat-picking does rob poem her soul.
A poet’s not a spring, shocks to absorb,
Nor yet a punster he is out to shock,
A planter of paradox in vague orb,
Nor yet one, pundits often put in dock.
Beware, poets might few metaphors pick,
But zero in on befitting apt word,
The Muse at high O happens when to hick!
Ye’d better stay as art, O thou rare bird.
O ye poem, by nature art thou fickle,
Fains if forced metaphors can ever tickle,
So, lady, let my Muse, a freer hand,
E’en if she were to lead to arid land.
_______________________________________
Some critiques and academics analyse poems in the manner doctors diagnose patients— on faults that ail, focussing little on patient as a whole. ‘Life is but a walking shadow', (Macbeth). Here, ‘life' is the tenor, and ‘walking shadow' the vehicle of the metaphor. But metaphors can also be used without knowing their precise grammar and definitions. ‘Sleep as an adumbration of death', said Robert Frost, but one can use the signs and symbols without knowing them accurately. Symbolism comes natural to a good poet. The poetic devices like paradox, understatement, hyperbole, and irony can come to the poet's command without him knowing their technical names. Further, there are people fond of ‘paraphrasing' a poem. Now, this is something beyond me. Why need one do so and put a piece of verse (and a thing of beauty) unto prose, and kill it in the process?
Ode | 04.08.2008 |
Your time has come like the rising sun. Stand up for life created by God’s love as
the dove descends from above. He has a plan for you to be one with Him as He
is with you thus making you brand new. Your life should be more than just the
ordinary existence, let Him strengthen you as your soul runs the distance. Be
filled with His spirit and let your light shine. Manifest His joyful glory and
overcome obstacles in His name while unto Him you render an acclaim. Move
ahead and be the lighthouse of strength without relenting; thus ascending from
the bottomless pit into His eternal light of creation. Experience the fullness of
your destiny with God in the middle of your future. Build your foundation in His
word and spirit. Empower your soul with His tenacity; He will determine your
capacity. Be anointed by His grace and experience the reality of not just a
dream. A light lit for living liturgy. He has you covered with His Holy Spirit. Now
step out—your time has come!
Comments: A prose poem is written in prose form. It does not have line breaks
or varying topography as a regular poem. During the mid-nineteenth century,
Charles Baudelaire published Petis poemes en prose. Oscar Wilde, T.S Eliot
and others have written in this genre. The genre started in France and is now
worldwide. The use of concrete language and figurative speech such as
imagery, rhymes, personification, contrast, simile, metaphor, alliteration,
metonymy, synecdoche, abstraction and the like should be incorporated based
on the desire of the poet. The piece may focus on language, a story, or
something similar based on the choice of the poet.
Written: January 2nd, 2023, For Ink Empress Contest
Rumi verse" Sing to me in the silence of your heart and I will rise up to hear your triumphant song"
________________________________________
Life is a symphonic cynosure
a charming composition
sung in tune noisily in tandem
merriment liberates us
spread the tunes of life
a ready-made ubiquitous syntax
moon voices Jukebox heart
Iron harps croon the days
I used to walk Elvis line in his heyday.
Twilight dream orchestrator
soars on silver wings
across the eerie sea
past raven-singing islets
race the clock
swap hourglass sand
reset to our first trip,
let's foster solid walls.
Life is a bittersweet symphony.
Love, laughter,
and silent dreams
In verses, rhythm begins
Steering us via life's curveballs
a calm ballad may be feasible
dreamlike memory
dusty paths to neon-lit roadways
catching dreams, sailing
weeping as a lone harp
I'm queueing until death
to travel as a country song
via onomatopoeia syntax
a metonymy, twangy melody.
paint hope on breeze
as moonlight amid trees
or pearly umbrella stars
dancing in cosmic black sea
dark orchestra conductor
revive ancient music
until ivory beams last.
Life is a melody to be sung
play it gently as a drumbeat
life serenade in riptide
years notes strum
cosmic tapestry links us to poetry
spirits dance in unison,
life is akin to writing a song,
with our key and tone
each life has a meaning,
we pick the theme and chorus
a song bearing our name
an inclusive rhythm
life's a tune.
They were to meet in middle of the mall
He clearly misunderstood... his downfall
If there had been some writing on the wall
This fight might not have happened at all
Unsure of what to wear or where to look
It's important to give more than he took
He seemed caught like a fish on a hook
His life story could be a comic book
He remembered everything that he could
Wanting to make amends for this, he would
Deep in his heart of hearts he knew he should
Would giving her the moon do any good?
Not his best day, if you know what I mean
Not a first mistake or last to be seen
Clearly, he committed to coming clean
He secretly wished to be somewhere serene
August 22, 2018
Litany of Poetic Devices
By Line Gauthier
1. Consonance;
2. Oxymoron;
3. Truism;
4. Internal Rhyme;
5. Homophones;
6. Idiom;
7. Simile;
8. Metaphor;
9. Tautology;
10. Hyperbaton;
11. Metonymy;
12. Rhetoric Question;
13. Innuendo;
14. Aphorism;
15. Alliteration;
16. Euphony
My heart is an ebon swallowed night where nobody ever goes,
raging in a recondite rift like ripples resounding in rueful repose.
Should I release my woe with unfathomable thoughts of grief?
I may become as strong as a tiger or just a lonely picture motif.
Last week I walked a weak and coarse course of my lowest low,
wishing to borrow a new 'morrow devoid of comfortless sorrow.
I attest I'm depressed dreading everyday, I honestly confess.
Does every grey cloud have a silver lining or shadows of distress?
O, hear my plea! I’m drowning in dream of disdain and insanity!
This minute is not minute; I’m in a dark reverie of a flowing reverie.
The soothing days of assuage which used to be my saving grace
reminds me of how I’m living dead in deafening silence of misplace.
I asked for a helping hand where all warm hands would be on deck.
Perpetually forsaken, if you know what mean, just a dolour wreck.
Exhaustion was pressing upon and overpowering poor inferior me,
my heart has skipped a beat divided between joy and intense misery.
For I am but a solidary woman, methinks; I shall never be cured.
I must learn to live with this agony, or die an early death obscured.
I’m stuck in a prison pen on constant guard with solitude’s disease,
craving the day when I find appeased atonement that bestows ease…
In order I used these poetic devices:
1.) Metaphor 2.) Alliteration 3.) Rhetorical Question 4.) Simile
5.) Homophone 6.) Internal Rhyme 7.) Assonance 8.) Aphorism
9.) Dissonance 10.) Homograph 11.) Euphony 12.) Oxymoron
13.) Synecdoche 14.) Innuendo 15.) Ambiguity 16.) Personification
17.) Archaism 18.) Antithesis 19.) Metonymy 20.) Ellipsis
A Litany of Poetic Devices Poetry Contest
Line Gauthier
September 9, 2018
My muse did her fealty recuse
My honor she did stealthily reconnoiter
My discourse was grounds for divorce
Finding my writing no longer enlightening
My blithe parlance no longer my mistress did entrance
With my prose she did forthrightly dispose
Each short she did subsequently abort
Each regaling verse did prudently disburse
Each perforated line truncated with lackluster shine
Each conjured sentence only increased my penance
Each glamorous byline she did smugly decline
Each dilated phrase with a bridling border did encase
Each gilded stanza a burnished extravaganza yielding no artful bonanza
Each tethered word coagulated into a stolid curd
Each bloated quote sunk my creative float deeper in the moat
Each lofty rhyme labeled too smarmy and sublime
My metric time no longer struck a concordant chime
Each literary device neatly spliced would not even a novice entice
Each repetitive, stagnant metaphor made my verse a bore
Each strained, tortured simile engendered no empathy
Each supplanted metonymy a shock wave lobotomy
Democracy is a hoax
And it was meant to be
As it is, a set of sad jokes
A cheerful old trickery
You are offered to favour one
From the faces chosen not by you
The work is already done
It’s preset, in case you won’t do
So it’s always a meritocracy
No demos reserved, but elite
Travestied as democracy
Telling you what you need
It’s a master and slave metonymy
As it was, but the good news is
The elite can’t stand mind autonomy
Much more than in previous years
That’s encouraging, cause it seems
The democracy plot gets worn out
Age reveals those repressive schemes
I could easily live without
1. Always aspiring to authentic answers
2. Belief begins, only to end
3. Calls the crow, 'never, to'
4. Drifting like October leaves
5. Falling upwards, death is alive
6. Gargling, bleating, cawing birth
7. Haul the young into the hall
8. Jaded cribs reluctantly nurse
9. Lemon-sour hope gently sweetened
10. May's pastel caress heals yesterday's recall
11. Once, seasons ... now regrown faith
12. Promises to breach, ideas to rebuild
13. Returning the world not unreal, the
14. White Witch of Amherst guiding through
15. Young hearts revive again.
for A Litany of Poetry Devices contest
1. alliteration 2. internal rhyme 3. allusion 4. simile 5. oxymoron 6. onomatopoeia 7. homphone 8. personification 9. metaphor 10. assonance 11. ellipsis 12. antithesis 13. litote 14. metonymy 15. synecdoche
also written in ABC form.
1 Would you say that you’d like to write better?
2 Keep writing whether book or love letter.
3 Great writers don’t quit, they write quite a lot.
4 If tempted to stop they simply did not
5 The best of the best, I’d even dare say,
6 Wrote not a few that they just threw away.
7 When eyes of blank pages stare up at you
8 “Quitting makes perfect,” has never been true-
9 ly the more that you practice you’ll find
10 forsooth erelong you shall broaden your mind.
11 The pen is a sword of limitless might;
12 If something is wrong, words can make it write.
13 Words are like arrows that target the soul.
14 They twang, zip, then thump when shot with control;
15 Untrained words injure and never strike true.
16 So religiously write, routinely review
17 For words are the lamp, through darkness lighting.
18 So always, forever just keep right on writing.
8.28.18
Contest: A Litany of Poetic Devices
Sponsors Line Gauthier
Literary Devices by line:
1. rhetorical question
2. internal rhyme
3. consonance (t)
4. inversion
5. parallelism (and superlative)
6. litote
7. personification
8. antithesis
9. enjambment
10. archaism
11. metonymy and metaphor
12. pun (homonym)
13. simile
14. onomatopoeia
15. dissonance (via harsh consonants and uneven vowels)
16. alliteration
17. hyperbaton and metaphor
18. pleonasm
HURT HIM TO SAVE HIM
Secret tip
nations keep
lies deep
than relationship.
Lips zip,
wise plot,
tough gut
but...
fear not,
I KNOW,
though
red hot
dark pot
like your
man hunt
till your
man's hurt.
If he know
let him go.
"A penny
or shreddy
info is
worth lives",
they thought.
Watch alot
then deploy
and enjoy
word economy
like metonymy.
'cos enemy?
Eyes everywhere,
wall's ear,
See out here
the C.I.A
all day
mastermind,
search and
unfailingly find.
With eyes?
A device!
You must
disconnect
to later
connect;
It's better!
Good enough.
Hurt ur love
to save him,
not save him
to hurt him
else they'll
get him
at will.
VickWizzy.
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}.
Copyright © May 14th, 2020.