Holiday Metaphor Poems | Examples
These Holiday Metaphor poems are examples of Metaphor poems about Holiday. These are the best examples of Metaphor Holiday poems written by international poets.
Rest and celebrate
Protecting my mental health
Decorative lights
A hot day and a smelter
Is it in Qatar, or in Dubai a friendly aluminum
smelter for sale, the one in the picture on a TV add
looks ok
Now that my wife is on holiday with her aunt I cruse
on the TV, but this is the first time I have come across
a smelter of aluminum
I buy food at the deli and warm it at home, taste
remarkable like my wife's cooking, not that I have seen
her peeled potatoes.
She hollers, come and get it and slams the cooking
lids together
I have had many cars, old ones, mainly because
I can't afford the taxi fare, I have no money to
buy a new car.
Aluminum smelter!
Wouldn't that be amazing?
I met a man in a bar who said he was a retired poet
spent his time writing slogans on walls
I told him about the affable smelter in Dubai
the retired poet looked out of the window
picked up his notebook and took no interest
in my smelter
He had seen a donkey with a straw hat and
regretted his retirement
Gobble Gobble I am in big trouble
Placed into the oven without a last Gobble
Stretching my neck to see
Stuffed to the brim with bread and celery
Laying next to a pumpkin pie
Homemade bread cooked golden brown
With eggnog and dark rum floating around
Football games and children playing
Carving and cutting breaking my only wishbone
My only revenge is to fill their tummy's
Putting them all to sleep
R.I.P. To all my passed Turkey friends
A festival for all except for me,
My goose has been cooked and eaten
Now comes a dark day, Black Friday
All shopping for the next Holiday
To be continued
On Christmas Day
Monday
what a astonishing day !
the doors opened
and everyone runs away ...
Car Assemblies
debate the road,
festival of colors
parade in clothes ...
Monday of
cheerful faces,
flash happiness
similar to pasta
instantaneous ...
Talking collectives,
talking shorts
and bermudas ...
collective madness ...
and they all come
to the conquest of the sea!
fast food invasion
revolution of leisure ...
Joyful Monday
no ugly face ...
without stormy monday
just holidays ...!
when will it be?
in a dream -
Mississippi, the 50's
lone hike on a sweltry spring-tide day
rolling fields of cotton and wheat
cauliflower clouds like lazy old men
creeping across a buttery haze …
as I walk, I tickle the tops of the grasses
hands open, palms down
blessing them
like mischievous children …
strolling a rise
in no hurry but oddly compelled
ball cap and short sleeves
skin rosy from the midday shine -
naked, dazzling sun, yet …
an odd trepidation as I round the hilltop -
below is a peach grove
in glorious, pregnant bloom
such strange fruit, these southern trees bear
burnished, dark, twisted
slowly spinning in the cruel heat -
and flies …
realization
hits me like a fist
and I retch into the beautiful
blossoms at my knees
turning away in horror and shame
for my skin is white -
the fetor, overwhelming
and he...
was but a boy.
~ For Billie Holiday and Abel Meeropol ~
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Early January 2019 Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Those men who come in crowds
and move multitudes uncountable
begin on high grounds with joy
then there comes slippery preface
Gross praise, flattery, faked joy
painting foolishness on the lovers
chanting hymns of duped adoration
begetting species of blind men
And the preface of the slide rages
laughing without happiness within
creating success without success
preaching loyalty with iron fist
When the slide comes unpredicted
goats begin to know they are goats
sheep believe demise is on holiday
but all feet slide without control
Then why build slippery grounds?
there is one thing mysterious with man
one fool elevated makes others fools
foolishly they sweetly ape the master
Down the cliff many slide and thud
scared some grab broken rock pieces
fanatics stick on the grand fool’s back
as their fall earthquake around globe
There's even a hardened discard of foul colored mucous on the tip of my thumb.
Nail bitter, straw chewer—
Germ phobic Venetian blind side peep is a
Hippo sized discreet-ly…
Snorting lies after lies... Seize him!
—As our slave driven worker—
-Or-
May assassination’s will render ill-justice in its many justified forms'; instance…
In plain sight, we can see you.
On the news many faces represent the power that is you.
Yet to find the correct plan of action—
I, personally, have only myself; mind, body and soul.
And for the time being…
I’ve got fingers on my boogers
1-19-2017
(Tomorrow is Inauguration Day; Farewell Obama. Thank you for your service!)
Building a cocoon from a nut: Coconut*
Spinning a cocoon over man: Mummy*
Spinning a vaccine: Auto:Correct(ing):Automation*
Spinning a cocoon: Caterpillar*
Spinning out of a vaccine: Auto:Corrected:Automate*
Spinning out of a cocoon:
Transformation is occurring with in a cocoon and
*Butterfly*
Spinning out of
A
Man
Who transforms within a cocoon:
*:Nothing As of Late:*
10-31-16
-Holiday Write
Halloween Holiday: Celebrated Annually, in The United States of America.*
Present Date: December 25, 1995
Envelope Date Stamped: December 23, 1944
From: _______ no return address but clearly overseas
To: Addressed to widow living in same home 54 years
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The Letter
The letter came by mail on Christmas Day
The envelope was clearly decades old
No postal service can be used today
From overseas the stamps were sealed and sold
This could not be about the man I lost
The mystery of where he is remains
Is MIA from World War II his cost
In this enfolded missive clue contains
An overwhelming fear takes hold of me
To get this letter on a holiday
My life content but miss my man at sea
Potential subterfuge to my dismay ?
Sit next to flaming hearth not thinking clear
There's something that this letter has to say
Mentation meditates the chiffonier
I put away to read another day
My man is Bluebeard
On this holiday for two
And I don't want to go
To spend every hour asleep or awake
With him
His voice controlling every action
every movement moment.
I will be caught in the might
of his King Kong grip
Alternately controlling
then beseeching
The needy man child
desperate to be loved
that makes this monstrous He
That must subjugate and control the She
To leave nothing to chance
In this the field of love
To hold and crush in his hot hand
the fragile wilting bloom
Content with that death
for ownership is all.
The Woman Outside ©
A woman lost and innocent,
loving the wrong man, loving him in spite
of his terrible choices, bearing
his children, knowing the gamble
The gamble is lost and they
take him away
to a place where fear, anger and
violence reigns
and he has no choice but to do his time
and come out alive
She has lost far more than freedom,
and occupies her own prison of
fear, hopelessness, and resentment
Once a month and every holiday she takes
her beautiful hopeful children inside the walls
to sit in the cold dreary room with the
other families; always waiting
She must play the part of the good wife and
perfect mother while she slowly withers inside
her soul crying out because she has done
nothing wrong but still will be
punished with the rest of them.
Trisha Sugarek
Moths and Machettes