Metaphor Seeking Friendly Advice Poems
#metaphor
The Lion King...
Tell me your secrets, the carnivore of the wilderness
Your soul soaring in the winds as fast as the speed of time
Of ancient elite of feline sacred scrolls
The galaxy manifested the image of greatness of old
I order you to show me the molars of your time
When the ferocious aura of your nature superseded
Stirring within the midst of man’s dominant population
Predator by day, ruler of the night, rewarded in your reverence by dawn
The mighty roar of the stalk is the linage of your strength, your virility
Ruling the domain of...
Your soul soaring in the winds as fast as the speed of time
Of ancient elite of feline sacred scrolls
The galaxy manifested the image of greatness of old
I order you to show me the molars of your time
When the ferocious aura of your nature superseded
Stirring within the midst of man’s dominant population
Predator by day, ruler of the night, rewarded in your reverence by dawn
The mighty roar of the stalk is the linage of your strength, your virility
Ruling the domain of...
#spiritual
#lover
#metaphor
#philosophical
#passion
266 reads
19 Comments
The Poet
The silhouette of her soul glistened
in the falling twilight.
Her eyes were haunted by yearn.
Her heart beating brimming with woven words.
Concealing her secrets in velvet prose.
She lay in a field of midnight sky.
Stars of thoughts a sweet scattering
throughout her mind.
She tears through her fibers of ecstasy
to extract the underlying debris of pain.
A chrysalis of dark euphoria
Starkly alive on the page.
in the falling twilight.
Her eyes were haunted by yearn.
Her heart beating brimming with woven words.
Concealing her secrets in velvet prose.
She lay in a field of midnight sky.
Stars of thoughts a sweet scattering
throughout her mind.
She tears through her fibers of ecstasy
to extract the underlying debris of pain.
A chrysalis of dark euphoria
Starkly alive on the page.
#WritingPoetry
#metaphor
59 reads
4 Comments
again, writing
it has happened
again,
i sit close within
these late hours,
my mind,
my pen steadily
filled with thought,
with passion,
assuming
their declaration
for freedom,
the words
pour out of me
like life blood
emptying
my creative vessel,
staining
the night's breath.
again,
i sit close within
these late hours,
my mind,
my pen steadily
filled with thought,
with passion,
assuming
their declaration
for freedom,
the words
pour out of me
like life blood
emptying
my creative vessel,
staining
the night's breath.
#strength
#emotional
#metaphor #emotions
#metaphor #emotions
115 reads
6 Comments
a dead butterfly on the windowsill
A dead butterfly on the windowsill
the child didn't believe when found it still.
it was still so pretty though lifeless and stiff
Many found it right to put it on a stick.
Plastic flowers atop the chest of drawers
its new permanent home this imitation tower.
a dead butterfly on the windowsill
A fatal mistake- it followed its will.
the child didn't believe when found it still.
it was still so pretty though lifeless and stiff
Many found it right to put it on a stick.
Plastic flowers atop the chest of drawers
its new permanent home this imitation tower.
a dead butterfly on the windowsill
A fatal mistake- it followed its will.
#love
#tragedy
#metaphor
170 reads
4 Comments
Just Flowing Here.!?/
I'm in in my pocket,flow like moon stars and rockets, I'm hotter than a electric socket, born a child into this world, and shocked it.
I saw a lost heard so I locked it. saw the most beautiful neck,so I mocked it, your mind click I unlocked it. Umm Star Trek, I knocked it out, I'm Mr. Spoc it. Knock out, you got it,
Davey had a gun and shot it had a strong drink, fell asleep and forgot about it. I assure it I have no doubt about it. Sometimes I shout about about it. I'm calming down, so no reason to be loud...
I saw a lost heard so I locked it. saw the most beautiful neck,so I mocked it, your mind click I unlocked it. Umm Star Trek, I knocked it out, I'm Mr. Spoc it. Knock out, you got it,
Davey had a gun and shot it had a strong drink, fell asleep and forgot about it. I assure it I have no doubt about it. Sometimes I shout about about it. I'm calming down, so no reason to be loud...
#dialogue
#uplifting
#metaphor
#philosophical
#StreamOfConsciousness
97 reads
3 Comments
The Universe's Loving Children
As T stomped towards the exit sign, D screamed "Don't let the door hit you on the way out!"
T spun around to retort, "Well, maybe it would if you ever fixed the door!"
"You're the one with the tools! You make it happen! You fix it! You have the time to fix it!"
"Well, maybe I would if you ever told me to. But, 'it's not my plan'" T mocked.
As the door slammed, D broke down sobbing. The tears fell off of D's cheeks; the rain poured down below.
The clocks had all gone dark, as usual for when T left, but this time (no pun intended) there...
T spun around to retort, "Well, maybe it would if you ever fixed the door!"
"You're the one with the tools! You make it happen! You fix it! You have the time to fix it!"
"Well, maybe I would if you ever told me to. But, 'it's not my plan'" T mocked.
As the door slammed, D broke down sobbing. The tears fell off of D's cheeks; the rain poured down below.
The clocks had all gone dark, as usual for when T left, but this time (no pun intended) there...
#ShortStory
#metaphor
65 reads
0 Comments
retreat
poetry
becomes
that kind
of wish,
that
soft whisper,
my dearest
love,
that nearest
star, waiting
in forever
moments
where
the world
can retreat.
becomes
that kind
of wish,
that
soft whisper,
my dearest
love,
that nearest
star, waiting
in forever
moments
where
the world
can retreat.
#uplifting
#nostalgia
#emotional
#metaphor
#philosophical
154 reads
6 Comments
The perfect storm
I stray
from where it's warm
choose the perfection
of icy wind
cutting me
in tidy little ribbons
releasing anxious pain
in whispered
rivulets
It's my way;
wandering alone
roaming far away
from hearth and home
unharbored— jettisoned
finding rapture in ruins
my own shipwrecked architect
Squalls carry familiar sounds,
recognition is a meandering thought
slivers of miracles
erode time
tamp down depression
refreshing stagnant minds
hailing the horizon's harmonic...
from where it's warm
choose the perfection
of icy wind
cutting me
in tidy little ribbons
releasing anxious pain
in whispered
rivulets
It's my way;
wandering alone
roaming far away
from hearth and home
unharbored— jettisoned
finding rapture in ruins
my own shipwrecked architect
Squalls carry familiar sounds,
recognition is a meandering thought
slivers of miracles
erode time
tamp down depression
refreshing stagnant minds
hailing the horizon's harmonic...
#anxiety
#sea
#MentalHealth
#metaphor
#SelfDiscovery
522 reads
47 Comments
Forty Days
Who seeks the desert, valley of dry bones
wilderness, outside of fertility
that barren place, where no one desires naturally
criminal, outlaw, or scapegoat cast out;
and the hermit who seeks spiritual solitude
examines himself, purifies and returns to the Great City
with knowledge and strength
some for forty days, others forever
-- the final rejection of Worldly Life
dying to the corporeal, living in spirit
absorbed entirely in prayer
the desert is justice, outside of law
a place of punishment or purgation
of...
wilderness, outside of fertility
that barren place, where no one desires naturally
criminal, outlaw, or scapegoat cast out;
and the hermit who seeks spiritual solitude
examines himself, purifies and returns to the Great City
with knowledge and strength
some for forty days, others forever
-- the final rejection of Worldly Life
dying to the corporeal, living in spirit
absorbed entirely in prayer
the desert is justice, outside of law
a place of punishment or purgation
of...
#spiritual
#metaphor
#philosophical #wisdom
#philosophical #wisdom
198 reads
2 Comments
Dark Dreaming
powerless to resist
unable to desist
lines flow bold
on these pages I hold
words of dark dreaming
so innocent seeming
yet written in blood
now trapped in a flood
these my phantasies
of dark alchemies
speaking blasphemies
that rips open a door
for the next lines of prose
unwillingly composed
this spell now complete
with lines of deceit
the price my soul
has always been the goal
to write in rhythm and rhyme
with these my words
reality blurs
to live my phantasies ...
unable to desist
lines flow bold
on these pages I hold
words of dark dreaming
so innocent seeming
yet written in blood
now trapped in a flood
these my phantasies
of dark alchemies
speaking blasphemies
that rips open a door
for the next lines of prose
unwillingly composed
this spell now complete
with lines of deceit
the price my soul
has always been the goal
to write in rhythm and rhyme
with these my words
reality blurs
to live my phantasies ...
#magic
#metaphor
#StreamOfConsciousness #obsession
#StreamOfConsciousness #obsession
286 reads
8 Comments
daytime stellar nurseries skinnydipping into the Now
magnetic windblown
memories
curve horizonward
like civilizations forgotten
fractal tears
unwept
history's arc
pooling intoxicatingly
a distilled concoction
rising
scorched and triumphant
breath perfumed
with poesy
pile of masks
discarded
cityscapes of sandcastles
glittering through stained-glass thoughts
immutable soul beauty
rebuffing tide's twinkling caress
memories
curve horizonward
like civilizations forgotten
fractal tears
unwept
history's arc
pooling intoxicatingly
a distilled concoction
rising
scorched and triumphant
breath perfumed
with poesy
pile of masks
discarded
cityscapes of sandcastles
glittering through stained-glass thoughts
immutable soul beauty
rebuffing tide's twinkling caress
#inspirational
#wind
#nature
#metaphor
#healing
227 reads
2 Comments
A Stink Bomb Has Risen From Hell
Death of a spirit as you earthly roam
Looking for comfort, oh thy wicked heart of stone
Risen of thy soft touch conformed from the hands of Satan
From the stench of hell its bomb unto earth awaiting
Forsaken upon the green of earth in the cradle of a little girl
Until horns as growth manifested to be denied by fate
A guardian’s love, forsaken to demonically unfurl
Condemned in the bedlam of thy own befuddled mind
Child of woman from the womb of a Jezabel and of a Jackel
Asunder, confused by the secret...
Looking for comfort, oh thy wicked heart of stone
Risen of thy soft touch conformed from the hands of Satan
From the stench of hell its bomb unto earth awaiting
Forsaken upon the green of earth in the cradle of a little girl
Until horns as growth manifested to be denied by fate
A guardian’s love, forsaken to demonically unfurl
Condemned in the bedlam of thy own befuddled mind
Child of woman from the womb of a Jezabel and of a Jackel
Asunder, confused by the secret...
#TruthOfLife
#hell
#apocalypse
#metaphor
#philosophical
438 reads
10 Comments
DU Poetry : Metaphor Seeking Friendly Advice Poems