From Robert Lee Brewer:
For today’s prompt, write a metaphor poem. That is, write a poem built around a metaphor. Remember: Metaphors actually take on another object (like “I am a Tree” or “I am a Rock“). This is not to be confused with similes, which are like metaphors (for instance, “I am like a tree” or “I am like a rock”), but not quite. Dig? If so, then you are a shovel or spade or bulldozer. Now poem the heck out of metaphors today.
only five mins to write this poem. can't guarantee any spelling, or quality. straight up on the screen.
ReplyDeleteSTONE
she made me stone
right down to the bone
death and i are old friends
though both of us still pretends
little lies devour my soul
to be whole? or under pressure turn to coal.
outta time. i know it needs a third verse, but only seconds left.
yes i understand about death being an old friend. kind of got too acquainted with that entity myself. i like this poem!
DeleteI like this a lot.
DeleteA very special poem. Would like to see another verse hoeer it's good as it is also.
Deletedeath and i have hung out a few times. the reaper ain't much of a party guy though - love and peace - paul.
Deletethanks victoria. i'm better under pressure....like the queen/bowie song - puppy dog woofs - paul.
Deletethanks tash. yep, it needed another verse. just ran out of time........story of my life - take care - love - paul.
DeleteI look through the closet of my life
ReplyDeletefind an old pair of worn out shoes
tucked behind clothes that no longer fit
styles long forgotten
Old photographs in a dusty box
memories of another time
cards and ribbons lie askew
life from days gone by
Old shoes old clothes old memories
my life - myself - my scattered dreams
lie in the back of a closet
lost in darkness and in time
Beautiful
DeleteWow! one of your best!
Deletereply poem - i dust the cobwebs from my mind
Deletejust to see that diamond i can't find - paul.
Secrets slither down
ReplyDeletehallways concealed by doorways
eclipsed by shadows.
Her red lips, red hair
red dress, shimmer in dim light
as the door opens.
"Stop," she cautions, then
views the intruder, smiles
with invitation.
Case of mistaken
identity, so like him,
she discerns too late
it was not bright, door
unlocked, unprotected. One
can intrude unheard.
"Pizza?" he inquired.
Pepperoni, sausage. Smells
waft across the room.
Memories flood her
senses, family dinners,
Friday gatherings.
"So like your father,"
she says, "thought you were a ghost
come back to haunt me."
"I battle that ghost
each day." her visitor puts
forth. "He's never gone."
A good deal of time
has passed since their last meeting
yet they do not touch.
"You should, could, have warned,
prepared my marrow for this
abrupt reunion.
Why now?" she laments,
purses her red lips, turns her
red dress to the wall.
She slumps, a spider
luring prey, feels arms surround,
capture completed.
"Let's eat some pizza
before it gets cold, but you
must hear my report."
Words tight, a coiled spring
ready to release, trigger
savage explosions.
awesome verse!
DeleteWELL DONE!!!
Deleteterrific, this gets better and better!!!
Deletefingers on the triggers here too vic - love and peace - paul.
DeleteI am a sharp knife
ReplyDeleteI can stab you with my tongue
I am more dangerous than
a two sided blade
but I will only wound you
if you tear my spirit
or torment my psyche
or place dark matter in my life
because I am a sharp knife...
WOW, good one!
Deletethe tongue is mightier than the sword
Deleteouch! think you cut me with this one wolfie - flick knives for prossies - paul.
DeleteI love it. And I certainly can identify.
DeleteMy Love and I
ReplyDeleteMy love and I may wander through thickets of thistles and thorns
and not be harmed
My love and I may meander through mingled moments of seduction
and not be charmed.
Wrapped in the knowledge of each others' arms we are
well armored with protection
Secure in trust and filled with thankfulness we feel
the blessing of connection.
My love and I are one and in that oneness
grow together like a tree.
We are its branches and its roots,
embraced as one eternally.
i love the idea of love being the branches and the roots. lovely!
Deletelove protects you from the thorns tash - in a gooseberry bush - paul.
DeleteI can almost hear Celtic music playing when I read this. Lovely.
Deleteyes, I could almost hear the music, also!!! very well done!!!
ReplyDeleteMany thanks or the kind words, you are all so nice to comment and encouraging too!
ReplyDelete