
People who speak in metaphors should shampoo my crotch.
quote by Jack Nicholson

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Green Onion Shampoo
The baby-sitter's nuts! Please listen Mom, it's true!
Last night she washed my hair with Green Onion Shampoo!
Green Onion Shampoo! Green Onion Shampoo!
It smells worse than bad, and when you get through,
Your poor scalp will burn, your eyes will burn too!
Who ever heard of Green Onion Shampoo?
Why did she do that? She has a loose screw!
It's made in Cleveland! This stuff is brand new!
I don't understand! God, what did I do?
To ever deserve Green Onion Shampoo?
Promise to fire her! And trust when I say...
If you rehire her... I must run away!
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre

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Let's Leave The 'Poems' Without Metaphors
LET’S LEAVE THE ‘POEMS’ WITHOUT METAPHORS
Let’s leave the ‘poems’ without metaphors
Bare and stark and original
Quiet and sleeping and still
The soothing poems the calming poems
The poems that even in the middle of the night
Let us sleep.
Let’s leave the poems without metaphors
And go back to the simple words
And let them say all they can by themselves
Until they become metaphors too.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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336
the main entry
of course in tonight’s activity
is the
crotch
I like it as a noun
And will always
Be itself a
Very hot noun
They say it
Might probably be an
Alteration
Of a crutch
In 1563
It was a pole with a forked end
A prop of old men
Actually as we see it
A crotch
Is just an angle formed by
The parting of two legs
This is the one
That I like best
An image of parting legs
Now this becomes
My favorite verb: parting.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The Failure Of Rhyme
it i were to speak to you
in rhyme
and well thought of metaphors
it will take me
more time
and i do not have much of it
and i cannot possibly tell you
what i have within
completely
i have no dream of perfection
there is no such things as us
as perfect as a cup or a ring
and we will be at a loss at the end
not having said
what should have been stated so clearly
and spontaneously
as river and rain
or as dew on a leaf of grass
early dawn
when metaphors fail
when rhythm and rhyme stand aloof
along the boulevard without rails
the streams of our consciousness is always there
to save us
willing to adopt us in the form of a sacrifice
i am here now and
i am talking to myself
and since you are here not to listen
i reserve this
space for you for the future
for time that does not die
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The Lovers
Her sweat painted nipples brush against his skin,
Titilating and warming his blood as they gyrate slowly,
She feels his heartbeat ripple through her palm,
Something else rapping to and fro against her thigh,
He kisses her chin, neck down to her navel-
It is so quiet that he can hear her crotch breathe,
She then mourns in a tongue he knows not-
He understands the tongue though-of gasping parenthesis,
His crotch now a pendulum up and down patiently,
Heenters her recess they become one,
One two three times.
poem by Isunge Mwangase

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A Poet's Old Age Should Be An Adventure In Metaphors
A Poet's old age should be an adventure in Metaphors-
Traveling to distant unknown shores-
Discoveries undreamed before -
Old Age should be the Age of Metaphors-
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Tomas did not realize at the time that metaphors are dangerous. Metaphors are not to be trifled with. A single metaphor can give birth to love.
Milan Kundera in The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alley Rats
They were calling certain styles of whiskers by the name of “lilacs.”
And another manner of beard assumed in their chatter a verbal guise
Of “mutton chops,” “galways,” “feather dusters.”
Metaphors such as these sprang from their lips while other street cries
Sprang from sparrows finding scattered oats among interstices of the curb.
Ah-hah these metaphors—and Ah-hah these boys—among the police they were known
As the Dirty Dozen and their names took the front pages of newspapers
And two of them croaked on the same day at a “necktie party” … if we employ the metaphors of their lips.
poem by Carl Sandburg

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Speak With Kindness (Or Do Not Speak At All)
speak with kindness,
or do not speak at all.
speak not of judgement,
you are not the judge.
speak not of salvation,
let your living be your scriptures.
speak not of scriptures,
let your actions be your holy book.
speak not as apostle or teacher,
speak as a human being.
speak not of god,
then god will speak through you!
speak not as a man,
for you are woman too.
speak not with hateful malice,
for love does not work that way.
speak not as a prophet or seer,
speak as compassion made flesh.
speak not of morality,
speak of connection.
speak not of authority,
the tree and the leaf have just as much.
speak not of holiness,
for all that lives be holy.
speak with kindness...
or do not speak at all!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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I Don't Know Why I Should Try To Write A Poem Now
I don't know why
I should try to write
A poem now-
There will be other times
When the Metaphors
I ordinarily do not have
Flow not easily in me
Like water lava
Like blood- thinned by aspirin-
All I have to do is
Keep reading enough poetry of others
And exotic metaphors
Will come to me
As if I were another person's voice
And nothing in myself
Real as my own.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Spring Cleaning
O Sun,
you speak in metaphors
shining with a wintry discontent
grey-yellow on this dust
that dodged your view
until today
or perhaps, you are yourself
the brightest fiery metaphor of all
poem by Michael Shepherd

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The Poetry In Us
it is not
in the metaphors that
we invent from
day to day
those that we see
in things that
we dress for ourselves
those that we
think can speak what is
unspeakable in
our beings
which in any way no matter
what we do
remain unspeakable
because they are.
the poetry in us
is not the poem.
do not ask me
it is nothing.l
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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A Sower Went out to Sow
It sprang up at once because the soil was not deep,
and when the sun rose it was scorched, and it withered for lack of roots.
Some seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it.
But some seed fell on rich soil, and produced fruit, a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold.'
for the Lord speaks
in parables
in the same manner that
we
who try to become poets
shall too
speak in
metaphors
sometimes
to please you
i shall only
speak
those words that
you want to hear
and not the
truth
thereof
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Hiding Emotion in Metaphors
I'm sitting here wondering
can i hide my emotion through words
writing in metaphors
when really its all plain
I'm broken
easy enough to say
but what does it mean
I'm in pieces
i don't work anymore
I'm broken
who says that to explain emotion
except a poet
finding metaphor for emotion
does it mean I'm sad, yes
does it mean I'm torn, yes
what does torn mean
torn like an old rug
torn like a dollar bill
ripped to shreds, broken
who needs a metaphor to explain emotion
when its laid out in front of everyone
my eyes are swollen
my body is bruised
my words are silent
my smile is fake
its all plain and simple
laid out like a flashing sign
i am broken
even though my emotions are plain
i still have to explain through metaphors
because people don't look for a simple answer
they look for the secrets people tell
is she holding back tears
is her smile today real
I'm broken
but people don't look to see me
they look to find emotion
encoded in this poem
hiding my feelings
in this metaphorical language
because people don't look
i am broken
poem by Audrey Marie Kay

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The Moderns
To many reading modern poetry more interesting the meaning in the metaphors they seek to find
They feel it makes their brains work that much harder that it is good exercise for the mind
Rhyme for their great brains seems that bit too simple it does not test their thinking power at all
'Tis not a poem to them if it seems simple and the meaning in it easy to recall,
Yes rhyme for them it does seem that bit simple and deciphering it to them is not a test
The hidden meaning in the metaphors is something that does seem to try them best
Rhyme poetry to them is too simple and far too easy for to understand
It has to be blank verse with dozens of metaphors for their interest for to command
They look on rhyme and bush poets as inferior their preference in poets and poetry they make known
On literature they air their opinions like it is said to each their own
Their poetry evenings do seem quite exclusive rhyme poets to read they never do invite
Their unmusical lines that are laced with metaphors to each other they do recite
They do not like rhyme or they do not like bush poetry to them it is of another time
And in their poetry evenings there is no place for the men and the women of rhyme.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Plain Cat
i do not have the mood
for tautologies
and dialectics
and metaphors
so a cat is just a
cat and the printer
is just another printer
and the bloody ink
is just the plain
bloody ink on those
literal floors
but i like your
idea of the cat calling
for a cat's nap ang
perhaps a little pat
on her back
cats too have
birthdays and
metaphors may
convert them
to wives and
concubines
cats and moons
struck and grinning.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The Same Story, The same History
...and so the same story is told
the same history is made....
why always speak of descrimination
why always speak of war
why always speak of class
why always speak of injustice
why always speak of poverty
why always speak of rebellion....
why not speak of equality
why not speak of peace
why not speak of respect
why not speak of wisdom
why not speak of production
why not speak of working together...
...and so the same story is told
the same history is made.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano

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Animal Awareness
I had a man
Stand on a point
And look out into a void
Framed by the outline of himself.
The point was at the entrance to a cave.
The entrance,
Shaped like him, legs akimbo,
Each arm outstretched to the side,
Resembled a five-legged star,
The point, the lowest crotch of the star.
To relieve the white of the void,
Behind the entrance to the cave
I painted five conical pines
The apex of each at a crotch of the legs of the star.
The void became a sky
Above the peaks of the pines.
Further back inside the cave
I drew a geometrical detail
Of a beetle's fabulous wing,
and another of such obscurity
I was buried in the part
Unsure of knowing the whole.
What's more,
I was without a need to know
What lies BEYOND the whole,
or lies beyond the HOLE.
poem by Douglas Scotney

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Speaking true
some people speak with their mouth
most of the words are not true
some people speak with their
most people think the words are true
some people speak with their heart
most people know the words are true
when you speak, speak with your heart
and people will belive you,
I belive that is how God did it
poem by Brandon Brooks

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I Stopped Comparing Myself To Others
Bong is happier with his private practice
of law in Ortigas.
i CAN deduce that from his smiles
as he toured Europe
for tax shelter
His conscious is clean
posing like Alexander the Great
at the Acropolis
at nighttime.
I like his pictures at Vatican
Must be heavenly there
Cool and huge
architecture
simply amazing and i still have the wish
to do it better in
Amsterdam
Rey loves to shampoo his
Beagle in Chicago
Puts more time on his dog
than himself and it makes
his happier too
Guess i am happier here too
Tropical climate
How can i imagine surviving
in the snow as thick and
cold as
a forest uninhabited by
monkeys
I don't rhyme sometimes
and does not get the correct metaphors
for my existence
but well, this is my choice
and i still love it.
i can't waste my money on a round trip
ticket to Rome
or Greece
I haven't even savored yet
the seaside of my own place.
TOmorrow i am going to Ponot
climb a coconut tree
swim in the river
and dry my naked body
on top of the cliff.
I can fish and eat my catch.
I can walk faraway and sleep
where my feet want to rest.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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