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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Related quotes
Is letting go a metaphor?
what is letting go -
letting go of grief?
the serenity of letting go?
(must be a bad metaphor)
losing represents letting go of control
I need to understand this 'letting go'
is it a metaphor for facing the inevitable?
breathing as a metaphor for living
'the practice of pruning wine vines'
is that a metaphor for letting go?
surrender. reaching towards the future
if you'll excuse another bad metaphor...
'the last of the sand is pouring...'
onion metaphors are stripped down to the core
letting go is a metaphor for acceptance
is acceptance a metaphor for failure?
'The freedom of letting go'
that does sound grand
letting go is not for the faint-hearted
my hands and heart are tired from letting go
so many times over
examine why metaphor is not
a substitute for the literal
letting go is
a metaphor
for goodbye
110709
poem by Terri Turrell
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The Poem Is A Metaphor
THE POEM IS A METAPHOR
The Poem is a Metaphor
It means ‘the world’
It means ‘all that there is’
It means ‘the soul’
It means ‘our deepest feeling’.
The Poem is a Metaphor
It is more than what it just appears to be
It takes on a life of its own
It says more than it can define itself as
The Poem is a Metaphor
And it itself does not understand
Where it began and how it will end
And whether or not
It should always be rewritten.
The Poem is a Metaphor
And we too are metaphors
That will vanish one day
When all the real Poems
Pretend to still be here.
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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Heaven as spectrum
Bold March sunlight bounces
off the yellow-grey-brown London claybricks
of the house across the gardens;
the next-door neighbour’s cut the dead ivy
and the reflected light hits the artificial flowers
and their strong delicate colours, glowing
in their various cobalt vases; blooming joyful
where living flowers find that corner sad;
the flowers as if washed today with brighter water-colours;
as if grace itself, wishing to send a message
to this room today, had chosen the spectrum
of the flowers’ purples, yellows, blues and reds
as its medium and message; and its smile;
today, the spectrum is for me
metaphor enough – its rainbow limits
playing now-you-see-me… with the retina,
hinting at the formless always beckoning
there, beyond the form..
metaphor enough
for heaven’s mind itself; and heaven’s smile.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Metaphor lives a secret life all around us. We utter about six metaphors a minute. Metaphorical thinking is essential to how we understand ourselves and others, how we communicate, learn, discover and invent. But metaphor is a way of thought before it is a way with words.
James Geary in Metaphorically speaking (2009)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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It is a New Day
Today is a new day
today is a new life
today, yes today is a special day
it never has occurred before
the sun light cast on today is ancient
the words I will speak will be for the first time, today
The air I breath is new today
the aches are new as well
the feelings are new today
my cats meow is new today
todays lunch I have is new
the thoughts I think are new today
the life I live today is new
indeed today is a new day
poem by Bullion Grey
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Making Of A Poem
What's a poem?
It's a metaphor, it's a metaphor,
What's a metaphor?
'It is a device for seeing something in terms of something else.
It brings out the thisness of that, or a thatness of this.'
How do I write a metaphor?
Think of rain as the cry of the heavens,
Think of love as a rose,
Think of burning candle as the agony of a lonely heart.
How do I piece together metaphors?
On a moonlit night, I see my love reflected in the moon's silvery light,
Holding her tight, I smell the fragrance of jasmine tonight,
Adoring her smile, I see the beauty of monarch butterflies,
Staring in her eyes, I see the oasis of love in my high desert lonely life.
How do I write a poem?
I love her but have not a spoken a word.
You have the inspiration, put in some romantic words.
On a beautiful moon lit night, I wonder who is prettier,
When I look at you, I forget about the moon.
Knit together love, loneliness, fear and tears of heart,
Into a beautiful tapestry of emotions and feelings that mask your heart,
Stitch some metaphors, make it a heartwarming comforter.
poem by Jay P Narain
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A Metaphor Is Easy To Make
a metaphor is easy to make
and so easy to recall
remember the cat's feet like a fog
leaving softly the harbor in the city?
remember a misery that jumps like a flea &
bites you and you cannot sleep
and you say life is like that
a flea
remember
you think of time as a growing child
a man,
a wild man running and chasing
virgins that must make most of their time
because
time is a-flying and
the rose that blooms today
tomorrow
may be dying
remember time in a bottle
remember life like a fruit fly trapped
trying to figure
out how to escape
and you say life is like that
a fruit fly
remember death
like a woman sleeping in her chambers
closing the curtains
and you say
death is like that
a mere closing of a curtain
just like that
remember how
loneliness is like a steel tunnel
you get in there,
some birds hover and fly away from you
you get in there,
and there seems to be no light visible
at the end
loneliness
life is like that
you see
metaphors and dissect every vein
every artery
every bone and
cartilage of
these metaphors that you
say do not exist
in prose
, , , , , , , , , , , that you say do not exist in my prose
mine is not poetry
mine is a poverty of poetry
and you claim
yours is the basket the cornocupia of true poetry
good for you, you are the prima donna
of this
dance
this quibble in poetry
it does not matter
give me some metaphors
about poverty, discrimination, meaninglessness,
purposelessness,
non-being, the metaphysics of early death
a being-in-distress
an addict
a streetchild
a battered wife
a cruel father
a hypocirte priest
an embittered professor
a disgruntled student
give me some metaphors about
corruption, lying presidents, secret killings
you are the master of metaphor
you are the queen of slave
metaphors
so be it.
make me a poem to the strictures of metaphor
give poems a strange face
a hybrid of dog and man
make them read and not understand
delude them
give them illusions
confusions
make them baffled, submissive, uncritical, uncomplaining
complacent,
bewilder them to your secret,
derivative and too personalized
metaphors
and you are happy
they do not understand a thing
and they will believe that you are God.
for those that we do not understand
we call it mystery
we call it metaphor
we call it
unquestionable.
let the oppression stay.
let the discrimination live in the metaphors that
you have made.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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36
a metaphor is easy to make
and so easy to recall
remember the cat's feet like a fog
leaving softly the harbor in the city?
remember a misery that jumps like a flea &
bites you and you cannot sleep
and you say life is like that
a flea
remember
you think of time as a growing child
a man,
a wild man running and chasing
virgins that must make most of their time
because
time is a-flying and
the rose that blooms today
tomorrow
may be dying
remember time in a bottle
remember life like a fruit fly trapped
trying to figure
out how to escape
and you say life is like that
a fruit fly
remember death
like a woman sleeping in her chambers
closing the curtains
and you say
death is like that
a mere closing of a curtain
just like that
remember how
loneliness is like a steel tunnel
you get in there,
some birds hover and fly away from you
you get in there,
and there seems to be no light visible
at the end
loneliness
life is like that
you see
metaphors and dissect every vein
every artery
every bone and
cartilage of
these metaphors that you
say do not exist
in prose
, , , , , , , , , , , that you say do not exist in my prose
mine is not poetry
mine is a poverty of poetry
and you claim
yours is the basket the cornocupia of true poetry
good for you, you are the prima donna
of this
dance
this quibble in poetry
it does not matter
give me some metaphors
about poverty, discrimination, meaninglessness,
purposelessness,
non-being, the metaphysics of early death
a being-in-distress
an addict
a streetchild
a battered wife
a cruel father
a hypocirte priest
an embittered professor
a disgruntled student
give me some metaphors about
corruption, lying presidents, secret killings
you are the master of metaphor
you are the queen of slave
metaphors
so be it.
make me a poem to the strictures of metaphor
give poems a strange face
a hybrid of dog and man
make them read and not understand
delude them
give them illusions
confusions
make them baffled, submissive, uncritical, uncomplaining
complacent,
bewilder them to your secret,
derivative and too personalized
metaphors
and you are happy
they do not understand a thing
and they will believe that you are God.
for those that we do not understand
we call it mystery
we call it metaphor
we call it
unquestionable.
let the oppression stay.
let the discrimination live in the metaphors that
you have made.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the steps of Rumi 88: Metaphor
Simile – what looks like something else –
that’s a fun game for the senses,
for the mind: oh look Dad,
there’s a scarecrow in that field
that looks just like a man, does it
really scare crows?
Oh look Dad, there’s a beggar in the street
who looks just like a scarecrow,
I wonder if the same crows
see him too?
But metaphor – ah, that’s something else:
explanations don’t quite explain it:
you see something; it brings to mind
something very different; maybe
you just forget it, pass on; maybe
you’re a poet, and you think,
that other thing casts a subtle light
on this first thing, I’ll see if others
find the same.. and, sometimes they do,
sometimes they don’t…
Metaphor brings the whole universe,
world upon world, to the mind:
you could write a poem full of metaphor
as long as the circumference of the world,
and when you’d written it out, you’d find yourself
right here again just where you were.. but
what a lot you’d seen on the way…
We’re so used to some metaphors
because by now, they’re shared,
written into language (lucky the people
who inherit languages such as these,
they’re born into poetry…) :
take ‘bread’: you walk past the baker’s shop
in the early morning when the air is clear –
or better, go in to buy your breakfast rolls:
the smell couldn’t be more wonderful,
more promising.. the bread’s so delicious,
and best eaten today..
ah yes, ‘daily bread’ – that becomes a metaphor
for all that each and every day brings –
waking up, new thoughts, new experiences,
all that brings life to life…
that covers so many subtle things…
where does it all come from?
that’s for you to say…
Sometimes it seems that the whole world
is a metaphor for something…
for what? For its own unity,
for its very creation,
for that which we call God,
for our very self?
that’s for you to say…
Metaphor. When you meet it,
does it make you think of
English class, another boring
poem, another boring question
to answer as you chew your pen –
‘What does the poet mean when
he speaks of, lies like oyster shells
to be penknifed for their pearls? ’…
or - does it fill your heart with joy
as if someone had given you
a golden key to a secret garden
which is all you ever hoped for;
more than you could ever imagine…
and yet you recognise
it’s all really just yourself? …
In the corner of your room
there's a little girl curled up
in a large armchair, reading a book.
Don't disturb her.
The book she reads with all her self today,
may never read again, doesn't need to -
is a metaphor for
all she needs to know today
about the world, about herself;
she finishes the book,
closes it thoughtfully,
looks up at you;
she knows herself
a little more today.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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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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Rumi passed by here today
like a blank page, then
gold dust lightly scattered over it
then a soft breeze blows it away
but nothing is lost
for there was nothing to be gained;
enough, that you were here;
for you don't need to pursue a metaphor
when - see! - the metaphor is god, is world;
you don't need to convince us of anything
that we don't already know
just a reminder that this is
how it is;
a smile in passing;
your gold dust scattered;
for a moment
we are your beauty.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Poem Is A Metaphor/ Isn't It?
A POEM IS A METAPHOR/ ISN’T IT?
A poem is a metaphor
Isn’t it?
Aren’t we all poems?
Aren’t we all metaphors?
Aren’t we all what we are not?
And what we know we have been and not been?
And what we will be and not be?
Aren’t we all metaphors?
And aren’t we all poems?
And aren’t we all words, just words,
And not?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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There are few things as toxic as a bad metaphor. You can't think without metaphors.
quote by Mary Catherine Bateson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The world is emblematic. Parts of speech are metaphors because the whole of nature is a metaphor of the human mind.
quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For I Am A Metaphor
'For i am a Metaphor
For i am free as a bird
wiser than wise itself
brighter than a sun gama ray
FOR I AM A METAPHOR
for i love like the word
think like einstein
dream like Martin
FOR I AM A METAPHOR
For i smell like success
Achieve like achievers
and soar like number 23
FOR I AM A METAPHOR
for i deliver like mailmen
determine like focus
and prosper like underdogs
FOR I......AM.....A METAPHOR'
By: Kottrell Johnson
poem by Kottrell Johnson
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Maple Leaves
All the leaves on the maple trees
are fiery red in the fall.
To see one in fall's glory
before the wintry call
is to witness nature's beauty
before the leaves fly away.
Then our eyes much adjust to barky limbs
for the fiery red can't stay.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Changing Colour
The varied shades of grey of late,
Which have my palette been,
Are fading now through patient wait,
Revealing colours yet unseen.
Tones that glare with brightest hue,
Now occupy my prism,
Shafts of light enrich my view,
And sink my atavism.
poem by Greg Costello
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Are There Words For The Discontent I Feel Now?
ARE THERE WORDS FOR THE DISCONTENT I FEEL NOW?
Are there words for the discontent I feel now?
Is there a way of saying each and every minor and major irritation?
The human being lives and dies
With so much ugliness unsaid
Even in himself.
Why am I complaining now
When I have so much to be grateful for?
Why is the sun suddenly shining now
While the pain of the cold rain still shakes my bones with endless madness?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Cloudy Daze
You are my sunshine on a cloudy day
You gimme love and laughter when skies are grey
You are my sunshine on a cloudy day
You gimme love and laughter when skies are grey
You are my sunshine on a cloudy day
You are my sunshine on a cloudy day
You're there with me at my darkest hour
You fill my arms with the brightest flowers
You lift me up with the things you say
You are my sunshine on a rainy day
I wanna feel your arms in a warm embrace
I wanna see your love written on your face
And as time goes by
You'll be my sunshine on a cloudy day
You are my sunshine on a cloudy day
You gimme love and laughter when skies are grey
You are my sunshine on a cloudy day
You gimme love and laughter when skies are grey
Today! Today!
song performed by by Bang!
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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