0003 Similes, Metaphors and stuff (2)
Isn’t it strange, this thing called
Poetry – and even stranger, these things
called similes and metaphors, which are
the very essence of what poetry
uses to try to get to us?
Look! Over there, in that field! Did you
see it?
No, what?
A hare! Never seen one before! It’s
hiding in the grass now – there! It’s jumped up again!
watch it bounce up and down as it runs,
must have strong hind legs,
isn’t it funny? So fast, too – our dog will never catch it…
No I still didn’t see it, I was watching that beautiful
perfect V-formation of wild geese against the blue sky
over there, I wonder where they came from,
where they’re going? And does
their leader know and lead them, or
do they all know and they're
all on the same goosy wave-length and
they must be cleverer than us then,
how do they do that...?
You missed them, they're
out of sight now, so
we'll never know...I guess our dog
barking, set them off…
And so, our mind – that lively, scatty, playful, faithful dog,
chasing hares which catch our idling attention,
chasing wild geese which are out of reach,
barking up the wrong tree,
seeking with a wagging tail
the beautiful, elusive good;
Or, like Swami Vivekananda describes,
mind as monkey – restless, vain, vindictive,
agile, watchful, quick to move,
never quite at rest – and worse,
intoxicated, selfish, full of pride; and
worse again – cunning, drunken, angry,
inventing enemies in its divided mind –
Similes for one thing like another,
metaphors for situations which
connect in depth of mind like
crossword clues which finally
illuminate – ah yes, now I see
what it’s getting at…and
we're into a world of enchantment where
the word makes all Creation one, and new...
Like parables, they take us deeper, subtly
tease the mind, and then dart round and past it
like wingers on the football field
thrilling our attention, their joyous goal
touching our heart with the adventure and
pointing it towards a boundless love;
similes, metaphors, homely proverbs, parables –
more difficult than thinking, easier than thought,
magic.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Mind Games
Swaami Vivekaananda describes
the restless, vain, vindictive human mind
as monkey: agile, watchful, quick to move,
yet never quite at rest. And worse, we find -
intoxicated: selfish, full of pride,
that agile mind sent spinning into pain,
the boundless universe turned tiny box,
Man's measure never known. And worse again -
this cunning, drunken monkey's angry; stung
by his own scorpion bite: and so invents
his bitter enemies, their role assigned;
the human race divided by...our mind.
And thus the mindful Swaami with fine grace
reminds us - we're that godly human race...
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Spirit Of Poetry!
when a spirit of poetry decent,
it came
In a form of dove
When it came
Jesus became first poet under sun
And Almighty God
Was already, first poet over sun?
Using Poetry in poetic foam
Almighty GOD spoke through poetry
And he is a poet himself
Now his poetry is everywhere, and anywhere
We interact with poets
Words are like soil, are everywhere
Brighter that Sun
His poetic lights lead the way
When he likes
He will come
He will be in poetic foam
To Re-arrange poems
Schedule them in a poetic manner
On a judgment, He will met poets first
And secondly meet
Those who haven't written a poem
To Discuss similes, metaphors and personifications
Future of poetry is in heaven
poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You Know How To Mix The Oil And The Water
between the oil and the water
put the soap
or the common detergent
that is how they do it
in poetry it is not easy
to mix the oily feelings with the watery ones
and it is hard to check
which detergent to use
what is it that is having poetic sense?
between them and you
how do you get well along the lines of poetry?
who is the water and who is the oil?
and who is the detergent among the metaphors
and the similes?
takes time really.
at first we keep on writing these nonsense comparisons
trying to tell which one is best, better and good
which one is worse
but sooner you realize that this has nothing to do with comparisons
it has only something to do with the clicking of the right switch
to give light
to the dark room where we live, to give the sound of the singing bird,
to give that hush, to make us sleep soundly
on a soft pillow, and then dream in another world
where we do not talk but merely observe how the colors float
how they pass us by
and we are nothing but spectators always wanting to have no part
in everything
and that precisely is the light feeling
that makes the click
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You've Been On My Mind
(Rodney Crowell)
Guess it's time for me to say
Just how it is that I feel today
Today is just like any other day
'Cause you've been on my mind.
It really hasn't been that long
But it's funny where the time has flown
Mem'ries just keep holding on
And you been on my mind.
You been on my mind
Aometimes I think I must be going blind
I've seen a world baby, without you
But I don't see myself there too.
Hardly does a day go by
When I don't see your clear blue eyes
Many nights I just wonder why
And you been on my mind.
--- Instrumental ---
You've been on my mind so long
I've been thinking that something was wrong
I've told myself I should forget
But I don't seem to have it yet.
I don't dream that you might change
I don't think that I'm acting strange
I tell myself it's all in vain
And you been on my mind.
You've been on my mind I've said
Till it's all that's in my head
Yes, I know what I must do
But I don't think you'll be there too.
Guess it's time for me to go
But as it is I'll never know
Just what it is that I long for so
And you been on my mind...
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Clubwich: An Art Experience
lay the lettuce on the plate first
that damps down the sound
of the iceberg lettuce which can
disturb hearing aids
if you’re into fartsy additional veg
chop them up small and sprinkle
it saves the whole edifice deconstructing
when you take the pin out
then a slice say an inch thick
of wholemeal bread which
you’ve soaked in olive oil and lemon juice
and rubbed garlic across as if
you were ironing the curtains
of a dolls’ house
then throw the half-tin of tuna
or the salmon you’ve just caught
on the top since after all
that’s what you want to taste
so put it out front stage
and cover it with mayonnaise
bet you’re drooling at this point
maybe looking at your watch
then eat while looking at
a reproduction of a reproduction
of Andy Warhol’s priceless screenprint
of a Campbell’s soup tin
gratitude may arise
sheer poetry
simple sensual immediate
self-expression clearly communicated
practical copy it in your faves
slip it in your Pulitzer Christmas Cracker
in place of the joke did I say joke since it
touches the heart touches all our lives
and for once you’ve read
right to the end of a poem haven’t you and
I bet you’ll remember it longer than
the thirteenth verse of the Ancient Mariner
similes metaphors you want
similes and metaphors supply your own then
they’ll be fresher than mine and
more spontaneous more relevant
yes that’s what I call a real poem
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The poems I love
There are poems that I envy,
poems that I admire and respect,
poems that simply sing to me,
poems that I puzzle over…
but the poems I most love -
they may be jewelled and adorned
with adjectives and adverbs,
similes and metaphors, (but
they must be enlightening, relevant,
making mind and heart to expand
in sheer exhilaration)
or they may be so quietly, humbly carpentered
that they say, I’m simply here to serve you…
but they all say to me with
shining eyes, as if
the world made new in that moment,
‘Yes, I was there!
Join me there! ’
and their ‘there’ is here and now
and as great as the universe
and the heart that yearns.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Crazy Thoughts
Maybe I've gone crazy
Looking for too many words,
Maybe I've taken leave of my senses
Trying to speak, and be heard -
So many things I want to say
All in hopes to find
What I don't understand
About all the life that lives and moves in my mind -
The words all come out wrong
While what I'm truly searching for,
Laughs and dances like a madman
Out of my own hearts back door -
It's the damndest thing
Like running down an empty desert highway,
Chasing the vanishing point
That's always going farther and farther away -
Does that rainbow's beautiful end really reside
In the mountain paradise of the perfect Word;
Will I ever arrive at that elusive point
Where each beautiful thought I could never quite express
Shall finally be exquisitely said, and wholly heard?
To arrive is my crazy goal.
With great love to be there;
To finally and fully hear, and be heard,
To discover my own thoughts do matter,
And God really does care.
Crazy, indeed.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In Search Of Metaphors And Images To Express Yourself In A Poem
it is the expression that matters most.
it is the relational flow from the writer to the reader
the bond that is created anew, just like an ordinary conversation
one fine day.
why can't poetry be simple and direct? that is the question that poetry
asks
to itself, in itself.
the poet in us can be lost because of so much demands for the absurd,
this metaphor fits, this imagery is perfect, what is it?
you do not accept the sun and the moon and the stars.
cliches of their poetry. You do not show compassion for his feelings
of being abandoned
simply because there are no images that tickle your senses.
even if he jumps with joy, you do not relate to his joys
simply because the images are bland like
burger without the black pepper.
it is enough that one bleeds, one wants a listener, one wants to open
up to the world
Like a bud turning into a flower
(oh forgive this lousy metaphor
i am not a good poet somehow at imaging
at imagining.
Am not a camera.
My eyes are clumsy at details.
And my ears are not sensitive to sound of
beautiful words. They even hide behind my head under my hair.
And there is no compulsion for high highfalutin
Ivory towers of similes from the gods and goddesses of
Literature)
Why can't poetry be just an expression? Just that. A dialogue.
This one, this monologue.
It is enough that you write from the heart.
It is enough that you are true
(oh forgive me, can i be really
true to you? Do i have to be naked and tell you that i am beautiful?
Do i have to master the art of metaphorisms
to be your poet
for the night?)
Or is it that poetry is simply our hiding place
From this world of pain?
Or our chapel for our prayers
Or our playground where we can be children again?
I am tired of squeezing my brain in the quest of the perfect metaphor.
I have read what they have written.
I pretend i like them. They sound so well.
They must be poetry. Real poetry
Those that garner plaques.
Prizes from the jury.
Honestly, I do not understand a thing. Those poems of my idols.
But I read them just the same.
Hoping that I am in and be counted as one of the stars in those
Metaphoric Heavens.I watch every meteor that drops
to the ground. Their tails.
I am not a star. I am just a pebble.
And it is enough for me.
The poem says, just write me.
Don't squeeze your brain to have metaphors
To draw the images.
Just be yourself, and for God's sake if you have something to say
Just say it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It Is All In The Mind
think my dear, it is all in your mind
think beautiful
and you will be beautiful
think all the good things you have
and you will be good
think that you are this success and
you will surely be one, my dear
so why bother
about what this world has to say to you
it is you that matters
it is your mind your soul in you that shapes the contours
of your flesh and body
use your mind that way you use
all the wisdom in you
think about beauty, the truth, the good
focus your mind, change this cup, this saucer, this spoon
change this world of ash into flowers and butterflies
learn this art
this subjectivity, this feeling, this poetry
it is all in the mind
and matter is now bereft of power to hurt you
it is
the mind, the soul, the idea, so think some more
it is the real you, this rational you, think some more
with your beautiful mind, change this world of ash into
this garden of Eden
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You Been On My Mind
(rodney crowell)
Guess its time for me to say just how it is that I feel today
Today is just like any other day cause youve been on my mind
It really hasnt been that long but its funny where the time has flown
Old memories just keep holding on and you been on my mind
You been on my mind sometimes
I think I must be going blind
Ive seen a world baby without you
But I dont see myself there too
Hardly does a day go by when I dont see your clear blue eyes
Many night I just wonder why and you been on my mind
Youve been on my mind so long
Ive been thinking that something was wrong
Ive told myself I should forget
But I dont seem to have it yet
I dont dream that you might change I dont think that Im acting strange
I tell myself its all in vain and you been on my mind
Youve been on my mind Ive said
Till its all thats in my head
Yes I know what I must do
But I dont think youll be there too
Guess its time for me to go but as it is Ill never know
Just what it is that I long for so and you been on my mind
You been on my mind
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Beautiful Mind
A BEATIFUL MIND IS A VIRGIN MIND.A BEAUTIFUL MIND THINK NO EVIL.ABEAUTIFUL MIND IS PREACIOUS THAN DIAMOND.A BEAUTIFUL MIND LIVE IN PEACE LIKE DOVE IN THE SKY.A BEAUTIFUL MIND IS PURELIKE OLIVE OIL.A BEAUTIFUL MIND HAS NO PLACE FOR HATRED.A BEAUTIFUL MIND WILL ALWAYS THINK OF LOVE AND CARE AND NOT TO HURT.A BEAUTIFUL MIND WILL PUT A LIGHT IN THE WORLD THAT WILL BE BRIGTHER THAN DAY LIGHT.IF A THOUSAND PROBLEMS APPEARS, A BEAUTIFUL MIND WILL COME UP WIHT MILLIONS SOLUTION.
poem by Tijani Adebowale Destiny
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Language Scrum
It was a gathering of the Metaphors
who likened all things
to all other things
never identifying Essences;
leaving nothing as the core..
Similes arrived stating triumphantly that
they were superior to the merely metaphoric
and especially to the Gerunds.
The Nouns were enraged
claiming that they were the origins of things named
and all that could be named.
They all held the Dangling Participle in contempt
whose cohorts hung at the end of the table
speaking in sentences fragmenting.
The Pluperfect laid claim to wedding the Past
and Present
and to having had given birth to Language.
The Action Verbs demurred claiming that all history
depended upon them and their meanings and consequences.
'We are action' they said
'you are all after-thoughts and musings.'
So it was the Poetry Slam
the battle of the Language Parts
cogitating on sentences
and what they mean.
Metaphor opened saying 'poetry is contest-
a battle of words in the arena of created meaning-
designed to feed the brain, open the mind;
give sight to the blind.'
'We are all part of a wagon wheel
and each of us has only a spoken
truth.
'Yes' Simile said 'we are all like angry rose buds
trying to bloom.
Verbatim declared that all Poetry
was based on faith and faith alone.
Anything else was Untruth.
Gerund hung back claiming all meaning is hidden by
hidden meaning and that clarity was mystical.
So in the scrum, no one was able to find the ball.
And then they all went home.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poetry On The Chin
You gouged my mind's eye,
Tantalised all inner thought,
Shocked from unknown angles;
Sold me, told me cold,
Unfolded, moulded;
Shouldered any harbouring
Of empty morals.
You spun me round; undressed -
Pestered me with background riddle -
Piffle came to gleaning meaning.
And you stripped out prejudice - for none
Must exist in poetry,
Lest you close up an open mind
And f**k up as reader;
Lest your heart is not a bleeder -
It has to be - let it flush out
Upon your sleeve.
You lay apart my thinking brain
And let in the literary pickings of a
Great poetic phallus.
Yes, poetry can be callous.
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2010
poetry
poetry
poetry poetry poetry
poetry poetry poetry
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry
poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry poetry
poetry poetry poetry
poetry
poetry
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Imagination is the sixth sense
Without the help of imagination,
The future and the past cannot be seen;
Similes and metaphors are meaningless.
Parts under the clothes cannot be x-rayed.
Images from the screen cannot be fantasized.
Thinking and musing are stalled.
Judgments and beliefs are out of preview.
No intuition; no speculation.
Imagination is man's sixth sense.
07.06.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Infuse Life To Fly
The poet can take particle to the sky
And may infuse life in death to fly
Vicious verse will declare him a sly.
As long as there is glow in the sun
Poetry will keep the lives full of fun
Lovers of poetry exclaim “Well done! ”
Mind your words are lovely dark and deep
Welfare of the human beings do keep
Lofty thoughts of no use if sigh and weep
Mind over words as mirror of your thought
Vision, mission or poison have wrought
Let your readers never feel thoughts were bought
Vice or virtue boldly mark your verse
Metaphor or similes utter in terse
Grand style with cynicism is source of curse
Let not take the help of sacred poetry
To prove right injustice and bigotry
It is poet’s poetry to show gallantry
Who is in the world to protect poetry?
As we define it – is the voice of God
Time fears absence of essence calls it fraud.
Farce words, lewd thoughts seem shocking banality
Ribald passion eclipses its vitality
Need tempest to uproot urge of new gen with agility
Display your thoughts of a fragrant vase
That soothes the mind glare smile on the face
Such sorts of verve harbinger of grace.
poem by Shujaat Hussain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Barking Dog Inside Your Mind
it must be noisy
inside your mind
as you complain
about the barking
dog barking all
day long in your
lifetime,
and it must be
also unfair if
as you feel it,
you are always
the wrong tree
being barked
at,
so you are the
tree wronged
and i, this human
being writing
some lines for
a conversation,
shall always be
that barking dog
inside your
mind.
let us talk
let us exchange
places, or let us
settle for a little
compromise,
there is no dog,
and there is no
wrong tree,
onthe very first day
next year
at the very first hour,
let us talk,
as new friends,
let us begin again
as strangers
in a new place
wanting to know
what each street
is named after.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poetry is Everywhere
To all my friends who say –
Poetry is not my cup of tea,
I’d strongly recommend that
they watch “Dead Poet’s Society”.
Poetry is in your cup of tea,
poetry is in every wave of the sea,
poetry is in the song of a bird
poetry springs forth from each of your word.
Poetry is in the smile of a baby,
poetry is in the redness of a ruby,
poetry is the union of your heart and mind
poetry teaches you to be soft and kind.
Poetry is the song of your soul,
poetry reminds you of your life’s goal,
poetry is in a game of cricket,
poetry is in the sound of a cricket.
Imagine life without poetry -
What an empty life it would be!
Imagine a world without poetry -
What a dull place it would be!
09 June 2010
! 2: 50 pm
poem by Gita Ashok
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Last Thing On My Mind
Four o'clock in the morning
My mind's filled with a thousand thoughts of you
And how you left without warning
But looking back I'm sure you tried to talk it thorugh
Now I see it so clearly
We're together but living seperate lives
So I wanna tell you I'm sorry
Baby I can't find the words
But if I could, then you know I would, yeah yeah
No I won't let go, know what we can be
I won't watch my life, crashing down on me
Guess I had it all, right there before my eyes, yea
(Girl) I'm sorry now, you were the last thing on my mind
You carried me like a river
How far we've come still surprises me
And now I look in the mirror
Staring back is a man I used to be, with you
How I long for you, yea
No I won't let go, know what we can be
I won't watch my life, crashing down on me
Guess I had it all, right there before my eyes, yea
Oh I'm sorry now, you were the last thing on my mind
Girl I'm sorry I was wrong
could have been there
Should have been so strong
So I'm sorry
No I won't let go, know what we can be
I won't watch my live, crashing down on me
Guess I had it all, right there before my eyes, yea
(Girl) I'm sorry now, you were the last thing on my mind
I won't watch my life, crashing down on me
Guess I had it all, right there before my eyes, yea
(Girl) I'm sorry now, you were the last thing on my mind
On my mind
On my mind
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Slow Mind The Sleeping Mind
THE SLOW MIND THE SLEEPING MIND
The slow mind the sleeping mind
The mind that cannot move
Resists itself in these words.
But the desired poem
The true thing
Can it be made in this way?
When one goes away for a long time
Even from oneself
The return is difficult and awkward.
I have been away from Poetry
For only one long holiday day
And yet
It seems now a distant land
I am barely beginning to see.
These lines
Are another poem
About writing poetry
Which do not know
Whether they are real or not.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!