(love is like)
Love is like a painting
filled with all colours and shades
love is like a bleeding heart
...
My father is a quiet man
With sober, steady ways;
For simile, a folded fan;
His nights are like his days.
...
A pretty girl
is like a simile
and vice-a-versa
so I'd say
...
NO more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk.
A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith!
We ought to have our Abbey back, you see.
It's different, preaching in basilicas,
...
If one could bridge the distance with a word,
A journey would become a pilgrimage.
Elegant letters slant across the page.
My leaf has found a home upon your coat.
...
When the swordsman fell in Kurosawa's Seven Samurai
in the gray rain,
in Cinemascope and the Tokugawa dynasty,
he fell straight as a pine, he fell
...
Intoxicated by the inspiration
Of his trade—
With mental powers at work,
A true poet rarely sleeps.
...
One thing that literature would be greatly the better for
Would be a more restricted employment by the authors of simile and
metaphor.
Authors of all races, be they Greeks, Romans, Teutons or Celts,
...
"Oh, dear, with the just unfolded tender leaflets of Mango trees as his incisive arrows, and with shining strings of honeybees as his bowstring, the assailant named Vasanta came very nigh, to afflict the hearts of those that are fully engaged in affairs of lovemaking...
"Oh, dear, in Vasanta, Spring, trees are with flowers and waters are with lotuses, hence the breezes are agreeably fragrant with the fragrance of those flowers, thereby the eventides are comfortable and even the daytimes are pleasant with those fragrant breezes, thereby the women are with concupiscence, thus everything is highly pleasing...
...
Dear Thomas, didst thou never pop
Thy head into a tin-man's shop?
There, Thomas, didst thou never see
('Tis but by way of simile)
...
('Regno, Phylum, Classe, Ordine, Famiglia, Genere, Specie')
A piedi nella boscaglia, nel tardo pomeriggio: tortuosi percorsi di
Primavera fra Plantae et Animalia.
...
LA DIVINA COMMEDIA di Dante Alighieri INFERNO
Inferno: Canto I
...
Ne Rubeam, Pingui donatus Munere
(Horace, Epistles II.i.267)
While you, great patron of mankind, sustain
The balanc'd world, and open all the main;
...
You never heard tell of the story?
Well, now, I can hardly believe!
Never heard of the honour and glory
Of Pardon, the son of Reprieve?
...
What did we say to each other
that now we are as the deer
who walk in single file
with heads high
...
Christopher Robin and Pooh walked slowly down the path in the woods, treading on the occasional crackly twig.
'CR...' said Pooh, 'What's a Poeh Tree? Is it the same as a Poem, or a hum? '
...
Phoebus, sitting one day in a laurel-tree's shade,
Was reminded of Daphne, of whom it was made,
For the god being one day too warm in his wooing,
She took to the tree to escape his pursuing
...
I saw you yesterday with that brave smile on your face, and it cut
I tried to look your way with a reassuring smile, but still it cut into me
Both of us now, you with the tears fought back, me with a heart that could so easily crack, as I saw you yesterday with that brave look upon your face
...
Sighting her in opposite mirror
Like a boundless poetic mirage
Finding no words I surrender
To the beauty unfolding its image
...
LA DIVINA COMMEDIA
di Dante Alighieri
PURGATORIO
...
[Scene, the 'Snuggery' at Tappington.-- Grandpapa in a high-backed cane-bottomed elbow-chair of carved walnut-tree, dozing; his nose at an angle of forty-five degrees,--his thumbs slowly perform the rotatory motion described by lexicographers as 'twiddling.'--The 'Hope of the family' astride on a walking-stick, with burnt-cork mustachios, and a pheasant's tail pinned in his cap, solaceth himself with martial music.-- Roused by a strain of surpassing dissonance, Grandpapa Loquitur. ]
Come hither, come hither, my little boy Ned!
Come hither unto my knee--
...
Difficile est proprie communia dicere
HOR. Epist. ad PisonI
Bob Southey! You're a poet--Poet-laureate,
And representative of all the race;
...
'Tis not that I design to rob
Thee of thy birthright, gentle Bob,--
For thou art born sole heir and single
...
Every moment i live with an eternal flame that adorns my soul with ineffable bliss, The apex enchantment for a mortal man.
Every moment I hear rhapsodic undulations of her omnipotent voice. infallible arrows of her emphatic prattle pierce my soul millions of time. Her subtle voice still dwells deep down I swear.
...
See, where on high the moving masses, piled
By the wind, break in groups grotesque and wild,
Present strange shapes to view;
...
The world has lost the ear for rhyme.
It still makes children squirm with pleasure;
and from some witty pens and minds, its fireworks fizz;
so, after all these centuries of rhyme
...
IN His blest name, who was His own creation,
Who from all time makes making his vocation;
The name of Him who makes our faith so bright,
Love, confidence, activity, and might;
...
The leaves that in the lonely walks were spread,
Starting from off the ground beneath the tread,
Coursed o'er the garden-plain;
...
Help how much my heart hurts
my mouth is as dry as a desert
my throught is sore
my voice is a goner
...
'There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which,--taken at the flood,'--you know the rest,
And most of us have found it now and then;
At least we think so, though but few have guess'd
...
In going from room to room in the dark,
I reached out blindly to save my face,
But neglected, however lightly, to lace
...
Oh, Wellington! (or 'Villainton'--for Fame
Sounds the heroic syllables both ways;
France could not even conquer your great name,
But punn'd it down to this facetious phrase-
...
The earth is a poem
dust of word from soil
comma of rustling river
moving like sentences
...
HE.
Halt here awhile. That mossy-cushioned seat
Is for your queenliness a natural throne;
As I am fitly couched on this low sward,
...
61 Farmers
Sons of soil who answer
The plea of human hunger
...
I create and destroy
I am the wheel sunk in the mud
I am the path and the clouded dust
I am you
...
Tho' much averse, dear Jack, to flicker,
To find a likeness for friend V----ker,
I've made, thro' earth, and air, and sea,
...
I feel like a train sometimes
that can't get no locomotin.'
My wheels lumber
...
I'm through with this grand looking-glass hotel
where adjectives play croquet with flamingo nouns;
methinks I shall absent me for a while
from rhetoric of these rococo queens.
...
I can feel she has got out of bed.
That means it is seven a.m.
I have been lying with eyes shut,
thinking, or possibly dreaming,
...
It is uniquely easy
For some to sell
Ideals because
Business of absent
...
Note: These poem excerpts are my independent works based on the story material of the Sanskrit poetic work ‘Megha Dootam'(Cloud Messenger) by Poet Great Kaali Daasa- 5th century AD
1
...
A poem should be -
stop right there, chum. You’ve hit
the target in four words.
...
In the year when Muhammad Khovarezm Shah concluded peace with the king of Khata to suit his own purpose, I entered the cathedral mosque of Kashgar and saw an extremely handsome, graceful boy as described in the simile:
Thy master has taught thee to coquet and to ravish hearts,
Instructed thee to oppose, to dally, to blame and to be severe.
...
Another hero of those youthful years
Returns, as Noey Bixler's name appears.
And Noey--if in any special way--
...
A Scholar is musing on his want of success.
To strive—and fail. Yes, I did strive and fail;
I set mine eyes upon a certain night
...
WHAT time our Lord still walk'd the earth,
Unknown, despised, of humble birth,
And on Him many a youth attended
(His words they seldom comprehended),
...
Revolving in their destin'd sphere,
The hours begin another year
As rapidly to fly;
Ah! think, Maria, (e'er in grey
...
Ierne's now our royal Care:
We lately fix'd our Vice--roy there.
How near was she to be undone,
Till pious Love inspir'd her Son!
...
But shall we take the Muse abroad,
To drop her idly on the road,
And leave our subject in the middle,
As Butler did his Bear and Fiddle?
...
LONG had I sought in vain to find
A likeness for the scribbling kind;
The modern scribbling kind, who write
...
The wall-trees are laden with fruit;
The grape, and the plum, and the pear,
The peach and the nectarine, to suit
...
All seemed delighted, though the elders more,
Of course, than were the children.--Thus, before
Much interchange of mirthful compliment,
...
It little profits that, an idle man,
On this worn arch, in sight of wasted halls,
I mope, a solitary pelican,
...
It was a gathering of the Metaphors
who likened all things
to all other things
never identifying Essences;
...
I wanted something
Eastern European, you know,
something portentous
in the best sense of the word,
...
‘A golden evening; and we watched
the sun sink slowly below the horizon
like a golden dime
into a flaming jukebox’..
...
The Poets all march to the edge-
some perching
at the abyss of Screaming Desire;
Hearts exploding
...
A WANDERER, Wilson, from my native land,
Remote, O Rae, from godliness and thee,
Where rolls between us the eternal sea,
...
Tway Mice, full Blythe and Amicable,
Batten beside Erle Robert's Table.
Lies there ne Trap their Necks to catch,
...
...see your words
verbal manifestation of thoughts
portraits painted with syllables
of sensuous simile and meaningful metaphor
...
I coddle these Broken Verbs
hold them to light
to see if they will move me
beyond this adjectival, noun less state.
...
Note: These poem excerpts are my independent works based on the story material of the Sanskrit poetic work ‘Megha Dhootham’(Cloud Messenger) by Poet Great Kaali Daasa- 5th centuary AD
(Please read the previous parts before reading this)
...
I wanted to write a poem with a simile,
and tried for a long while.
Somewhere, somehow, it lost an 'i'
and all I had left was a smile.
...
I got used to being a verb
usually transitive of course
holding lovers, moving mountains
rushing about banging into things
...
She had the rusty confidence of an older woman
who had fixed her mirror at 23
no later images allowed
as she took in my face
...
If we assume that every third house is logical
it follows that there’s literature in abundance
on the subject of steamer trunks of the kind
that one might find in every fourth house. She
...
To fix a headlock on a
metaphor, or
clamp a full nelson on a
...
I would like to re-submit this exhaustive list of terms associated with poetry and hope that members will make use of the list to understand different kinds of poetry in a better way.
...
I love ancient minds, the grandiose
thoughts of bygone tale-tellers, their
sense of awe, infusing all they saw
with supernatural significance and
...
Tho' Rhyme serves the Thoughts of great Poets to fetter,
It sets off the Sense of small Poets the better.
...
Here and there in oysters fall
A single grain of sand
Producing later a lustrous ball
In a fisher man’s hand
...
Word-lit dreams
Waxed colourful
Waning to a blank decline
Recuperate, wax again
...
From the mundane experience
Of this monotonous stale life,
You all take us to a fanciful
World of love, affection, anger.
...
Your two or many poems
You need to edit it...
as too many repetitions
make the prosaic poem
...
_ Good morning _
In this autumnal wantonness
Where my mind flows with indifferent airy dream,
...
Like a door, I'm poor at metaphor, and very bad with simile.
I'm more than just a little off on my rhymability.
My mother, the existentialist, has never cared for meaning.
...
She and the fire
fight adjectives. Their concreteness
deflects reification
...
Might it be a pool or wishing well
with rainbow ripples round it wound
within an enchanted cosmic dell
of a fabulous world newfound—
...
Jitni bhi ho tareef woh har hal mein kam hay,
(How much may bt quantum of praise it is not sufficient)
Midhat ho Muhammad ki to rukta na qualam hay,
(Although if it is praise of Muhammad the pen never stops)
...
Life is like a flower
When you don't know that hour
You stood so bold and tall
Then within a blink you fall
...
A poem is a tale that is set to rhyme,
Preferably, to some, it meters time.
But some people just write whatever in the world
they want without any rules whatsoever.
...
I wonder if your simile
Will be cute as me?
I wonder if your eyes
Will be bright as the stars?
...
May I make a pen picture?
I've seen you, though not seen.
Don't get worried, not a lecture,
Just a poem, neat and clean.
...
Come on and grab my hand
Be the first quatrain of my poem
You just start with a simile
I shall finish with a metaphor
...
The language of poetry is metaphor
And irony and ambiguity
And beauty-
...
Thanne hadde Wit a wif, was hote Dame Studie,
That lene was of lere and of liche bothe.
She was wonderly wroth that Wit me thus taughte,
...
...
Horrid, unwieldly, without form,
Savage, as ocean in a storm,
Of size prodigious, in the rear,
...
From his far wigwam sprang the strong North Wind
And rush'd with war-cry down the steep ravines,
And wrestl'd with the giants of the woods;
...
I'd love to write a poem for you
Want to make it good
I want it to be romantic
As you might think it should
...
The words they would not come
They were stuck inside of me like prisoners of war
Deprived of daily senses stored in some dark dungeon
I wanted to speak but silence prevailed
...
Let hireling Poets ply their venal Lays,
The Great, the Pow'rful, and the Rich, to praise;
...
She's Simile like a simile
Like rose and its thorn so merrily
But at times dreadfully
Verily verily
...
I do not have a dream space
as do other people I know.
My dream space
...
Truthful and right, a sun so bright,
A heavenly light, no simile for Muhammad,
It could only be described, Holy Book when I cribbed,
On my heart it's inscribed, no simile for Muhammad,
...
'All the world's a stage
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts.'
...
She was liked and loved by all,
A charming lady who was gorgeous and graceful,
Slowly she spoke and slowly she walked,
Always well dressed,
...