Poem #76: The Hourglass
This poem is about freedom, discovering ourselves, and is a metaphor for what we as humans are tied to that is both necessary and unnecessary. _the hourglass_ the sounds of an hourglass are small, but exist.
Bitter Sweet
It makes me think if heaven and hell are simply metaphors for such a thought. to me, i taste bitter sweet.
A poets peace.
A feeling towards it, dimly sensing a rhythm, is all we have until we begin to utter its metaphors, learning them as we speak.
13 Ash
#13 of inktober 2019 getting metaphorical again with the prompt of the day. yes, i did have someone in mind when i wrote this, and this was rather cathartic to get on paper.
Say-m...
"coasting is as it should be in the end" "be it mountains, or plains as far as can be seen, it's all another metaphorical bend" - - - thanks for reading - - -
Revisiting...
, still grow from the moments harsh, or rotten the slivers of light among the dark make trails back to better places back to warm fond moments, back to happiness on many faces so cold any room, if you let bad thoughts be give slack to a hurting back, metaphorical
Based on the American patriot st.Rob Macwolf
Fuck me for musing about a metaphor for the way i feel about living in the country that i live in and neglect and insult the others i guess?''
slutever: a found poem of her words
My favorite, though. are the supernatural. and the metaphorical psychological impulses tracing through live wires. and blessing me with surrealistics in action its wonderful getting to know a strangers neuroses.
Alone Among The Monsters
This poem explains, in metaphor, why that is, and the results of my poor experiences with other christians, who, despite all of their supposed values, judge me not by my heart but by my outward appearance, quiet nature, or anything else that's not my heart
Watershed
Here in this metaphorical darkness, saphire was able to ponder her own secrets. a puphood lost in the lonesomeness of an orphanage, that never had a shortage of pups to be pitied.
Hello again...
Not sure what's left to find puzzls missing pieces are hard to peacefully complete the walls seem to sway slightly, they must be breakable, but at such a thought, turn concrete something is waiting outside, of what, i'm still uncertain the door left metaphoric
Burned on the Fourth of July
It would turn out to be a line of fire in truth as well as in metaphor, as hector's sneeze produced not a mist of spittle, but a gout of flame, which would've seared both monty and his cellular phone.