#metaphorical poems on Hello Poetry

Kayla Burke Sep 10

Too Ugly to Stay, Too Beautiful to Ignore

To be born into a world so lackluster, so intent on stripping away dreams, individuality, and creativity — it should be criminal to tell those who fall victim that they are not normal. To encourage them to hold onto those very things — dreams, individuality, and creativity. Is it not hypocritical to tell those born with such gifts that they must use them to the fullest, while existing within a society built to ***** out those gifts and holders of such? Calling upon such people as too emotional, weird, out of touch, and or eccentric, in a way that offends, is a hypocrisy often ignored.

I am offensive, in the ways that rain is offensive on a hot day; some breathe a sigh of relief, others curse the timing of my arrival. I come to offer a refreshing view, a clean slate, a new beginning. But I can be strong — strong enough to sweep away the things I love. I remind you to cherish what stands, before the world swallows it whole. And though once gone, I will dig a hole, and I will fill it with myself, offering a new life to those who come next.

I am as offensive as a puppy jumping at the legs of a passerby; some smile and pet me, while others shrug me off, annoyed by my lack of control and my lack of boundaries. But the childlike wonder carried by those who have been touched by the darkest entities — that wonder is one of the most beautiful things on Earth. Having seen the darkness in this life, and perhaps the lives before, I will always remain a puppy.

The beauty of life would not be beautiful without the ugly.

I am too ugly.
I am the mud beneath your shoe.
I am the wasp buzzing too near.
I am the coffee stain on your work pants — always noticed, yet never welcomed to stay.

And yet I am the wind that blows the yellow, orange, and red leaves across your yard after a long day — reminding you to breathe.

Through the chaos, there are beautiful moments to be held.
Those who carry chaos offer the most peaceful moments, unbeknownst to most.

I am deep and vast as the Pacific Ocean — crashing upon the rocks one day,
Sitting idle on the sand, the next,
A being of stagnancy, yet a being of ever-changing and constantly in motion.
I can swallow things whole, keep them hidden within me for lifetimes.
Or I can choose to unearth them — share them with the shore.
Let myself be seen by those I once feared, of polluting me.

or, the burden of being deeply felt

#prose #prosepoem #rawemotion #metaphorical

Odd Odyssey Poet Aug 31

Breath as Feather

My breath, light as feather, words like dust—find it best
not to speak too much, lest I seem soft as a feather duster.
Dreams of a perfect body, shadowed by many premonitions,
permissions granted only by the mountains where I took life
by the heel—miswriting heal, and climbing that endless hill
toward closure.

I saw a fish in a teardrop, a sad smile crossing its face; and it
weighed the world on its scales. The river’s currents glistened
with depression— so I pushed upstream, crying a mountain’s
worth of water.

I fought not to wash myself away, lying beneath it all, while
an angel kissed my twisted hair; locked my thoughts in place.
Perfectly ready to die, dancing to a song of reoccurring suicide,
a melody only I could hear. Must entail the full act of dying,
feel the strings beneath your fingers— chords played in secret,
as if David himself taught me the strum. To be an instrument
to a horn, to hone your skills, to feel like a big man someday.

Think of this the next time someone says, “Yeah, I’m okay.”
So much hidden, beneath that quiet syllable, an entire ocean
of grief swallowed in one breath.

#surrealpoetry #wordplay #mentalhealth #emotionaldepth #existential #lifeanddeath #dreamimagery #metaphorical #freeverse #introspective

W St Dymphna Aug 30

Yearning for spring

I yearn for spring
so to spring I cling
but now fall has arrived
and I’ve been deprived
of the hot summer sun
by constantly trying to run
back to when everything was fine
back to when my reflection was mine
by being stuck in what once was
I made happiness a lost cause

#spring #metaphorical #growing #healing

Reece Aug 24

Monotonous Mountain of Molasses

Most have a monotonous mountain of molasses,
And, I hear they’re returning in masses.
Always viscous and vicious to prevent one’s escape.
We’re all just pawns in their grand game.
To bind us, tantalize us, and break us repeatedly.
Lie, bribe, and shatter our fleeting sense of security.
To lull us into a slumber meant for us to lose our dreams,
And then wake up and wonder what we’re meant to be.
It comes in many forms, and it’s called by many names,
All of them referring to the same sordid pile of shame.

Try as we might to escape unscathed,
Only to be bound and beaten until nothing but a husk remains.
The molasses surrounds us, pummeling us into the ground.
As we cry for help, but there’s no one around.
For they’re dealing with their own malicious mount,
Gagging us with worries to drown out every sound.
We struggle, although muffled, we try to overcome,

But even if we win, the battle isn’t won.
When we defeat a mountain, another swiftly takes its place.
This new one could be worse, as it grabs you in a devouring embrace.
You’ll overcome it; it’s a given, as many have before you.
But these battles, rest assured, will take your will to see them through.
These monotonous mountains are tenacious and cruel,
The molasses, so viscous, an evil witch’s brew.
Don’t think it’s honey, it isn’t nearly as sweet,
And don’t have the audacity to accept defeat.
It won’t be easy, after all, it is a war,
But one you can win with your shield and sword.

So, when you see a monotonous mountain of molasses,
Take solace, knowing full well you have the tools to surpass it!

Here's your hopeful optimism!

#short #molasses #metaphorical #general #witty #optimistic #hopeful #mountain #monotonous

Reece Aug 5

Bad Blood

I once was kidnapped by Dracula,
He took me to his castle in Transylvania,
Which, by the way, is in Romania,
In case you didn’t know.
He chained me to the wall,
Slapped me, cutting me with his claws,
Before he decided to withdraw,
And sit on his throne.
I said,
“I think there’s a misunderstanding between us.
This bad blood isn’t anything serious,
Sure, I was wrong for being too envious,
But, please, don’t do anything heinous.
I’ll apologize,
Just spare my life,
Is this quarrel worth a fight?
Let’s rationalize instead.”
Dracula laughed,
Lightning cracked,
Followed by a thunderclap,
As if the world were terrified.
He walked over and held my face,
Squeezing it tightly, causing me pain,
He smiled, showing off his bloodied fangs.
I started to cry.
He said,
“You think this is just bad blood,
Like when a loving couple breaks up?
You’re tempting me with that smell of strawberry,
And I’m fighting the urge to feed on your blood.
This isn’t some game you play,
You said some awful things,
But when I bite back, you claim an attack,
And suddenly I’m the one who’s deranged?”
He laughed,
I didn’t talk back.
He was right, I was wrong,
I had been all along.
And now I was face to face,
With the monster I created, due to my mistakes.

Don't mess with Dracula; he's obsessed with karma.

#short #metaphorical #dracula #transylvania #allegory #blood #story

xia Jul 29

oxford comma

I am but punctuation to your wonder;
though not the important kind.
The optional kind.
The forgotten kind.

#punctuation #metaphorical #lonliness #insignificance #importance

Amoeba Jul 24

Cheap theatre, Cheap movie..

Cheap theatre, cheap movie, that's how we begin, With patched-up dreams and secondhand skin, We take our seats in the flickering light, Hoping a broken story might still feel right.

The sound cracks, the script falls apart, But we stay, clapping with half-open hearts, The heroes stumble, the endings fray, Still we laugh and we cry and we stay.

No refunds, no rewinds, no better show, Just the slow unraveling we pretend we know, The ticket was cheap but the cost runs deep, We pay with the promises we couldn't keep.

Cheap theatre, cheap movie, our messy design, Crooked dreams projected on borrowed time, And maybe just maybe that's all we need, A cracked-up world where we still believe..

This isn’t about a movie, it’s about how we live. We sit in life’s cheap theatre, watching dreams on a flickering screen, hoping broken stories still make sense. The cracks in the sound, the failed lines, that’s us pretending it’s fine. It’s not the price we paid but what we lost to keep believing.

#existential #metaphorical #modern #poetry #raw #emotions #life #and #loss #broken