#methaphor - Hello Poetry

She claims she's seen a pink cow, And danced on rainbows—don't ask me how! Her stories stretch from here to Andromeda, She once sold moonlight in glass jars! ...But nope it's nonsense every time. Her tale of stories where nothing's ever true!

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Sep 10, 2024

Sep 10, 2024 at 9:51 AM UTC

jon-jubail-b-aquino

The Pathological Liar

She claims she's seen a pink cow, And danced on rainbows—don't ask me how! Her stories stretch from here to Andromeda, She once sold moonlight in glass jars! ...But nope it's nonsense every time. Her tale of stories where nothing's ever true!

6

crowd of tiny black birds one of them prettier than the rest feathers shimmering golden but when his brothers and sisters fly it remains below because you can't fly with wings made of gold

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Dec 12, 2015

Dec 12, 2015 at 2:49 PM UTC

yukiyuki

metal feathers

crowd of tiny black birds one of them prettier than the rest feathers shimmering golden but when his brothers and sisters fly it remains below because you can't fly with wings made of gold

6

It's hard to know which way the wind is going to blow And whether I will blow with or against it Weather is temperamental It has its own mentality - its own sovereignty. And in a sense, innately sentimental. How spring brings life - winter takes it. Season change with little reason Not strange in the grand scheme of things. Does it really matter how green the ground is? How blue the skyline? Does it harm us if it's not warm enough? What's enough? I don't know which way the wind is going to blow. But blow it will and maybe this time I'll blow with it.

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Nov 18, 2015

Nov 18, 2015 at 5:33 AM UTC

aar505n

Which Way Wind?

It's hard to know which way the wind is going to blow And whether I will blow with or against it Weather is temperamental It has its own mentality - its own sovereignty. And in a sense, innately sentimental. How spring brings life - winter takes it. Season change with little reason Not strange in the grand scheme of things. Does it really matter how green the ground is? How blue the skyline? Does it harm us if it's not warm enough? What's enough? I don't know which way the wind is going to blow. But blow it will and maybe this time I'll blow with it.

12

I will rub an extract of evil over the papers, I will dispatch my feelings through the electric wires. When The anger and fear beat the inside of me, When it is cold And empty. My abstract castle is unbreakable, Inside its tower there is a smell of a wild smoke. Fairies and mermaids do not exist here. Their false ensemble left a deposit On yellow pages of "News" and "Truth". Cocoon-rooms, detonator-heads, And a den of the hungry monster inside you. Intrigues are weaved by the city, Their dream is A blind chase after a dollar. I am counting the floors of a building, I am burning this life. I am spitting on a free ticket To a world raging in a gray palette. We continue to stir mirages, While time aimlessly runs, While the burning math flies over the petrol canister. A bitter moment Will not become sweeter with a handful of coins. I will go to the darkness, Which is inside me, To experience light.

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Apr 29, 2014

Apr 29, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC

astrotourist-al

An Extract of Evil

I will rub an extract of evil over the papers, I will dispatch my feelings through the electric wires. When The anger and fear beat the inside of me, When it is cold And empty. My abstract castle is unbreakable, Inside its tower there is a smell of a wild smoke. Fairies and mermaids do not exist here. Their false ensemble left a deposit On yellow pages of "News" and "Truth". Cocoon-rooms, detonator-heads, And a den of the hungry monster inside you. Intrigues are weaved by the city, Their dream is A blind chase after a dollar. I am counting the floors of a building, I am burning this life. I am spitting on a free ticket To a world raging in a gray palette. We continue to stir mirages, While time aimlessly runs, While the burning math flies over the petrol canister. A bitter moment Will not become sweeter with a handful of coins. I will go to the darkness, Which is inside me, To experience light.

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