"similie" poems
You're the first person I think about when I wake up from my dreams.
Like the sun warms the earth, you warm my skin.
Like the birds sing to the waking world, your tired voice tugs a string in my heart that makes me smile.
Like the smell of freshly baked bread, you're the pleasant aroma that makes my mouth water and leaves me wanting more of you.
Like the color of the sky at dawn, you make me glad that God made you so beautiful, without flaw.
You're my sanity.
You're my saving grace.
You're my answer.
You're my angel.
You're my reason.
You're my revival.
You're my best friend.
You're my better half.
You're so much more than the woman of my dreams.
Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 6:22 AM UTC
Byron enjoyed the feedback on his first run at poetry and asked me to extend his appreciation to you. As he said, "Thank 'em for me."
That lead to a discussion on some of the figures of speech he innately used in his pig roast invitation. I seized the moment to explain that a similie was an indirect comparison using words such as "like," or "as."
"Oh, like, you're a ********
We moved on to metaphors.
"Oh, you are a ********
If we should get to it,
Anthropomorphism will pretty much sum up the Byronic universe
A hero.
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 7:42 PM UTC
A simile is like a metaphor.
A metaphor is a similie,
Except if it forgot "like" or "as"
A similie is like checkers,
The rules are simple, easy to follow.
A metaphor is chess,
Complex and intricate.
Think of a simile as the store brand
A metaphor is the name brand
Of anything.
Metaphors are tests for the mind,
They make you visualize
Bear Mountain.
Similies are like little suggestions,
They point you in the right direction,
The Mountain was big like a bear.
Both important,
Both fun!
I like similies
Metaphores are love.
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 10:26 PM UTC
Love is a metaphor for a metaphor. or sometimes
a simile can be like a metaphor which it is, without u
uncertaintybWith certain doubts but only in the literal
sense of the word which is Love. And love is meataphor
for a metaphor. or sometimes a simiie can be like a meta
phor which it is, without uncertainty With certain doubts
but only in the literal sense of the word which is love. And
love is a metaphor for a metaphor or sometimes a similie can
be like a metaphor which it is without uncertainty With
certain doubts but only in the literal sense of the word
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 6:33 AM UTC
There's a magical place in the forest
Where fairies go to cultivate
Flutter around with verses and rhyme
Sweet poetry they make
They frolic amongst the
Verbs and nouns
Plucking flowers and synonyms
Joining hands and ripe phrases
Create odes they want to sing
Cross pollinating the pieces of poetry
With different story lines
Fertilizing with a purpose
In the growing of the rhyme.
Their dainty feet
Sow similie seeds,
And their deft little hands
Root out mispelled weeds.
Then they whisper the words to the
passing breeze
Who takes words, caresses them,
And floats with ease.
They travel and roam
Off to distant pastures new
Where they settle
And blossom into a muse.
Then implant in the mind
Of a resting poet
Enter his thoughts and views
Who upon waking
Will stretch, smile and write,
And continue to grow and enthuse.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
I once met an Englishman
I liked calling him Sir
for he was no ordinary Englishman
His name was Meta Phor
He loved his darling wife
though she dressed a bit silly
together they enjoyed their life
He and his Similie
In time they had a baby girl
naming her, got into a twirl
Ouch! Omanatopoeia was her name
Oh, what a shame, what a shame
Going to school it would pain
being called that , time n again
I wish she chooses a name anew
hope her parents she doesn't sue..
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 10:17 AM UTC
***A Similie is like Clear Waters
Metaphor is Quantum Physics***
Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 1:53 AM UTC
This poem is short and sweet,
like a strawberry plant.
This poem will be over before you know it,
just like you.
Mar 24, 2011
Mar 24, 2011 at 3:19 AM UTC
god almighty, it really has become that,
constipated writers inc.,
you can see them bargain hunt
the next big word - big word among
very simple narrative, stands out
like a christmas tree in a forest
of anorexic pine - they've started the
conveyor belt of horse eye shutters
so they can be reined in on the basis of
some puppet voodoo via the hindu
muses of brahman, it's a 'down the line'
moment: a does what a can only do,
and b does what b can only do,
given c is the process by which
a does what a does prior to not doing it,
like b, which does what b does prior to not
doing it;
me? well i too wish i was an english literature
or a journalism university drop out,
the hard man, the one who left school
at 16 without any qualifications,
started a record company, signed mike
oldfield believing that tubular bells would
be the basis for the soundtrack to both
halloween and the exorcist
(1973, 1978 and 1974 respectively) -
but they're just coming out of these institutions
with institutional verse - they're bothered
and conscious of techniques, they know
why and when to use a metaphor,
they care about saying a maxim about a similie,
they do everything by the rubric as if poetry
was a multiplication table worth memorising,
they write about thirty words a piece
in order that someone might write a 10,000 word
essay playing surgeon on them, cutting them
up to such a bare minimum that you could
almost learn kabbalah inside-out -
but i did graduate with a chemistry degree
unfortunately, and that makes me no hard man,
but i did masacre a bottle of absinthe
at about ~96% in one night and got annoyed
at not being drunk enough - yeah... hard as
they come... nothing to be proud of in all
honesty... yes all that sugar on spoon, bit
of absinthe on sugar and inferno - then some
water to dilute the absinthe and make it
milky green (czech absinthe doesn't turn milky,
some additive is missing, i can't remember) because
i have this one point to make: over-analysing
poetic expression, being conscious of poetic
techniques, in general orthodoxy is so ******
tedious that you begin to put faith in free verse...
that splendour of spontaneity like fireworks set off
un-expectedly on guy fawkes night giving you a startle.
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 7:23 AM UTC
I once met an Englishman
I liked calling him Sir
for he was no ordinary Englishman
His name was Meta Phor
He loved his darling wife
though she dressed a bit silly
together they enjoyed their life
He and his Similie
In time they had a baby girl
naming her, got into a twirl
Ouch! Omanatopoeia was her name
Oh, what a shame, what a shame
Going to school it would pain
being called that , time n again
I wish she chooses a name anew
hope her parents she doesn't sue...
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 5:50 AM UTC