Tag: metaphor
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Confetti
Taken in.Scattered vim,Like confetti to the wind,Empty palmof sallow skin,Cold and thinfrom a tiredness that’s hunkered inthe very core of everything.What is this thing?Ephemera.Magician’s sin.No hint of paper left withinthis hollow tin.This wraith in skinand boneand two-bit grinis spirallingwhile the tricksy djinnwith Keyser Söze’s tricksy limbdances inthe coloursdancingonthewind.
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Hollow
In a clearing stands a hollow treethat has long since lost its crown of leaves,Its bark is cracked from weathered storms,Its brittle branches – gnarled, forlorn –lay battered, scattered all around,And when they fell they made no sound,For this broken tree stands all alone,Splintered, fractured, stripped to bone,No more birds to nest, nor squirrels to…
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The Lion’s Share
Camel aside, the straw that broke the lion’s back was not in fact a straw at all, but the utter gall of the Pride arriving after the fall, Her cry was guttural and yet they stalled, But had they been there still – had that been their will – curiosity may not have lured this…
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Pachyderm Fight Club
Sharing something a little different today: It shouldn’t really come as a surprise to anyone who knows me, but there is an elephant in the room. An enormous, fuck-off elephant, and nobody is talking about it. Seriously?! It’s like Pachyderm Fight Club. First rule of Pachyderm Fight Club? Well, you know. This particular elephant is…
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Dog Fight
Territory marked, Dogs circle and bark, Backs arched and mouths part with that hallmark foam, And she can only watch them posture, sidelined imposter fostering the hope that they long disowned, But it’s all for show, And in the battle throes, As the guttural drum beats grow, When Chaos takes the throne (Erebus in tow),…
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Fugitive
#NaPoWriMo Day Eight Today’s prompt was to write a poem that uses jargon from a particular profession to shape a metaphor. I chose chasing a fugitive and police jargon for a handheld battering ram (big red key) to shape a metaphor about letting someone capture your heart. Fugitive Like a fugitive I hide inside brick…
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Unchained
Mr Organ Grinder, Please discard your bait, I will no longer dine Upon you hate, Your slurs disguised as playfulness serve only to fat my stubbornness, Heels dug in, Now listen well; You do not own this coloured girl, I will not dance, No sir, Not today, And your ignorance is in my way, If…
Serena Malcolm 