Apologies, Metaphor Her Friends, & More:

THE DEDICATION

THE DEDICATION:
Metaphor is The Meta
I’ve Literally Spent
MY ENTIRE LIFE
Searching Phor;
It was a Quest I was
Glad to undertake
On behalf of Poetry’s sake.

THE TITLE:

MY GRAND TRIBUTE TO METAPHOR
THROUGH THE SIMILE OF
Apologies, Metaphor, & So Much More
(Not than anyone’s ever apologized to me before….).

THE PREFACE AND SYNOPSIS
(Longer than The Execution]

An Indirectly Literal AND
Disproportionate Piece of My
Metaphoric (hypothetic?)
Forgiveness
(I Refuse to grant the Literal kind,
Since I’ve Never been Guilty of Nothing);


But if your Words
Of Sorrow are stale,
No Slice of the Whole
Can stuff Me or THEM
Full of the Stuff of Life!

Hopefully you won’t be overly-startled by my Oxymorons,
Bored by my Clichés,
Nor find my Allegories too obtuse to

Disgrace you and deface you,
Stimulate and Titillate you
Until you Crescendo With
An Overflow of Innuendo
At the Highest Of
All Heights
Ever Achieved
In Your Entire Life.

So why not stick around?
We may go to Ground,
But we can certainly
GIVE IT A Try, and
GIVE IT A Fly,
So, Let’s apply!
It’s a job I can do;
Can You?

THE EXECUTION:

FIRST:
It takes an Adult to apologize,
So you’re already taller than I imagined.

NEXT:
We’re all guilty of limiting our
Fields of vision
To better scope sizes and shapes
In this shadowy cipher of space.

LASTLY:
Please don’t rain on
Anyone Else’s Parade,
Especially mine.
Not today.

And regarding your forecast?
Are you willing to remain at least
Partially Sunny?
I’ll taste you some sweet
If you’ll shine me some sunny.

In fact, if you’ll spare me
A “brief interlude of rain”.
I’ll let you call me “Mama,” sonny.

THE COGNAC:
How was it for you?
Frankly, it was
Way too much like work
To work much like on me.

Fruity Devices 101

Hyperbole: The Fruitiest Metaphor

First, you took a lush and luscious young grape,
Ripe-to bursting with sweetness,
Known FAR and WIDE as “The Prettiest of too many bunches to count,”
And you proceeded to drain her of her essential precious moisture,
Allowing her to retain only the barest minimum to avoid literally DYING OF THIRST.
Then you Forcibly Relieved her of the weight and shape of her own Privately Imagined Possibilities (which should be a crime, in my opinion),
Until you reduced her into a wizened and decaying micro-pebble of a half-raisin’s shadow
Within a matter of WEEKS!
In fact, she’s currently so unbearably stale, no one wants her anymore.
Sadly, throughout the entire time she’s officially “Been A Raisin” and “Qualified as a Raisin,” she’s been stale.
I don’t know the macro-answer to Why It Happens, I only know that I’ve never come into contact with a Fresh Raisin personally.
Have YOU?
No, I didn’t think so.
Bcause Fresh Raisins are “Oxymorons” in human flesh.
I thought I was supposed to do a poem on “The Outcomes of Harsh Aging Practices on Grapes of Premature Age,” and instead I’m teaching Freshman English!

DATED BUT STILL FLEXIBLE


DATED BUT STILL FLEXIBLE

I can clash with the clatter of consonance and alliterate with the sonorous songs of sibilance.

I can sky myself high in metaphor and literally drop to my knees to kiss the ground.

I bilabial to enfold myself within the warmth of a well-fleshed innuendo as well as be blatantly direct.

So yes, I’m still Flexible.

Lying About My Age, “Mature”

LYING ABOUT MY AGE, “MATURE”

I don’t mind if you call me “sexually mature,”

But don’t you DARE call me mentally or emotionally mature!

I’ll have you know I am immature, shallow, and narcissistic.

You can’t believe a WORD I say, whether in agreement or to the contrary!

Be deceived, but DON’T take me for my word.

Gone Fishin’!

I AM AWARE THIS IS A REPOST-ED DIFFERENTLY

GONE FISHING‼️

You say you don’t have time for me.
I ask Not You, But Just For Me:
Am I the Source For Whom You Seek?
Sources springing naturally,
Flowing Femininity,
Flossed LipGlossing,
Glowing Free,
Taking HerSelf-Care-ishly:
EveryBit She Claims to Be,
Quite the Curiosity!
Fish-Nets Tight Quite Stockingly,
Electric Zings Sting Shockingly,
A Mannered Faced So Prettily,
The Cleverest Mentality
And Most Exotic Personality!
Better Get Your Hooks In Her
Or I’d Not Work to Rest Assure
She’s At “Home Alone” for sure.
Better Get those Hooks in She
Or she will soon be Schoolingly.
In circles or The Shape She Wish:
In Many, Plenty Droves of Fish.

THANKS4GIVING STUFFING 🦃 ♨️

Wordplay on Steroids!

THANKS4GIVING STUFFING

I stuff my poems with heavy stuff.
I also stuff them with Big Love.
I stuff them till I’ve said enough.
I like to stuff them with rough love.
Stuff with me with your Lovely Stuff.
It tastes so good, it fills me up.
So why can’t I Just Get Enough?
It’s the Stuff I’m Dreaming of
UnTill I’m fully stuffed enough.
Come stuff me more; come stuff me rough;
Its the stuff; the stuff I love
And Yours the only Stuff I Trust;
The Only One that Spills Me Up.

EXORCISING MONSTERS

One poem led to the next today. You can see it in the last 3 especially. Which is unusual – even for a Weirdo like me.


EXORCISING MONSTERS

Efforts spent on Effervescence
Returning Yields much High Investment.
Once Erased or Out of focus,
Under-beds, when Freed of Monsters
Thoughts Untangled freely Wander
Aimlessly amble;
Freely Wonder
Far away from the Black Hole
Of “Terribilities” up below.
When thick enough to face your fears
And See What Lies Beneath Your Tears,
You’ll soon Crush with ALL YOUR Strength,
Pull the Stops and Go the Lengths,
Fearless Fears You’ll Push Against,
Escaping; Nothing Terrifies!
So Whole is Your Piece of Mind.

THOUGHT BUBBLES… All The Way Up

Inspiration seems to be the Inspiration today❣️

THOUGHT BUBBLES…ALL THE WAY UP:
“Inner Effervesce”

Can’t build Art from Artifice:
The only schools for birthing fish
Are Seas of Vulnerability.
In depths You’ll find the Muse You Hide.
Stimulates Your Softer Side,
Releasing Secrets Trapped Inside.
Unleashed freedom gives Free Reign,
Bouncing UnBoxed Jack Away,
Loosing Inner Effervescence;
Bubbled Thoughts have Much To Say!

Sibilance and Alliteration

How do you like the way this reads?

SO SIBILANT!

I say Word-Sound Repetition
Sets Above from Competition;
Such as stuff like SIBILANCE:
Sounds sounding soundingly,
Sometimes used strategically,
Written words repeatedly.

Brains Sing Sounds Annoyingly,
So You would most assuredly
Be put off by My Poetry;
Particularly the Poetic
And “Repetive”
Ploys which I Refer
Plus also Plot
And then Prefer
To play in Perpetuity.

Or perhaps My Love’s Alliteration
And my Hate The Consternation
Of the Constant Compilation
Of Varied Verbal Iterations
Required to simply Clarify
The Vagaries I’m Blurred Behind?

Your Well-informed Guess Defies
Remembered Answers I can’t Find
All Access in Recent Years
Has Recently Been Denied.

I’m NOT a trust fund, Babe!

I’m no trust fun babe;
I’ll have to trust,
Trust at least,
Or at least enough,
To trust the reason
You’re with Me
Isn’t because you believe
I’m a tree in full spring leaf
Growing stores of EverMoney.
Didn’t Mama tell You, Honey?
You don’t wanna Gal who’s Made of Money!
They fend and cope like No One Else.
And even just the Rich at Heart
ALWAYS set themselves Apart
By the Way They Love Themselves❣️
So I must trust for US “What’s Best?”
Is: Grow your Money for Yourself!

THE VIOLENCE OF RHYME, Final

For the very life of me
Can’t fathom why my Poetry
Rhymes so Annoyingly,
And also so Consistently;
My brain delivers words this way,
So why vex myself ‘bout anything
When rhyming stays
Inside one’s head; it just won’t leave?
It’s sounds like Words stuck on “Repeat,”
In sing-song waters, lull to sleep
You, Where I bite subtle-y
And drag you to My Waters Deep
So dark that you will never see
My face as I Commence to Feast,
Consume your Focus momentarily.

So Won’t You spare a Byte for Me?


(Thanks to tracts4free.wordpress.com for the photo – always fond of a fellow WordPresser)

RECIPE FOR A POETIC SOUL


I. MUST BE

•Fully right-brain
•Fully left-brain
•Overly-Sensitive to Light
•Unafraid of the Dark

II. MUST POSSESS

1. A PAST Littered With:
•Mistakes
•Traumas
•Regrets
•Memories of Extasy

2. A PRESENT Marked By:
•Pervasive, Persistent Longing
•Innumerable Unmet Needs
•Building Frustration
•Mounting Tension
•Growing Childishness, and an
•Increasing Focus Inwards.

3. A FUTURE Colored by:
•Tides not Turning
•Limited Options
•Fear and Loathing Everywhere
•Faded Beauty, and
•An Inability to Dream Anymore

III: MUST HAVE

•Broad Vocabulary
•Limited Resources
•Hungry Heart
•Thirsty Soul

BAKE FOR AT LEAST 25 YEARS IN TEMPS AS HOT AS HELL (or 900 degrees, to be safe).

LOSING FACE:ODE TO “CLICHE-“ING”

I’m wiling to Lose Face
Building a Name for Myself,
Pursuing My Wildest Dreams,
Refusing to Abandon Them,
While Doing Something that I Love!
Resulting in My 15 Minutes of [low-rent] Fame;
Then Fading from the Public View
As Time Goes On and Passing through
The Earth Rotating ‘round the Sun
For Many Moons now
Once it’s Done.
I’ll put the “Opt” in the “Optional”
When I Submit to Fate
And Drift into Obscurity
On Public Display,
Playing the Scapegoat,
While Offering Blood Sacrifices:
A CautionaryTale but never
A Best-Selling Blockbuster,
Profounding Disappointment;
Something to Be Avoided Though Openly Embracing
With The Journey’s “Open Arms.”
Then again: What Do I Know?
You can’t fault a girl for Questioning
Not Answered by an Answering.

<Photo courtesy of Donald Tell at e-partner.org>

Thank You, CyberPoets

I write so many words for you
I never even followed through
By Reading Who I follow, too;
I spent my ink Ejecting Ghosts,
Forgot My Reads Improve My Wrotes.
Why’d it take so long see
Plethor-plosive posts of Poetry?
THERE’S SO MUCH FRUIT RIGHT HERE TO EAT!!
Observing ways You must Express
Longing-Passion-Much Duress-
Fear-Regret-and -tenderness,
I wish I’d not delayed My Start
To view the Lovely Works of Art
On CyberBoulevards of Poetry;
Where “Betterness” the Muse for Me.

(Thanks for the photo, Andreas Fickl)

My Winner

I can’t wait! My favorite is NOT the one I burned the most minutes on!!

It’s the micropoem called MUCH PONDERING and my second favorite is the longer HYPOTHETICALLY.

I’d love to know which of the 6 is YOUR favorite❣️