Most Commented Allegory Poems (898)

Everything around feels insane,
day by day why such pain?
I close my eyes, and meadows form,
rolling hills and misty lakes.
Tis the place called Serenity.
Moment of peace and tranquility.
A calming of life with stability.
Butterflies flutter on the breeze,
Tis the place were I'm at ease.
Staring for hours at the sky,
as puffy clouds pass by.
Cascade of torrents at fall,
great oaks and elm growing so tall.
Distant mountains and and sun's rays around,
all at peace with calm abound.
Serenity will await you here,
so close your eyes and disappear.

Such Angels down from clouds were tore
From heaven to ground, on this earthly shore
Uplifted, their arms, beckoned back to that home
While here I was left ignored and alone

Righteous I thought, I always would be
Their interest, seems though, was other than me
Their cries come in waves, they wish to be warm
From the mortality, cold, which crept up their arms

I sought just a friend, a simple request
Not firmness of leg, or softness of breast
But there they desired, and wouldn't look away
Or for one lonesome man, to stop, and to pray

What mark do I bare, emblazoned my head?
What face do I show, they so seem to dread?
Am I not human, do I not love?
Ought they not look down, instead of above?

Calloused my heart, I took to the streets
When then by chance, a friend I did meet
Who dressed all in black, suggestive- assertive
Her hither-come smile, sharp and perverted

"A friend I can be, for little a price
my eternal embrace, the cost just your life."
Her words lingered on, as I contemplated
A lover eternal, my heart seemed elated

When once I had sought only affection
I was shamed and deplored, which lead to reflection
The value of my life was I found was diminished
By those I petitioned for simple kindness

When once I was worthy, their eyes they averted
They desired their warmth and left me deserted
So here in the fire in those hands I am placed
Sold to the wicked for her simple embrace

as peepers watch they share the love
with each new word unfurled
sweet tidings raining from above
before the gazing world

but do I pry, should I spy
on other hearts' words rendered?
that is to say, am I in the way?
for not to me, are they tendered

tasty pinch of another's soul
furtive peek into their room
lips moist, eavesdroppingly patrol
the joy others share, or gloom

ever the case, tis hard to erase
the pictures framed in my mind
but they little care, do the unaware
in search of their love, to find

There was a woman lived up on the hill alone
below her stretched the little village town
to the curious locals her history was unknown
and she rarely to the village went down.

Her age also was unknown and indefinable
she was of small frame with a lively step,
not like the women in town she'd aged well
and her body and face she didn't neglect.

No beige cardigans and aprons for her
she wore tights, pointed bras and heels
and dangly ear rings and spiked her hair
but ne'er anything personal did she reveal.

So at the knitting circle stories started round
about this poor woman and her fabled past
like a rolling stone the rumours did expound
cruelly she became a woman loose and fast.

They'd heard tales that she had been overseas
their imagination went wild, it had no bounds.
Was it true she had an affair with a Burmese
she'd found in a remote hillstation town ?

The knitting needles went clickety click click,
then one large lady did lean over and confide
'she went to Thailand & can use a chopstick'
and they all tutted & muttered and sighed.

Then one day the woman on the hill fell ill
and hired a man to keep her garden trim.
He was quiet, his past haunted him still
she understood this and listened to him.

They got on well and appeared to be friends,
All agog the knitting circle didn't miss a trick
but their friendship they didn't comprehend
as the knitting needles went clickety click click.

To the movies they went and all the markets,
she wore her tights, pointed bra and heels;
he had long wild hair and beaded bracelets
but ne'er anything personal did they reveal.

Then one day the woman on the hill did die
and no one in town her passing did mourn,
But in the cemetery a lone figure did cry
with his long wild hair a sight so forlorn.

The woman left the house on the hill to him
and there was talk throughout the town;
but lovingly he kept their secret with a grin
He was a good son he wouldn't let her down..

ALPHA,
Beckons me
Closer
Decides to
Entice
Funny I
Guess
How he
Intrigues
(Jester)
Kisses from
Lips
Mesmerizing subtle
Nuances
Opening in
Parts
Questing for
Romance
Stirring up
Tension
Using his
Vision
Wishing for
Xanadu
Yearning for
ZEN.

PAINTINGS

BY OIL

WATERCOLOUR

FREEZE INTO TIME PORTRAITS

EYES COME TO LIFE GAZING AT YOU

PAINTINGS

Some things come straight from the brain,
Some come from the heart.
And then there's stuff from lower down,
At least that's where they start.

No matter where it's comin' from,
Still goes through your head.
Yeah, sometimes that's a problem, too,
Get tangled up in threads.

But other times there is a need,
Give a little thought,
To what you write or what you say,
Before you throw it out.

Now some folks go a diff'rent route,
Always off the cuff,
And that's okay, if that's their way,
But can be kinda rough.

Well I prefer to run 'em through,
Whole chain link by link.
I ask my heart and ask my my mind,
"Hey gonads! What you think?"

CHASTITY.....finds me making friends; not wishing for romance.
TEMPERANCE.....finds me refusing that second drink.
CHARITY.....finds me giving a helping hand.
DILIGENCE.....finds me working away.
PATIENCE.....finds me holding in my thoughts.
KINDNESS.....finds me randomly making your day.
HUMILITY.....finds me not gloating to you.

Yesterday~I was full of fear and trepidation.
Today~I am swinging on the edge of silliness.
Tomorrow~I will set my inner child free.

Yesterday~I was crying because my heart was trampled upon.
Today~I am cynical and full of desperation.
Tomorrow~I will attempt to transform myself.

Yesterday~I was afraid of the dark places in my soul.
Today~I am learning to face my fears full on.
Tomorrow~I will just be my quirky, uniquely, engaging self.

looking at the horse
pull down the lips
and check the teeth
good teeth are a gift
pull up on a leg
check out how long
been on the hoof
mouth's ok, checkin' south
ol' belly's a bit saggin'
a while been baggin' but
haunches rounded and strong
soft eyes are still clear
and you see a little fire
and think about the fourth
turn on that muddy track
everyone standing cheering
you're galloping neck-n-neck
unglued and runnin' like wind
dreamin' of a photo finish

© agoodguy2have 2010-08-20