Most Commented Allegory Poems (898)

We leave the windows wide for owls
And ignore coyotes that woo the moon,
Complaining they own the ranch.
Skunks waddle by,
Sniffing for traps.

Papaw taught me
North and south through his pastures,
Past bulls to windmills and muddy ponds.
He slapped a dime store compass in my hand,
Turtle with a tin head wobbling on a pin.
Miles from the barn, I climbed crossbeams
And saw the plains through spinning blades,
A round horizon without a town.
Buzzards patrolled
In slow whirlpools, and coyotes loped away.

I thought I'd never be lost on a gelding
Trotting home. In the desert outside Baghdad,
Even a compass lied, no directions out.
Now, after that war a world away.

The ranch is mine now, no trains on tracks
Laid out by crews long dead.
I swore I'd ride the range and never look back
In spite of friends missing in action.

Sheep claim the ranch, butting each other off
As if they own the troughs.
At dusk we stare off
At plains we'll harvest tomorrow.
Heads bowed,
The sheep lie down,
Worshipping only now.

My man's blue eyes know dark from dawn
And lead me always home.
Nights, I feel the needle wobbling like an old woman
On a high wire, but pointing north.

Young bride I,
Newly married.
Babe within
Anxiously, happily awaiting the time of its' birth.

My groom was gone into the field
You'd watched me for a few days.
Gathering the mail
You caught me unawares.

You just couldn't let go or let me move on
Wanting what you couldn't have.
You did your best to take what you wanted
But my cane let you have it first.

Battered, bruised and bleeding
You took what you wanted
Heinously without regard for anyone but yourself.
You left me to perish without a thought
But you forgot one thing
One word, God.

For three days
Body was shutting down
For a kindly neighbor who'd noticed
Some blood upon the door,
Seeing me in such a state,
He rushed me to help evermore.

My groom dazed and worried,scooped me up in sorrow and love
Cursing himself for leaving me battle sore.
I told him who did such a thing
He hunted you down
Broke your nose
Hindsight being 20/20
He should have done much more.

The child within was lost, given up to God
A memento of your bad behavior,
The woman you could never have.
You pathetic sod.

Police reports were filed,
Kit taken in shame,
The pain of the lost child,
Guilt and nightmares
Hadn't any name.


Trial took place and you protested,
Blood speaks and blood type doesn't lie,
The photos of the crime.
You bore the scars and my maiming,
You'll not escape
"God willing, you'll pay for this!"
My family did they say.

You were found guilty, fifteen years you'll do,
Five more years may be added for the other life you took it, too.
Each year from prison you wrote me,
Not a letter was read
Burned in the fireplace,
You had made your bed.

The years rolled on and I moved on,
Painful as could be
The memories they faded,
Buried deep within
I pulled up my bootstraps
And got on with life
My groom and I together still,
Put it all behind.
No matter how hard you tried to destroy me
The hell you put me through
Will never equal the Judgment, God is sure to do.

Karma is a witch
Satan gets his due
God punished you in His way
It's perfect, just for you.

Fifteen years have come and gone,
Now you are free
That little soul you took
Was a part of me.
Still you seek me,
Wanting I know not what,
Letters, phone calls, e-mails go unanswered
There will never be any "buts".

Forgiveness may one day come,
But I'm not ready yet
It may never happen
And you must accept,
The soul you destroyed
Always daily wept.
The one thing you couldn't do
Is take my spirit within
The one God holds in His hands.

I could have let the pain destroy me
But turned it around instead
To do good and do right instead of evil
I'm the woman you couldn't wed.

My family has always loathed you,
Evil in you did they see.
Family is one thing
You'll never be part of me.

You see, light has come out of the darkness
And I thrive in God's love
In goodness I do walk
Doing His work happily
A gift from heaven above.

Petty tyrants try
To make warriors rage

To step all over you
If you *DARE* disagree
Perish forbid you should have
An opinion all of your own
Instead of being like them.

They deliberately bait and switch
They blur any reasonable set of lines
They babble on incessantly
How they're the holy put upon kind

They attack with innuendo
They slander lie and cheat
They've got a discount on their soul
And its going for dirt cheap

They whine and whinge and moan and groan
They distort and warp the thought
That might lead them to the open
Because they don't want to be caught

It's true they have no faith down deep
They cannot make the leap
They cannot help themselves
They're doomed to remain forever creeps

They're small and twisted up inside
But they can puff up really big
They claim they are the predator
But really they are the pig

Not that they can't slather
Or layer it on real thick
They have just enough intelligence
To know how to be slick

It's the Punk of the Week Award
The slant rant point of view
Going to the one who's got a crock
Full of talk talk talk
But isn't much on follow through

no matter what they say,
no matter what they gossip...
no matter how i look,it's just me...
rather than to please everybody..
i'd rather choose to be simply me...

don't ask,don't judge..
cause i wanted to be just simply me,anyone
who opposes,that's not my problem cause
i just wanted to be the real me..

What if not poetry
is the language of love?
Yet when our passion
reaches the end of the line,
We just feel the pain;
hardly ever the rhyme!

Question

What
Everything I want, and what I do, can it be so bad that it drives my desires from my life.
If everything can only lead to this, yet my convictions and beliefs be from logics depths
Is it because of the interface between logic and emotion, the places the heart and mind meet
It is the flaw of this place, where a man cannot truly understand and a woman cannot explain

Why
If this is to be the way of the world, the way things must be, why then try
It cannot be from the heights of desire, from joy that one would lead this wish to be made
Perhaps it is, when we know not our paths and the world seems new; we want to share this dream
As we grow and age wiser we realize that it is not the heights that lead, but fear of the depths

Who
To share of this living, to become even more and ride the gestalt, must we dance upon the ice
We seek our match to bring us joy but we do not know the path it takes to find this worthy
Worse, when we find an enticing bauble we might believe we have reached the end of the search
Only to find some flaw within ourselves that cannot be undone, overcome; found wanting

How
Do you not believe there is a way to discern our path, help us perceive that what our heart desires
Can it not be found, this mystical, mythical path to our lives salvation and heartfelt need
Must we wander our days and nights alone and lost, wending through the maze of what could be
I believe there must be a way, but I seem to recall my logics flawed and emotions mar the sight.

People standing in a queue,
moaning their arses off
Because the poor lady at the till,
Can't find her credit card.

They stare at her mercilessly,
As she fumbles with her purse,
Not giving a damn that she's panicking,
And trying to not make things worse.

Eventually she finds her credit card,
And pays the,
cashier,
The people in this rotten queue,
Start chatting once again.

I look around in disbelief and shake my little head,
Wondering why they cannot see the stupid things that turn them, red.

Being gentle,kind and loving,
Isn't so hard to do,
The only thing it really requires,
Is to put on your neighbours shoes.

What goes around,
Comes around,
I trully believe in that,
And I also believe that one lovely day,
We can all stop being, selfish,
Spitefull,
brats!

I watch the sun lowering in the west,
Red sun, orange halo, pinks brighten up the dying day,
Soft blues turning inky black.
Shadows begin to spread, creeping across the lawn,
As if chasing the remaining daylight.

Twilight tells me it is time to quiet myself,
To rest my weary soul, marshal my thoughts,
Thinking back on how my day has been.
Looking forward to the morrow
Grateful that my head will rest shortly upon my pillow.

Twilight is my stolen moment, that which I hold dear.
This time is mine to savor, to let myself be me.
I can give myself fully to the twilight,
Knowing it demands nothing more of me,
Than to give it a small moment in time of my innermost thoughts.

Thankfully, I will always be Twilight's Fan.......

Roads within roads
numbering two
footsteps of clay
walking a world of
paradise lost
what could we have been
forbidden fruit
tree evergreen


Walking through time
opening door
leaving behind us
like leaves on the floor
days as the chaff
time files away
folders with headings
of yesterdays

He has a belief in God, his Creator;
He sees him in the stars, the sunsets, the green grass
And his church in the open spaces ,
The mountains, a clear creek, the blue sky.
He loves the bawl of a new-born calf almost as much as he loves the Laughter of his little child.

He treats women with respect at all times,
He always puts family first,
And he works hard because it's the right thing to do.
He'll be there to help a friend or neighbor
At the drop of a hat.

He knows it doesn't really matter
What kind of pickup he drives,
What kind of house he lives in,
Or how much he has in his bank account.

But he knows what he does matters
Is that the world might be a little better
'Cause he made the difference
In the life of a child.

He doesn't look for fame or glory-
His satisfaction is doing the job right,
'Cause in his heart
It's a victory of right over wrong.

If he's lucky,
Once in his life he'll have that one perfect horse
That he'll consider his best pard.
And, if he's really lucky,
Once in his life he'll have a wife
That he'll consider his best friend.

His word has always been his bond;
His firm handshake, his signature.
He does right by others
Because he doesn't understand any other way.

His life can be lonely at time,
But he's at peace with himself.
And he knows there's better grass awaitin'
When it's his time to head o'er on out to
The other side.

It's hard to define a real cowboy,
But when you meet him, you'll know.

I don't know about you,
But as for me,
My heroes have always been cowboys.