Most Commented Allegory Poems (898)

a candle shed wax tears on a dress

I hear the rain it makes me smile
I feel the sun it makes me disappear for awhile
I feel the wind rustle in my hair
I have no reason for despair
This is me.....

Bright and mysterious brown,
your eyes like gems aglow.
Rays of light,
from above adorn.

Tis the moon, to visit
afraid not be you.
she looks out,
and caress your hair.

Recline your head
by the stream and lay.
Benign moonshine,
adorns the silk,
your hair a pure shine.

Ever waiting, patient
endless nights watching.
Eyes open awake,
To see you safe
as you slumber
at your rest.

In the book of Job,
God replied to Job's cries
By commenting on the majesty of one of His creations
The horse.
"Hast thou given the horse strength?
Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder?
The glory of his nostrils is terrible;
He paweth the valley and rejoiceth in his strength
He goeth on to meet the armed men.
He mocked at fear, and is not affrightened;
Neither turneth he back from the sword.
He swalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage.
He cannot stand still when the trumpets sound."

And oh, what a sound it is!
Riding on so fearlessly
It is like heaven's holy arena.
Fearing no one and nothing
The wars and battles won
The horse and man became friends
Always in the shadow of the one.
A lifelong friendship had been forged
And is to this very day.

The centre of the universe
The ONLY thing that's real
Any act, it doesn't matter
Just make that cocaine deal!

The last high is still receding
It wasn't quite enough
The next one may achieve it.
Need more and better stuff.

That pinnacle of pleasure
Sometimes it seems so close
No matter which vein takes the needle
The best you get is almost!

The ecstasy they're seeking
That satisfying SPECIAL high
It can't be had with junk or coke.
They may feel it as they die.

A place called sleep
and a town called dream
hidden deep inside us
and when day is gone
and we lay down to sleep
night beams touch the soul
you may be sleeping soundly
but unseen to view
nights of subconscious appear
dreams within dreams
people are moving
all while you sleep
images, voices sound
figures unstill
no names or faces
hidden by mist
players assemble
real or fiction
once they appeared
a room of people
a bride in waiting
down the long corridor
into a gathering
same as in church
but as one neared
her face still unclear
beckoned me come
only to find
image distorted
veiled in mist and blue
was she someone
subconscious remembered
there were no answers
and while i puzzled
night shadows were fading
as came the morning
images wilted as flowers
leaving me standing
standing while sleeping
in the world of
night time dreams

Lemme Pull You Close >
uP^ To <~My~Tip
It!s Fully 'Dipped
And Ready`Quipped

It!s Such a Thrill ~
Jots My Sharp Quill =
<~Across~Your~Page
My Ink To Spill ~>

<~Thoughts~Penned~So~Deep
Deep In Your Mind >
Strokes Rhyme Sublime
Through Cadence Time


Love <3 Angel

Oppressing others will.....
Plotting out revenge.....
Taking a stand for and against.....
Is it my WRATH?

Hoarding my pennies.....
Acquiring excess treasures.....
Wanting more.....
Is it my GREED?

Putting off until tomorrow.....
Napping away the hours.....
Playing on the computer.....
Is it my SLOTH?

Giggling at the mirror image.....
Brushing out my hair.....
Standing with head held high.....
Is it my PRIDE?

Ogling at the "eye-candy".....
Thinking of stolen kisses.....
Igniting passion.....
Is it my LUST?

Wondering how you got that.....
Sending daggers to your heart.....
Wishing I did instead of you.....
Is is my ENVY?

Just another scoop of ice-cream.....
Overloading the bed with pillows.....
Hiccuping with the wine.....
Is it my GLUTTONY?

“If Silence is golden, what is the color of noise?”
She did not die quietly. The sound-barrier blasts from the jets over her Himalayan retreat destroyed what remained of her life.
Though nothing lives forever, she once dreamed that she would.
When she was very young, she freely wandered the globe. She traveled deserts, mountains, oceans, and prairies. Before the first insect, frog, or human, peace and tranquility ruled both sides of the world.
When creatures began to roam the earth, she went her own way, often just in her own company.
She had many occupations during her life. She cared for young children playing quietly and newborns as they slept. That, of course, was before TV.
She worked with night watchmen and lone sheepherders.
Education was her career. She taught many philosophers and mystics. Her universal school transcended religion, politics or culture.
Her passions were as unique as her solitude.
You frequently could find her in empty churches or abandoned houses. She filled ball-fields after midnight.
She avoided crowds and anything mechanical or electrical. She never listened to music. Her music was soundless.
Her hobbies included hang-gliding and mountain climbing. She spent many of her vacations in the Grand Canyon. You could often meet her fly-fishing trout ponds high in the Rockies.
Her friends were often prayerful. Most of the others liked solitary walks with her in the woods.
She was Beethoven’s lover in his later years.
She was a companion to Helen Keller.
She spent time in prison camps and in solitary confinement.
There wasn’t only crying when she died. There was yelling and blaring and exploding and pounding and ticking and dripping and roaring and squeaking and throbbing and barking and thundering and ringing and elevator music endlessly.
Few know that she has died. She simply is not around anymore. She left no remains, inheritance, or next of kin.

George Washington
has never lied to me.
Not so sure 'bout
that cherry tree,
but when it comes to flippin a coin
he always gets to the point.
Toss-up
and-
catch the wisdom bestowed.
Simply call heads
"Yes" or tails
"no".

George Washington never
flipped a coin
with me in mind though.
Why does't he ever ask me
"Should we go to the bar later?"
Expresso or gas,
paper no-
Don't worry George,
no plastic on me.
Just infinite change in my
pocket.