Here is a list of Allegory Poems ordered by Last Commented, posted by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
on a train to Cornwall
I sit transfixed
as thought it flies
to see warmth twice
inside her eyes
reflected in
the glassy pane
two pupils flower
past disdain
a look of summer
dressed in light
a thirst beyond
the drink of sight
some lust for life
and flirt with death
a carraige full
of moving breath
my logic screams
in measure new
though all before
wore beauty too
for even Yeats
or Neruda's verse
would paint her well
but paint her worse
a foggy smudge
her breath it seems
can not distort
the shape of dreams
as thought it flies
to see warmth twice
inside her eyes
reflected in
the glassy pane
two pupils flower
past disdain
a look of summer
dressed in light
a thirst beyond
the drink of sight
some lust for life
and flirt with death
a carraige full
of moving breath
my logic screams
in measure new
though all before
wore beauty too
for even Yeats
or Neruda's verse
would paint her well
but paint her worse
a foggy smudge
her breath it seems
can not distort
the shape of dreams
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2019
Post CommentDante: nature is the art of God
(or the unwitting brilliance of someone who didn't know it)
you never walked.. 'twas more the curve of the earth.. found a mooring.. in the shape of your foot
you never sang..' twas more a distillation of vibrated yearning.. and what emerged.. saluted a starved ear
you never smiled.. 'twas more the agents of joy constructing.. permanent dwellings.. beneath your eyes
you never painted.. ' twas more you sketched what joy displaced.. and a magic kissed your brush
you never sought numerical truth.. 'twas more the starling cloud of value, settling.. on the branch of your logic
you never carved out a career.. 'twas more the align of the heart.. synced with restless thought
you never swam the spring tide
'twas more the sea inhaled.. and the normal laws of physics.. let you pass
you never walked.. 'twas more the curve of the earth.. found a mooring.. in the shape of your foot
you never sang..' twas more a distillation of vibrated yearning.. and what emerged.. saluted a starved ear
you never smiled.. 'twas more the agents of joy constructing.. permanent dwellings.. beneath your eyes
you never painted.. ' twas more you sketched what joy displaced.. and a magic kissed your brush
you never sought numerical truth.. 'twas more the starling cloud of value, settling.. on the branch of your logic
you never carved out a career.. 'twas more the align of the heart.. synced with restless thought
you never swam the spring tide
'twas more the sea inhaled.. and the normal laws of physics.. let you pass
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2019
Post Comment
No ideal answer
There is no ideal answer to life's
dilemmas or its demise
No ultimate thought or idea
or eloquent word to enlighten
our eyes
All there are but perceptions and often projections
Just individual interjections hoping somehow we can pause
for reflection
We can ask how and why the innocent must suffer the price
of the guilty's vice
We wonder why that at a time life gives us much then it starts to take away
To ponder our best and darkest moments
the choice of which we value the most
As we chase the wind of wisdom
from coast to coast
Ah but can we hear the songs
between the noise of screams and languish
The songs of beauty and love
that touches us like a dove?
Can we hear the silent cries and solemn sighs
As we wipe away the tears from our eyes?
Have we forgotten or discarded our innocence
and closed the door to recompense?
Is there still a time and chance to
forgiveness and healing
or are we just empty shells without feeling?
So many faces from so many places
They offer their stories and put on their masks
See how they cry for love but still afraid to ask
We can wait forever for that ultimate thought or feeling
We can hope for that magical
word that will send us through the
ceiling
We can search the four corners of the earth for that pretty smile and fiery eyes of desire and put on the miles between
We can hold out for that ideal partner in disguise thinking they are going to be the one to open our hearts and minds to make us wise
Yet, nobody or nothing outside of ourselves can give what we already have hidden within
Our list of accolades and certified achievements
Our fancy vocations or golden investments
They mean little when we are sick
or in bereavement
Things and people of this world shall pass
Yet, everything and everyone that made an impact in our lives great or small that is what matters to us all
Can anyone hear the call of love and healing or has everyone become deaf to the noise of their groaning?
Have we lost the faith and just plain given up or are we just waiting for whatever we find by potluck?
What's the use in complaining that one cannot find the love they seek
Maybe it will come if we spend more time and energy giving love to the low and meek
dilemmas or its demise
No ultimate thought or idea
or eloquent word to enlighten
our eyes
All there are but perceptions and often projections
Just individual interjections hoping somehow we can pause
for reflection
We can ask how and why the innocent must suffer the price
of the guilty's vice
We wonder why that at a time life gives us much then it starts to take away
To ponder our best and darkest moments
the choice of which we value the most
As we chase the wind of wisdom
from coast to coast
Ah but can we hear the songs
between the noise of screams and languish
The songs of beauty and love
that touches us like a dove?
Can we hear the silent cries and solemn sighs
As we wipe away the tears from our eyes?
Have we forgotten or discarded our innocence
and closed the door to recompense?
Is there still a time and chance to
forgiveness and healing
or are we just empty shells without feeling?
So many faces from so many places
They offer their stories and put on their masks
See how they cry for love but still afraid to ask
We can wait forever for that ultimate thought or feeling
We can hope for that magical
word that will send us through the
ceiling
We can search the four corners of the earth for that pretty smile and fiery eyes of desire and put on the miles between
We can hold out for that ideal partner in disguise thinking they are going to be the one to open our hearts and minds to make us wise
Yet, nobody or nothing outside of ourselves can give what we already have hidden within
Our list of accolades and certified achievements
Our fancy vocations or golden investments
They mean little when we are sick
or in bereavement
Things and people of this world shall pass
Yet, everything and everyone that made an impact in our lives great or small that is what matters to us all
Can anyone hear the call of love and healing or has everyone become deaf to the noise of their groaning?
Have we lost the faith and just plain given up or are we just waiting for whatever we find by potluck?
What's the use in complaining that one cannot find the love they seek
Maybe it will come if we spend more time and energy giving love to the low and meek
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2019
Post CommentPlutonic Temple
A fine mess to wake up to would be the struggle within created by waking up.
Like the introduction of two opposing forces of energy, as such to bring about a violent chemical reaction, a ground shaking and window shattering explosion, or the storm of the century. Perhaps even a new concept of the big bang theory.
Emotions are very powerful indeed, because emotions are indeed energy & all energy can be harnessed to then channel it to power a constructive & productive process or purpose. Stupendous was the sanity stretching strive to contain and bring to medium, and harness the power of the energy resulting from the union of a pair of unlike forces to fuel my temple in manner such that of a nuclear reactor. By distraction of question, my attention taken, confidence shaken. Would I ever find for my mind such a harness capable of withstanding the power of the energy? Harmony that is the place of balance between tranquility & hostility, would there even exist that ability? Standing at the mirror, sensing meltdown growing nearer , a thought occurred to me, the click was abrupt as I looked up. Seeing into my own eyes is when I came to realize, Not at all in farness needed I seek that harness. In fact only if who I am myself would I embrace, I have not need to go no place. Rather than my place in life do I berate it, that harness,Eureka, only I can create it.
Within my temple I now sit, mesmerized by the hum of that energy flowing through the installed channels of it's harness, having a smoke as I ponder the birthing clash of the energy and realize what it was. A simple counter reaction that inevitably results from an action. Natural law that leaves always a mere choice of how we deal with it all. Not prediction is it that all things are accompanied by contradiction. Freedom in the waking to the fact that I am the high flying unstoppable, unbreakable, and supreme ruler of my temple & my universe that yet...in it confined as it feels so empty and defeated,now the social outcast left behind.
Does true rest ever return after truly awakening?
Like the introduction of two opposing forces of energy, as such to bring about a violent chemical reaction, a ground shaking and window shattering explosion, or the storm of the century. Perhaps even a new concept of the big bang theory.
Emotions are very powerful indeed, because emotions are indeed energy & all energy can be harnessed to then channel it to power a constructive & productive process or purpose. Stupendous was the sanity stretching strive to contain and bring to medium, and harness the power of the energy resulting from the union of a pair of unlike forces to fuel my temple in manner such that of a nuclear reactor. By distraction of question, my attention taken, confidence shaken. Would I ever find for my mind such a harness capable of withstanding the power of the energy? Harmony that is the place of balance between tranquility & hostility, would there even exist that ability? Standing at the mirror, sensing meltdown growing nearer , a thought occurred to me, the click was abrupt as I looked up. Seeing into my own eyes is when I came to realize, Not at all in farness needed I seek that harness. In fact only if who I am myself would I embrace, I have not need to go no place. Rather than my place in life do I berate it, that harness,Eureka, only I can create it.
Within my temple I now sit, mesmerized by the hum of that energy flowing through the installed channels of it's harness, having a smoke as I ponder the birthing clash of the energy and realize what it was. A simple counter reaction that inevitably results from an action. Natural law that leaves always a mere choice of how we deal with it all. Not prediction is it that all things are accompanied by contradiction. Freedom in the waking to the fact that I am the high flying unstoppable, unbreakable, and supreme ruler of my temple & my universe that yet...in it confined as it feels so empty and defeated,now the social outcast left behind.
Does true rest ever return after truly awakening?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2019
About this poem:
Should anyone read it, bear in mind that it is art, an expression of it through writing.It was however inspired by my initial awakening & how unsettling & awkward it was in the inability to convey something I did not yet understand.
They say the more you learn, the crazier you will sound & the more intelligent a person actually is, the lonelier the life they live.
I do not accept that answer. Life is experienced in the way you yourself choose to experience it just as people treat us only how we allow ourselves to be treated.
Knowledge is power, truly. Once the buzz is felt from the power, from that point on.......it is now addiction.
The pain of love
When the pain of love is just too much
that eventually one needs a crutch
to hold together the pieces
of a fragmented heart
When nothing seems to matter
As that last desperate effort
to salvage what is left
We are still in bereft
When you get nothing but rejection by the object of your affection
Who is to blame when the results are always the same?
After awhile you question your own credibility as you fall into a state of deniability and instability
Who or what do we call upon to reach for that hand of hope
When you feel like a dope!!
We ask for the universe to bring us the life and promises it stated
Yet after awhile when they never come true is it time to give it up
as life and love fades out of view?
Has life and love become so complacent and jaded where there is nothing left but mistrust
and scars of hate have been gold plated?
Are we a generation of all talk and no action forming individual factions?
Has love been written or blotted out of our hearts and minds that it's just lost in the mist of our youthful times?
If love can be so joyful and plentiful and a dream for the few
At what price did they pay to receive it to make their lives anew?
Is there something I am missing
Is there something I am not seeing or understanding?
Or are there others who may share this point of view?
Why does loving anyone have to be so complex and complicated
to the point we become so exasperated
Isn't it to bring healing and offer warm fuzzy feelings?
Is it not to offer comfort and joys
to feel like happy little girls and boys?
Apparently, if we are not feeling it then it must be something else that is stealing it.
We can write many thoughts and ideas of how it should be
Yet, are we genuinely offering it to those in the quality we can imagine it so eloquently?
Are we just so set in our ways that nothing will interphase?
Is it not our nature to love and be loved? Even the Gods we dance to seek to be loved and adored in the hope they will not leave us or forsake us just because they may be tired or bored.
Can anyone offer a solution to the confusion or will they laugh and just add to the pollution?
Help us to believe once again that love is like a summer breeze
Help us to believe that love is the warmth after a winter snow
As the fire blazes it's mysterious glow.
Help us to believe the gentle river flow and the songbirds sing a song we all know.
Help us to believe that life is worth living no matter where we go.
that eventually one needs a crutch
to hold together the pieces
of a fragmented heart
When nothing seems to matter
As that last desperate effort
to salvage what is left
We are still in bereft
When you get nothing but rejection by the object of your affection
Who is to blame when the results are always the same?
After awhile you question your own credibility as you fall into a state of deniability and instability
Who or what do we call upon to reach for that hand of hope
When you feel like a dope!!
We ask for the universe to bring us the life and promises it stated
Yet after awhile when they never come true is it time to give it up
as life and love fades out of view?
Has life and love become so complacent and jaded where there is nothing left but mistrust
and scars of hate have been gold plated?
Are we a generation of all talk and no action forming individual factions?
Has love been written or blotted out of our hearts and minds that it's just lost in the mist of our youthful times?
If love can be so joyful and plentiful and a dream for the few
At what price did they pay to receive it to make their lives anew?
Is there something I am missing
Is there something I am not seeing or understanding?
Or are there others who may share this point of view?
Why does loving anyone have to be so complex and complicated
to the point we become so exasperated
Isn't it to bring healing and offer warm fuzzy feelings?
Is it not to offer comfort and joys
to feel like happy little girls and boys?
Apparently, if we are not feeling it then it must be something else that is stealing it.
We can write many thoughts and ideas of how it should be
Yet, are we genuinely offering it to those in the quality we can imagine it so eloquently?
Are we just so set in our ways that nothing will interphase?
Is it not our nature to love and be loved? Even the Gods we dance to seek to be loved and adored in the hope they will not leave us or forsake us just because they may be tired or bored.
Can anyone offer a solution to the confusion or will they laugh and just add to the pollution?
Help us to believe once again that love is like a summer breeze
Help us to believe that love is the warmth after a winter snow
As the fire blazes it's mysterious glow.
Help us to believe the gentle river flow and the songbirds sing a song we all know.
Help us to believe that life is worth living no matter where we go.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2019
Post CommentNuance
The winds are just excuses
Worn and broken fuses
Tearing eyes
Without surprise
And none of them have uses.
The snows are just disguises,
Covering growth that man despises.
Blowing skies
To shelter lies
And hide another crisis.
The suns are happy cheery notes
Weather on which we'd cast out votes
Gloom, it dies
With human sighs,
Plastic castles enclosed by motes.
The rains are just relief
The shedding of our grief
Failure tries
A human cries
When verity shows disbelief.
The hails are just a screaming
The rain and snow are teaming
A god he sees
A wise man agrees
Most things are only seeming.
Worn and broken fuses
Tearing eyes
Without surprise
And none of them have uses.
The snows are just disguises,
Covering growth that man despises.
Blowing skies
To shelter lies
And hide another crisis.
The suns are happy cheery notes
Weather on which we'd cast out votes
Gloom, it dies
With human sighs,
Plastic castles enclosed by motes.
The rains are just relief
The shedding of our grief
Failure tries
A human cries
When verity shows disbelief.
The hails are just a screaming
The rain and snow are teaming
A god he sees
A wise man agrees
Most things are only seeming.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2011
About this poem:
June 8, 1982.the sea
be it in the tumble
aft the winch
or out the bow
in winter's pinch
my heart oft seeks
the raven tide
in floating cabin
I reside
bearded, wild
quick tempered be
my natural place
is on the sea
my northern star
her memory
the anchor locker
and the quay
pots they sleep
as nets are shot
my hands are claws
my body squat
born rough
to warp and splice
my heart in summer
full of ice
net mending
as the season grows
needle dancing
through the rows
aft the winch
or out the bow
in winter's pinch
my heart oft seeks
the raven tide
in floating cabin
I reside
bearded, wild
quick tempered be
my natural place
is on the sea
my northern star
her memory
the anchor locker
and the quay
pots they sleep
as nets are shot
my hands are claws
my body squat
born rough
to warp and splice
my heart in summer
full of ice
net mending
as the season grows
needle dancing
through the rows
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2019
Post Commentcourage
when the clinker fails
in the boards of your heart
when the gunnells dip
and you lose your chart
when you sail alone
through the seas of steel
when your sails are drowned
by a broken keel
when the wind dies
and your spirit's corrupted
when you inch ahead
with your pace obstructed
when the will to fight
is made weak by thirst
when your clothes are skin
and your hope is cursed
when you reach your end
and you are still alive
when ascending angels
turn to birds and dive
when the clouds part
and you see God divine
when all shapes of memory
dim to a line
when you fight to retain
the metallic of blood
when the last of your senses depart for the mud
when the comfort of death
tempts like a liar
when the last thing you own
is belligerent fire
when the heart of darkness
offers his hand
when you can't see heaven
the sky or the strand
when you see him smirk
with his ancient sigh
you ferociously snarl
and tear out his eye
in the boards of your heart
when the gunnells dip
and you lose your chart
when you sail alone
through the seas of steel
when your sails are drowned
by a broken keel
when the wind dies
and your spirit's corrupted
when you inch ahead
with your pace obstructed
when the will to fight
is made weak by thirst
when your clothes are skin
and your hope is cursed
when you reach your end
and you are still alive
when ascending angels
turn to birds and dive
when the clouds part
and you see God divine
when all shapes of memory
dim to a line
when you fight to retain
the metallic of blood
when the last of your senses depart for the mud
when the comfort of death
tempts like a liar
when the last thing you own
is belligerent fire
when the heart of darkness
offers his hand
when you can't see heaven
the sky or the strand
when you see him smirk
with his ancient sigh
you ferociously snarl
and tear out his eye
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2019
Post Comment
Spring Time
The Spring brings things which the Winter witch stole...
Flowers soon bloom, bright colors unfold...
Trees resist breeze, and bring forth their fruit...
For your lovely lips to partake of...
The sounds of your heart are so doubly-sweet...
Natures heartbeat timed in constant repeat...
Recalling the days when you were so near...
Rhythmically wanting you here....
Flowers soon bloom, bright colors unfold...
Trees resist breeze, and bring forth their fruit...
For your lovely lips to partake of...
The sounds of your heart are so doubly-sweet...
Natures heartbeat timed in constant repeat...
Recalling the days when you were so near...
Rhythmically wanting you here....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2014
Post Comment
Tainted - for NZ
Calculating but totally Ignorant
Unaware to the most basics of facts
Three colour-blind men failed to see
The very colours that made them white
For black is the absence
And white the presence of all
They came, ripping apart our very hearts,
One quiet Friday afternoon
As our brothers and sisters
Young and old their faith rejoiced
Grateful of blessings big or small
Of a working week just gone past
From a race supreme he reckons;
yet unbeknownst to him or them lot
Ignorance and limited vision alone
Ignites each and every narcissistic act;
an outlook to just a very demented few!
My anger streams in this one sad fact
Why carry out this brutal act
In a land so pure in verdant lush
A peaceful home to a people of big hearts
Skin painted by the hands of Father Time
Created He them as brown as their land;
Then turned their hearts as bright, as warm;
As beautiful as the rays of the morning sun!
Unaware to the most basics of facts
Three colour-blind men failed to see
The very colours that made them white
For black is the absence
And white the presence of all
They came, ripping apart our very hearts,
One quiet Friday afternoon
As our brothers and sisters
Young and old their faith rejoiced
Grateful of blessings big or small
Of a working week just gone past
From a race supreme he reckons;
yet unbeknownst to him or them lot
Ignorance and limited vision alone
Ignites each and every narcissistic act;
an outlook to just a very demented few!
My anger streams in this one sad fact
Why carry out this brutal act
In a land so pure in verdant lush
A peaceful home to a people of big hearts
Skin painted by the hands of Father Time
Created He them as brown as their land;
Then turned their hearts as bright, as warm;
As beautiful as the rays of the morning sun!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2019
About this poem:
White Supremacy?……in a land like NZ? It is so very wrong, so cruel, so deplorable. How sad it is for those who lost their lives, all 49 of them and their grieving families. My heart is broken but though mine aches; it is nothing compared to those who lost love ones. I am still shaken; and I've cried a lot today and people might not understand why because I have no one that I know that was gravely affected by this massacre.But I m affected and I wish there was someone I could talk to that really understands; someone who shares the love, the passion for that land and it's people. But I am alone in my thoughts, it's sad and lonely at the same time. Some feels more than others and that I can understand.
NZ is still my home; and it is her pure, down to earth, beautiful, friendly and giving nature (applicable to both the land and the people) and this one horrible act of a senseless, self-centred misfit has forever tainted what has always been the purest, cleanest and green profile of NZ.
I keep saying but no one is listening; rebuild the family unit...parents are too busy working and we are breeding spineless, self-absorbed, feeling so privileged children who have no life-skills so much so that when life storms come their way they simply cannot cope. They either cry and give up or they take to the gun and kill the rest of us all because most parents these days are afraid to discipline (not chastise) their children. It is such a pity that some parents do everything for their kids mistaking it as love.
“I wrote this not just to express my own thoughts but those of the many migrants who were attacked in a senseless way. They're migrants but as our NZ Prime Minister said; “they are us” and NZ was their home!
I realize poems can be read, interpreted differently from the writer’s point of view…so before anyone judges me, let me say: I'm a Christian and believe in just one Supreme Authority ergo: I don’t believe in White Supremacy but mentioned it here as a reaction to an article that came out that day.
I spend 70% at least of my time working to come -up with ideas/strategies to connect cultural groups where we are. I have to be colour blind; yes a different type of colour – blindness- the type that is aware white is the presence of all colours and history tells us we all, regardless of colour, contributed to the building of our modern societies. To me, skin colour is just that; a colour, a covering…much like the many colours of clothing we choose to cover us each day!
If there is anything I will condemn; it will be the act of terrorism; not the people, not skin colour ,not even religion. Just the demented minds of a few.
We look at NZ as our quiet little backyard, where there is no place for senseless acts such as this one. I know Terrorism is a devil that lurks around us as old as old can be. But it hasn’t been and never will be nurtured in NZ and we therefore are not as desensitized as the rest of the world.
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