Most Liked Allegory Poems (898)

I am the archetype.

Pedestaled forever with a label
Which reads
“Woman -
Sin”.

What fairness?
Pale as though marble, the
Serpents crafted my brow from
Dirt; they should have eaten it.

Beauty herself posed for my image,
and Justice, ironic queen, gave skills of
Hand; would that she had severed them then.
The Musician gave me lyre and tongue
The Messenger made me bold;
Would not all men do the same as I?

Innocence, pleading before those
Cursing my very state - as they might
Prove their point - does nought for my
Eternal emblem.

Most cursed of all, favored conspirator of the
Lightning Warrior, gave me curiosity
Sealing my fate with a sweep of green
Feathers; Justice laughs with crooked delight.

I am the woman betrayed.

Would this be the force to bring me down?
Earthquakes phase not this southern-sunward body;
Tidal wave
After wave of sorrows have not so
violently harmed the flesh of so young
A flower.


And yes it is no more fault than Opus
Or Octave, though without any eight cresting most recent waves,
That while April springs new life
mine should end
Full of daisies.

So here is the undertow of my life
Choice made easy by my sea’s demand:
my death first
Sacrifice for pollen.


Like a follower of sunsets into impossible horizons
Struggle against their depths and be surprised; find it
Worth the thorns.


Drag myself from the oceans dripping
As a waterlily, but alive


She will be Lily.

When you get what you want in the struggle for self
And the world makes you king for a day;
Then go to the mirror and look at yourself
And see what that man has to say.

For it isn't a man's father, mother, or wife,
Whose judgment upon him must pass;
The fellow whose verdict counts most in his life,
Is the man staring back from the glass.

He's the fellow to please, never mind the rest,
And he's with you clear up to the end;
And you've passed your most dangerous, difficult test,
If the man in the glass is your friend.

You can fool the whole world down the pathway of years,
And get pats on the back as you pass;
But your first reward will be heartache and tears,
If you've cheated the man in the glass.

Are you happy?
How can you tell?
Does life just flow?
Is everything just swell?

No head full of worries
No heart full of pain
No anguish or sorrow
No frustrated brain
No feathers to ruffle
No temper to flare
But a feeling of lightness
Like gliding on air

...And a pride in your being
The you that you are
Embrace it and cherish it
Now you're the happiness star.

I saw in my dreams we are lifeless,
And lie with a look so tranquil.
A pair of white, white coffins
Set side by side in peace.

When was it, we uttered: "Let's stop it!"
When was it and what does it mean?
But strangely, my heart is not ailing,
My heart is not down with grief.

Powerless feelings are weird,
Frozen thoughts are so clear,
Your lips are no longer dear,
But retain their eternal bliss.

So it happened: we both are lifeless,
And lie with a look so tranquil.
A pair of white, white coffins
Set side by side in peace.

When one does a foolish thing
Of which they can't disclaim
Even if admitting fault
Will bring them total shame

Rise above the shallow pride
And in a proud voice proclaim,
"I Take Responsibility!"
..If there is no one to blame.

I feel like a person engulfed in a bog
With no inclination to take myself off.
The bog is alluring, drawing me down,
In ruthless persistence I'm bearing down.

No one can arrive for the rescue of me,
I am the one who could get out and flee,
I am the one who could get myself clean
Out of this mire, should I have such scheme.

No such scheme, I prefer facing risk,
I know there is nothing to hold me adrift.
The bog will entice me in perilous grip,
I'm falling a victim of dangerous whim.

My love is enticing and bearing me down,
I've fallen its victim, I'll never get out.
I'll stay stupefied and forgetful of mind,
I'd rather I perished, if that is my price.

It's a woman who has an appreciation
Of the world around her
And of her unique place in it...
If she has energy to devote both to work
And to play....


If she has the capacity to give of herself
And to accept graciously
The gifts of others....
If she has people
She trusts and is trusted by,
People she cares about
Who care about her..
If she has a zest for life
And a feeling of kinship with all living things..
If she has the enthusiasm
To welcome each new day
With warmth
And joy
And love...
Then she is truly a successful woman.

If only I could shred all years of my past
And find myself as young as I was wont one time.
Years of endurance teach us that much:
Knowledge, experience aren't gained overnight.
But no matter how precious, dear-bought a gain,
Knowledge, experience compare but in vain
With youthful exploits and bountiful health,
Breathtaking adventures, eccentric escapades.

Oh Youth, the less you're paying heed, the more you will regret.
If young, Old Age, I wouldn't give a damn about what you say.

Can you see us bent over kitchen tables
And our pencil's warm erasers
As we pour our hearts into liquid words upon the lowly page?
Can you see us stopped in parking lots;
Searching for scraps among the floorboards,
Then, with pen to note, we scratch a word to show a life, a love, and age?

We who fight with nature
Never searching, always believing,
We strive against cold, heat and drought to keep the wolves from the door...
But the battle seems wan in comparison
To the war with words we wage,
As we seek to convey a thought, a poem to live and last forevermore.

Why, we were fine and fancy...
No cares beyond the gate
Our only worries keeping calves alive and shipping them eight months later.
Until we tasted immortality
On this life's stage or 'round a campfire
And you, who come to read our words, became the instigator

So we take it all in and write it down
In between the endless chores
Amazed and honored that there are people who read and listen and seem to care
We try to make you laugh and cry
In portraying all we really savvy
And somehow make it all of value and something worthy to share.

Most give little thoughts to such an act
This trying to capture in ink a sunset
When an artist or a photographer can hardly succeed at such a task
Without film or paint or music
Armed with only our imaginations
We connect the dots and record our lives
Our future and our past.

Thus we dance with you as partners
In this waltz of verse and lingo
As long as you continue to listen, we'll try to get it right
With words that bind us close together
Transcending time and borders,
For we are the poets
And you are the reason we write.