ToolsPersonification
Alliteration
Assonance
Onomatopoeia
Rhyme
Slant Rhyme
Rhythm
Hyperbole
Imagery
Line
Metaphor
Similie
Repetition
Irony
Repetition
Diction
Tone!
cats gutsOh I drop my guts out… All the time, Numb. Nudge gently there now: I’m wrapped around by them. I am made sick dizzy Cause someone’s pulling And spinning me around, This ain’t no yarn ball.cats guts
If I’m not spinning my yarn, Then listen, and tug more. But not on my guts kitty.
Nudge me gently, I drop guts over kitties.
The whirlwindI was spoken to so classically, Articulated visions from the sky Dome, cerulean as I am found, Preoccupied staring at clouds. A wandering asked, how here Have I come? Wordlessly, Gave a lesson, too: I feared, then, Head gently pressed in, pinched Skin around, crowning teeth ofThe whirlwind
The untamed lion spoke. Throat agape Black hole, a single swallow could Witness death, life, and the time But bawl against What I don’t know here, What I see here, What I say here, What I hear here, Must stay here. Dense presence is soul. I accidentally s
A weird wood walkDeciduous trees loom over above, and rustle.A weird wood walk
They straighten their backs when questioned, Sprinkling duff where tiny critter feet jitter Dried scales from the brittle tree branches Bouncing overhead, wearing green laurels of Pride, proof, and preparation for winter. All lay
On them: one leaf counts for an acorn stored. So more, more. There on the path, leafy limbs Yearned and yearn, but not back like From flame, as Eucalyptus bendings do. Ephemeral erections again stand, a forest behind Walking, empty of ornament, bare, With bald lashes: a smothere
Metaphor for good thingsIf only walls were cocoons. Solid Wall might morph in a dream: I’d Stretch, seep in me; watery, as ink Spreads. Then the cocoon, extolled,Metaphor for good things
Aborted, her light magnet emerges, Goddamn goddamn goddamn! Spans densely, and glow immense! Our butterfly absorbs wonderly Glances, rendered to fatally brighten: Final fleeting petrifies the life. So the best perches are flowers.
Passersby’s don’t provide ponder. Camouflage, a wash of petal, pollen: Absent of flight, no eye would see. Then down in the plush of colors, Pillow visions soften, atrophy, deaden
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Welcome to dA.
--
The definition of a poet: [link]
-(HOOKILLSILENTLY)-
I am Hook. But I am not silent.
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