Bad metaphors, cliches, and weight loss

Me

After Karina Fabian posted the link on Facebook, I read this article on bad metaphors. Thus inspired, I dug out some of my old poems.

On bad metaphors — bad  metaphors and cliches have no place in a poem. Not, at least, in a serious poem.

Eat Your Sour Grapes

Today is the first day
you ran like a deer —
in the dead of night
you ran like a bat out of hell.

Time and again, you go like the wind
but you can’t get there from here —
all you do is run like a chicken
with its head cut off.

 

Two Impossible Things

My elbow jabs.
I see the back
of my forearm.

I punch air.
I see a vein pulse
at the crook.

But however I twist,
I can’t see
behind my back,

and try as I might
I can’t get my head
up my ass.

 

On weight loss – yes, it can be discouraging. And the older I get, the harder it is to take the weight off.

The Trouble with Life

I get older and older,
fatter and fatter,
until I give in,
try on Spring
in the next size,
and it’s already too small.

 

 

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