What are examples of poems with similes, personification, and metaphors?
AdonisThe poet from Arab. He hates the status quo of his country, about politics, religion, and wars. So there are a lot of poems that shout to against the situation, they are tough and sharp, but pass all of that, something hidden is a heart that hot and soft.‘What is the prevailing morality?’‘Candle, that is about to extinguish in a suffocating cave.’‘The land of Arad is sad, her sadness is the wrinkle on the forehead of language.’‘Time stopped in Arab’s society. Despite this, it looks like only the time is still working.’‘Despair has fingers, but it only could catch the butterfly that dead already. ’‘Metaphor is a migration. Between fire and fire, between death and death.’Wound (Selected)If I had a harbor in the landof dreams and mirrors, if I had a ship,if I had the remainsof a city, if I had a cityin the land of children and weeping,I would have written all this down for the wound’s sake,a song like a spearthat penetrates trees, stone, and sky,soft like waterunbridled, startling like conquest.Desert (Selected)You will see—say his namesay you drew his facereach out your hand toward himor smileor say I was happy onceor say I was sad onceyou will see:there is no country there.Some information is from the internet.AdonisAdunis - Wikipedia
Example of confession poem?
The word usually used is "confessional" poem. One famous one is Robert Lowell's "Walking in the Blue," http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/waking-blue, and another is Sylvia Plath's "Lady Lazarus," http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/lady-lazarus.
What are is an example of an alliteration for love?
Alliteration is the occurrence of the same or similar sound or letter at the beginning of consecutive or closely connected words. For example, slithering snakes sneak and skulk. The repetition of 's' in this example not only supplies an image of a snake, but repeats the sound 's' which the reader will subconsciously hear as a hissing noise.Alliterative phrases for love would include "long lost love" or "Louie loves lean ladies with long lanky legs."
What are the characteristics of confessional poetry?
I have a confession to make that I know little about confessional poetry, so I looked on Google, Wikipedia, and other places, the first thing I noticed is it seems to have to be in first person, i.e. from the point of view of “I”…Being about a confession it tends to have content regarding a negative event such as death, trauma, depression or relationships… Some may see it as therapeutic, a way to express how they feel. Which in the end kind of gives it an almost apologetic feel since the writer gets the chance to explain how the turn of events come about or why they feel and/or acted the way they do/did.I haven’t seen any with rhyme nor any particular meter that I could distinguish, so I’m not even entirely certain what makes these poems technically poetic as such.Hopefully this information helps some and I wish you good luck in the future.
How Is Imagery Used In The Poem 'Telephone Conversation'?
how is imagery used in the poem Telephone Conversation by Wole Soyinka? here's the poem: The price seemed reasonable, location Indifferent. The landlady swore she lived Off premises. Nothing remained But self-confession. “Madam,” I warned, 5 “I hate a wasted journey—I am African.” Silence. Silenced transmission of Pressurized good-breeding. Voice, when it came, Lipstick coated, long gold-rolled Cigarette-holder pipped. Caught I was, foully. 10 “HOW DARK?” . . . I had not misheard . . . “ARE YOU LIGHT OR VERY DARK?” Button B. Button A. Stench Of rancid breath of public hide-and-speak. Red booth. Red pillar-box. Red double-tiered Omnibus squelching tar. It was real! Shamed 15 By ill-mannered silence, surrender Pushed dumbfoundment to beg simplification. Considerate she was, varying the emphasis— “ARE YOU DARK? OR VERY LIGHT?” Revelation came. “You mean—like plain or milk chocolate?” 20 Her assent was clinical, crushing in its light Impersonality. Rapidly, wavelength adjusted, I chose. “West African sepia”—and as an afterthought, “Down in my passport.” Silence for spectroscopic Flight of fancy, till truthfulness clanged her accent 25 Hard on the mouthpiece. “WHAT’S THAT?” conceding, “DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS.” “Like brunette.” “THAT’S DARK, ISN’T IT?” “Not altogether. Facially, I am brunette, but madam, you should see The rest of me. Palm of my hand, soles of my feet 30 Are a peroxide blonde. Friction, caused— Foolishly, madam—by sitting down, has turned My bottom raven black—One moment madam!”—sensing Her receiver rearing on the thunderclap About my ears—“Madam,” I pleaded, “wouldn’t you rather 35 See for yourself?” Thanks!
Poem or short story that features a one-sided phone conversation?
Telephone Conversation - Wole Soyinka This is a fine example of dramatic monologue... The price seemed reasonable, location Indifferent. The landlady swore she lived Off premises. Nothing remained But self-confession. “Madam,” I warned, “I hate a wasted journey—I am African.” Silence. Silenced transmission of Pressurized good-breeding. Voice, when it came, Lipstick coated, long gold rolled Cigarette-holder pipped. Caught I was foully. “HOW DARK?” . . . I had not misheard . . . “ARE YOU LIGHT OR VERY DARK?” Button B, Button A.* Stench Of rancid breath of public hide-and-speak. Red booth. Red pillar box. Red double-tiered Omnibus squelching tar. It was real! Shamed By ill-mannered silence, surrender Pushed dumbfounded to beg simplification. Considerate she was, varying the emphasis– “ARE YOU DARK? OR VERY LIGHT?” Revelation came. “You mean–like plain or milk chocolate?” Her assent was clinical, crushing in its light Impersonality. Rapidly, wave-length adjusted, I chose. “West African sepia”–and as afterthought, “Down in my passport.” Silence for spectroscopic Flight of fancy, till truthfulness clanged her accent Hard on the mouthpiece. “WHAT’S THAT?” conceding “DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS.” “Like brunette.” “THAT’S DARK, ISN’T IT?” “Not altogether. Facially, I am brunette, but, madam, you should see The rest of me. Palm of my hand, soles of my feet Are a peroxide blond. Friction, caused– Foolishly, madam–by sitting down, has turned My bottom raven black–One moment, madam!”–sensing Her receiver rearing on the thunderclap About my ears–”Madam,” I pleaded, “wouldn’t you rather See for yourself?” There are many sites offering a summary etc., of this fabulous poem... -------