Poems Using Figures of Speech

BENGIL, RANILO JAY G.
LIT 21 Philippine Literature

10 August 2016
SIMILE
SONNET CXXX
By: William Shakespeare
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are
dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her
head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and
white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks,
And in some perfumes is there more
delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress
reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know,
That music hath a far more pleasing
sound.
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the
ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as
rare
As any she belied with false compare.
Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You
You
You
But
may shoot me with your words,

may cut me with your eyes,
may kill me with your hatefulness,
still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?

Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
STILL I RISE
By: Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
METAPHOR
DREAMS
By: Langston Hughes
Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Taught me my alphabet to say,

To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A childwith a most knowing eye.
Hold fast to dreams

For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
Of late, eternal condor years

So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by,
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky;
And when an hour with calmer wings
Its down upon my spirit flings,
That little time with lyre and rhyme
To while awayforbidden things
My heart would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings.
THE NIGHT IS A BIG BLACK CAT

By: G. Orr Clark
The Night is a big black cat
The moon is her topaz eye,
The stares are the mice she hunts at
night,
In the filed of the sultry sky.
A BIRTHDAY POEM
By: Ted Kooser
Just past dawn, the sun stands
with its heavy red head
in a black stanchion of trees,
waiting for someone to come
with his bucket
for the foamy white light,
and then a long day in the pasture.
I too spend my days grazing,
feasting on every green moment
till darkness calls,
and with the others
I walk away into the night,
swinging the little tin bell
of my name.
HYPERBOLE
I WANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD

By: William Wordsworth
PERSONIFICATION
ROMANCE
By: Edgar Allan Poe
Romance, who loves to nod and sing
With drowsy head and folded wing
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath beenmost familiar bird
I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazedand gazedbut little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
TO AUTUMN
By: John Keats
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the
thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the mossd cottagetrees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel
shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding
more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,

Until they think warm days will never
cease,
For summer has oer-brimmd their
clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy
store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may
find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing
wind;
Or on a half-reapd furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while
thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined
flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost
keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours
by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where
are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music
too,-While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying
day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy
hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats
mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or
dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly
bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble
soft
The redbreast whistles from a gardencroft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the
skies.

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BENGIL, RANILO JAY G.

LIT 21 Philippine Literature

Just like moons and like suns,

may shoot me with your words,

Does my sexiness upset you?

Hold fast to dreams

Taught me my alphabet to say,

Hold fast to dreams

Of late, eternal condor years

THE NIGHT IS A BIG BLACK CAT

I WANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD

I wandered lonely as a cloud

The waves beside them danced; but they

And still more, later flowers for the bees,

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