Life is a metaphor

It may be day six of a 21-day COVID-19 lockdown in South Africa, but it is the first day of National Poetry Writing Month again! It is an annual challenge which I excitedly anticipate each year because it stretches and hones my poetry writing skills like none other.

Today's challenge is to write a self-portrait poem in which we "make a specific action a metaphor" for our lives; "one that typically isn't done all that often, or only in specific circumstances."

I think this challenge is very apt given the worldwide crisis we are facing because many of us are working from home, socially distancing and generally rethinking the way in which we live.

As excruciating as social distancing and isolation may be to some (I do respect this - truly), I am enjoying the peace and quiet that is much needed after many rough months in my life. Therefore, I would like to write a poem on a lighter note - from a positive perspective - using various figures of speech.

When Life became a hermit

Life became a hermit,

huddled in her flat,

safe from strange happenings

She washed the dishes,

and dusted at midday;

saved her leftover lunches

Life played her music

and danced all around

between her many emails

She sat on the grass,

sketching a tiny clover,

enjoying the afternoon sun

Life watched movies,

and had video chats,

playing D&D with friends

She did not mind

the peace, the quiet;

in-between the busy times

Andrea Vermaak © 2020

Argot

Today's challenge is really challenging to say the least! We are challenged 'to think about the argot of a particular job or profession' and try to 'incorporate it into a metaphor that governs or drives' the poem.

I have chosen to use a phrase doctors usually use as code to indicate that a patient is expected to pass away soon. However, I want to use this phrase in a tongue-in-cheek manner, presenting it as a pun.

Circling the drain

The eight-legged critter

stood its ground

as the shower 

poured over it

It clung to 

the shower curtain,

but I did not give up either

It slid –

a victory!

No, its stubborn 

feet gripped

the bath's peeling enamel

Surely one last blast

of hot water

would send it swimming?

A pummelling 

of torrents

– at last! –

sent it spiralling,

circling the drain

Il vino e l'amore

A prompt was to write a poem about wine and love. I have taken it a step further and used wine as a sustained metaphor of love that is beyond repair.

 

 

Bitter Sweet

 

Bitter sweet is our love,

Stained upon our minds,

Our lips

 

Our sour grapes,

We cannot contain

 

Our shattered hearts

Cut the hands

We once held

In desperate longing

 

We stomped on our feelings,

Releasing the anguish

Ripe within us

 

We have tasted despair,

Spit out our anger

 

No more will we drink

Of this vine

 

 

Andrea Vermaak