Originally posted by dsnake1:
my attempt. at metaphors.
[b]Love Is
is an old 16 inch TV that sometimes acts funny, snowy,
we laughed and we don't mind
because it is the first one we managed to buy.
is the stars in the sky, in the constellations,the heavens
when you explained their names
Sirius, Cassiopeia, and she smiles and shakes her head in
bewilderment
is a six-pack of beer you shared with her on New Year's eve,
laughing ,kissing,
as we tossed empty cans into the sky,
the ships in the harbour honked, tribes chanting ,twelve
midnight.
is a teaspoon of morphine , a bitter surrender of battle,
without it she cannot forget the pain
the razor sharp stabs, the cancerous cells pushing against her
brain.
is a serrated knife that slices the heart, twisting bleeding
till in your numbed grieving
you no longer feel the pain, the loss, of her leaving.
is a marble slab with a photo and indentations in the stone
that was her name, as i brushed my finger
over gilt letters, sobbing, do I realised how much I missed
her.
--01/09/05-----------
Actually i wrote about DEATH , this being the 7th month, but love
won.
[/b]
I really like this.
This poem will go far with some revisions. 
