Poem
By Joshua Seigal
I don’t like similes.Every time I try to think of onemy brain feels like a vast, empty desert;my eyes…
Category
Alliteration
Showing 1-20 of 114 results
- PoemBy UnknownLēodum is mīnum swylce him mon lāc gife;
willað hȳ hine āþecgan gif hē on þrēat cymeð.
Ungelīc is ū… - ArticleBy Sarah ArvioMetaphor in Lorca is a form of gorgeous shorthand.
- Glossary TermsThe repetition of initial stressed, consonant sounds in a series of words within a phrase or verse line. Alliteration need not reuse all initial consonants; “pizza” and “place” alliterate.
- ArticleBy Eric WeiskottA melancholy medieval rent collector’s sorrows, scribbled on the back of a legal document
- PoemBy John TickhillIn a sesone of somere þat souerayne ys of alle,
Þat was þe myry monþ of May when many myrthys spryng,
Þe sonne ys somnore and syre and sendyth tyl vs doun,
And byddyth vs bisy for to be oure bodys for to glade;
Man for to myrth hym in al maner wys,
Bestys for to buske ham on bentys tyl abyde, - ArticleBy Julie IrigarayA hymn to female independence in the form of a withering critique of marriage
- PoemBy UnknownWrætlic hongað bi weres þeo,
frean under sceate. Foran is þyrel.
Bið stiþ ond heard, stede hafað godne;
þonne se esne his agen hrægl
ofer cneo hefeð, wile þæt cuþe hol
mid his hangellan heafde gretan
þæt he efenlang ær oft gefylde. - PoemBy UnknownMec feonda sum feore besnyþede,
woruldstrenga binom, wætte siþþan,
dyfde on wætre, dyde eft þonan,
sette on sunnan, þær ic swiþe beleas
herum þam þe ic hæfde. Heard mec siþþan
snað seaxses ecg, sindrum begrunden;
fingras feoldan, ond mec fugles wyn
geond speddropum spyrede geneahhe,
ofer brunne brerd,... - PoemBy UnknownIc wat indryhtne æþelum deorne
giest in geardum, þam se grimma ne mæg
hungor sceððan ne se hata þurst,
yldo ne adle. Gif him arlice
esne þenað, se þe agan sceal
on þam siðfate, hy gesunde æt ham
findað witode him wiste ond blisse,
cnosles unrim, care,... - PoemBy UnknownIc on wincle gefrægn weaxan nathwæt,
þindan ond þunian, þecene hebban;
on þæt banlease bryd grapode,
hygewlonc hondum, hrægle þeahte
þrindende þing þeodnes dohtor. - PoemBy UnknownMoððe word fræt. Me þæt þuhte
wrætlicu wyrd, þa ic þæt wundor gefrægn,
þæt se wyrm forswealg wera gied sumes,
þeof in þystro, þrymfæstne cwide
ond þæs strangan staþol. Stælgiest ne wæs
wihte þy gleawra, þe he þam wordum swealg. - PoemBy UnknownWenne, wenne, wenchichenne,
her ne scealt þu timbrien, ne nenne tun habben,
ac þu scealt north eonene to þan nihgan berhge,
þer þu hauest, ermig, enne broþer.
He þe sceal legge leaf et heafde.
Under... - PoemBy UnknownA moth ate words. A marvelous fate
it seemed to me, when I heard of that wonder,
that a worm could swallow some man’s song,
a thief in the dark, tales of glory
and their firm foundation. That thieving guest
was none the wiser for... - PoemBy UnknownTranslated By Roy M. LiuzzaSomething’s swelling over in the corner,
rising and standing, raising its cover.
A haughty bride grabbed that boneless thing
with her hands, and the prince’s daughter
slipped that swelling thing under a cloth. - PoemBy UnknownA marvelous thing hangs by a man’s thigh,
under his tunic. There’s a hole at the tip;
it’s stiff and strong and set in a good place.
When a young lord lifts his cloak
over his knees, there's a well-known hole
he hopes to greet... - PoemBy UnknownTranslated By Roy M. LiuzzaI know a noble guest within the gates,
whom great men love. Grim hunger
cannot harm him, nor hot thirst,
nor illness or age. If the servant
treats him well, who must go with him
on his journey, then food and joy
they will find ready... - PoemBy Richard Rolle[Alle perisches and passes pat we with eghe see]
It wanes into wrechednes, þe welth of þis worlde.
Robes and ritches rotes in dike,
Prowde payntyng slakes into sorow,
Delites and drewryse stynk sal ful sone,
Þair golde and þaire tresoure drawes þam til dede.
Al... - PoemBy UnknownSwarte smekyd smepes smateryd wyth smoke.
dryue me to deth wyth den of here dyntes.
Swech noys on nyghtes ne herd men neuer.
what knauene cry & clateryng of knockes
þe cammede kongons cryen after col col.
& blowen here bellewys þat al here brayn...