If a person wants to be a body builder, it’s necessary to not only exercise but to eat healthy and to train properly when it comes to lifting weights. If you to be a pro at any sport, you need to practice not just playing the game but different techniques and strategies that are going to play a significant role in how well you play the game. Writing is definitely not an exception to the rule. One of the exercises my practicum professor suggested that I do is to come up with similes and metaphors. Even though it was fun, I must admit that I flexed some muscles I have not been using as frequently as I should. I came up with thirty different similes and metaphors, and would like to share ten of them with you. They may not all be the best, but it’s all in fun.
Your love is a 366-day-old lottery ticket.
You are the plucked gray hair no one will ever know about.
Caught in your speed trap with an expired license.
His words cut like a knife made out of play dough
Cumbersome like Shaquille O’Neal walking a tightrope backwards in six-inch heels.
I rise like a congratulations balloon escaping the grasp of a proud mother.
Relieved like a rose escaping the snip leading to its wilting death.
Count on me like an abacus.
Hard as thirteen year old gum under high school desks
Sorted out thoughts like a recycling center
If you have a fun simile or metaphor, please feel free to share.
I just started an MFA program in Creative Writing for poetry, and a main component of one of the courses I am taking is participating in workshops where I provide feedback (I prefer the word feedback to criticism) on the work of my classmates, and they provide feedback, which I try not to take as harsh criticism, on my work. Having someone look at my work, my heartfelt, overflowing-with-emotions work, has proven to be even more difficult than I expected. I’ve always struggled with confrontation, shying away from it whenever possible, and in some weird way, I am being confronted about poems on which I have worked so diligently and hard to produce. Last week, I submitted my first set of poems, and I am pleased to say the feedback was not as severe as I thought it would be; nevertheless, the differing opinions and suggestions and the picking apart of my poems line by line is a lot to process. It has left me mentally depleted pondering over what feedback I should accept and which ideas I should discard. Having a support system is wonderful, but how do I not lose my voice as a writer and not simply conform to what others think is best for my work or my writing style?
What’s interesting is that this dilemma has got me thinking about an ultimate workshop: discovering me. An internal conflict I still struggle with in my everyday life is wanting the approval of others and upholding an image others deem appropriate or noteworthy. My poems cannot and will not be everything to everybody. Some people will be quite fond of them, and some people will loathe them. Therefore, trying to figure out how I should revise my poems or if I should even revise them at all is a pinnacle moment leading to a huge turning point for me. I am being forced to make decisions on my work, and there is no way around it. As a result, I am discovering more about me and what I think is best based on other people’s insight. This line of thinking extends well beyond my poetry, and with each passing day I am finding out a little more about myself, what I like and dislike and trying to figure out how to filter through the beneficial thoughts of others without getting caught up in what they think is best for me. It will be a lifelong workshop, but I can already sense some growth occurring.
What did I want to be for Halloween?
I HAD a favorite costume
Every year the same concept, slightly modified.
I couldn’t wait to try it on.
One year, a cowboy…not a cowgirl.
I’ll take the trousers, not the skirt.
Another year, an Indian chief
No Pocahontas for me!
After that, let’s try half man half woman.
Watch their eyes widen when they see me comin’
Ain’t that somethin’
So fascinated with dressing up like a man
But can’t understand why.
Was I showing early signs of being transgender?
I remember always being called a “tomboy.”
Did I have a affinity towards the look of a man?
I can admit that I’ve always found comfort in loosely fit clothing.
Looking back now, I think I have a clue.
Too many people to count, even strangers,
Which makes it stranger…
Remark about how I resemble my dad from his features to his gestures,
But these gestures enhanced the mark of resentment
My father had for having a female child in his likeness
Like this was something I could control,
Told on occasions, “Stop lookin’ like me!”
How frightening it was
To feel unloved at times.
But instead of shoving me in the other direction
with hatred festering
I sought out a way to fulfill his dream,
Or so it seemed.
I mean…I gleamed with excitement
as I looked at my reflection
knowing that I’d get my dad’s affection
with me hair tucked under my hat,
I just knew he was gonna like that!
Checking out my painted on mustache
And thick side burns
Took me years to learn that all attempts would be abortive.
Though my mom seemed supportive…
Shaking her head…
“You look just like your dad!”
You are everything I want in a man. In truth, you transcend what I imagined. Let me satisfy you all that I can take you on journeys you cannot fathom, continually display what true love means even if you may not often say it. Reflections of you, my countenance beams; many methods you use to convey it. You genuinely care about how I feel. Minds’ connected: my thoughts you complete. To me my love you’re a wonderful thrill I’m here to stay; I refuse to retreat. Will still be in love beyond year ten; married life I want with you to begin.
By Tanya Harris aka Anonomz Written for and Inspired by SPF
Your resplendent nature leaves me enthralled out of the ordinary one might say. Came to me without a trawl Unfaltering love for you every day. Warm-hearted, chivalrous and caring too, call me your committed doting lover. You continually make our love feel new promise me we’ll always have each other. Boundless: my devotion towards us growing can’t imagine tiring of your face all of you, absolutely engrossing There’s not one moment with you I’d erase. Thinking about you leaves me elated. Hope that you are just as captivated. By
Tanya Harris aka Anonomz Written for and Inspired by SPF
“The most original, amazing, astounding, miraculous remarkable, startling, sensational, stupendous music, that has ever been created is ours – but believe me it was complicated But we have done it, so now we can breathe a long awaited sigh of relief This isn’t a publicity stunt It’s the raw untouched, pure, hard brand new funk!”
—DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince, “Brand New Funk”
This month, I would like to pay homage to some of the Philly rappers from the past and present who have made an impact on this culture and on me. When I think about a rap group who really put Philly on the map on a national and even international level, I think of DJ Jazzy Jeff (Jeff Townes) and the Fresh Prince (Will Smith) without hesitation.
I was in grade school when I was first introduced to this magnificent duo, and they were actually artists played on the radio who my mom even liked. Of course, some people may complain that Fresh Prince’s lyrics were squeeky clean or “bubble gum” raps, but what’s wrong with that? I was a little kid and loved his music. He got the most air play at the skating rink when I was younger.
DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince released the song, “Brand New Funk” around 1987. Even though the song was released during the summer, I will never forget the first time I really began listening to the lyrics rather than simply bopping my head to the beat. My art teacher would allow students to bring in music to listen to as we worked on our classroom projects, and this kid Bernard brought in DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince. The delivery of the lyrics had me entranced so much that I learned the song line by line.
What is it that makes these lyrics so profound? Two words: vocabulary enhancement! I have always loved learning new words, and “Brand New Funk” helped me to expand my vocabulary. In many of Fresh Prince’s songs, I’d learn a new word. There was something “miraculous” about his style. He was beyond simply using slang and a handful of curse words. He is one of the reasons I started writing raps.
When is the last time your vocabulary was enhanced as a result of listening to a rap song? Do you ever look up words recited in rap songs that you don’t know, or do you just sing along never knowing what you’re actually saying? Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince released many catchy songs throughout the 1980s and 1990s, but this song in particular will always be a classic to me. How “stupendous” is it to be able to dance to a rap song with a “funky” beat and get a vocabulary lesson simultaneously?
Please feel free to share your thoughts
~Anonomz aka Tanya Harris
Bonus English Lesson: Fresh Prince employs a couplet rhyme in these lyrics; however, some of them are actually slant rhymes focusing on the assonance (vowel) sound within the word, such as “breathe” and “relief” or “stunt” and “funk.”
People just need to admit that they’ve got love for the Devil.
Before you think my life must be disheveled
let me level with you.
I’m not a heathen;
I’ve got my reasons for this strong assertion.
By all means, I’m a spiritual person,
which is actually what got this thought picking at me,
Won’t rest: it’s what’s getting me to speak out.
No doubt, the devil has his place
in most religious doctrine
having bouts with God and his people, including me of course.
But what I’ve observed is how some folks treat the two
like they’re equal
giving this “Devil” what desires.
Cue the sanctimonious choir to bellow out
“The Devil is a liar!”
Of course, he is…but is he the only one?
Yes, we’re all guilty of telling a lie or two
omitting the truth,
but some people lie to themselves about how much
they want or even need the Devil in their lives
almost as much as they need God.
Sounds twisted don’t it?
Well, let me break it down for you.
Thank God for that new ride,
but rebuke the spirit of Satan as the repo men
hook your car up to the tow truck.
Made you get that Audi A6 hot off the lot
on a minimum wage pay check
Was it not you who failed to be circumspect?
Wow, look at how God moves!
Blessed you with the perfect spouse.
Shortly thereafter, calling out Lucifer
as the reason for your broken house.
Life is just not fair!
Forced you into having an affair
because you have no free will right?
Thank God for the job interview you thought you’d never get.
Stressing about receiving your last unemployment check.
Now you want to dance all over the Devil’s head.
Had you dead tired, hung over
celebrating the night before
for a job you ain’t even got yet!
Dancing on his head?
More like a warm embrace as you waltz through the
church
mosque
temple doors
letting him take the lead.
Sounds like that’s what you want to me.
Praise God, you dodged a bullet!
That’s all you need is one more mouth to feed.
But come next month
it’s all on the Prince of Demons
when your semen got you
caught up with baby mama number five
Why?
Just stop it! I got it!
Who truly wants to experience shame?
Most look for a way to shift the blame.
Don’t give a second thought to God
teaching you a lesson
or that your so called mishap
might actually be a blessing.
Got to love that Devil!
Endlessly, people search for perfect mates
hoping to find that instant connection.
Serendipity crossed: both our fates,
Souls brought together from inception.
Even if in soul mates you don’t believe,
deny not this insurmountable force.
Authentic it is. God would not deceive;
together He put us on the same course.
Identical, obviously we’re not,
though complementary to one another.
Let nobody separate what we’ve got
my confidante, dearest friend and lover.
It is with you whom I want to grow old.
Deep in our hearts cherished moments we’ll hold.
by Tanya Harris aka Anonomz Written for and Inspired by SPF
See my heart smile at the sound of your voice;
feel it flutter when you utter my name.
Your succulent kisses: gentle and moist
my feelings for you can barely be tamed.
Turn on when you rub my thigh when we drive
or you lovingly stroke through my tresses.
For my happiness you constantly strive;
I want all of you my heart confesses.
Amorous banter and romantic gazes
sensual moments: your hand meets my waist.
Truly in love, to me this amazes.
Scrumptious morsels of you I yearn to taste.
What an immeasurable attraction.
Need and want you, love you with a passion.
by Tanya Harris aka Anonomz
Written for and Inspired by SPF
Journey of Anonomz 
