Example of Poems With Simile

The simile, or also called comparison, is a rhetorical figure in which two elements are compared to give one the qualities of the other. In this sense, the simile is similar to the metaphor, but the difference is that the simile is formed from a comparative structure, that is, a nexus is needed (for example, What), and in the metaphor there is no connection between:

• "Your eyes like stars that illuminate my night”(Here is a simile in which eyes are compared to the brightness of the stars.
• "Your eyes star”(This rhetorical figure is a metaphor, since a comparative structure is not formed)

Simile is one of the rhetorical figures most used in poems, so it will be very common to find it in more than one stanza.

Simile structure

The simile is formed from comparative adverbs and comparative phrases:

• What: "Your lips like a fountain that feeds my soul”.
• Such as: "The walk of that old man, just like the branches of a tree sway”.
• Which: "He left which ship without a course”
• As well as: "I love you just as the sand loves the waves”

20 Examples of Poems with Similes

1. Your eyes like two stars
   they lit up my sad night,
   and in the loneliest meadows
   you appeared which wolf's mouth
   that caged my passion.
   Your hands like two tides met
   they beat my soul until I was speechless,
   and in your eyes I could understand the glory
   of eternal happiness what a paradise on earth.
   
2. My eyes have stayed like two aimless birds
   who do not know where to look.
   I have lost the certainty of my steps and my feet wander
   like two ghosts without chains on earth,
   like two loves that have grown apart without return.
   My soul does not know the paths that lie ahead,
   And suffers with the prospects that get bigger and smaller,
   without giving explanation. I have stayed like a sea without horizons,
   like the wind that blows without asking for an explanation.
   
3. I love you how dangerous things in this world are loved,
   I love you in a hurry and from afar, contemplating your beauty
   like a wolf howling in the night.
   My lips which traveler lost in the desert
   they look for your mouth like the mystical oasis from which
   they drink the wonders of this world.
   I love you how great things are loved,
   how the greatest tragedies are lived,
   giving the heart to die at the last moment,
   from the arms of your love.
   My lips which seed just planted
   they seek the life of your eyes,
   to be reborn every day with the promise
   of this eternal love.
   
4. The inhabitants are planted in their land like roots that do not want to give,
   like the stone that absorbs the river to remain in its channel,
   thus they protect what is theirs by right,
   what their ancestors built with blood and effort,
   and face like giants with open jaws
   to any stranger who wants to take away their land.
   
5. My heart has remained prey to yours,
   as if an invisible force was pulling from the bottom of my spirit,
   our lives seem linked to the same destiny,
   and we share a point of origin.
   When you leave my hands shake
   like an addict, and that absence terrifies me,
   Knowing that I could lose you
   Stay with me a whole life and together
   let's discover the secrets of this world.
   Always be welcomed in my arms,
   like the sea caressing the shore in a certainty
   millennial.
   
6. Fragment of “Crying for Ignacio Sánches Mejías by Federico García Lorca
   The room was iridescent with agony
   at five in the afternoon.
   In the distance gangrene is coming
   at five in the afternoon.
   
   Trunk of lily by the green English
   at five in the afternoon.
   The wounds they burned like suns
   at five in the afternoon,
   and the crowd broke the windows
   at five in the afternoon.
   
7. "Poema 4" by Pablo Neruda
   It is the morning full of tempest
   in the heart of summer.
   Like goodbye white handkerchiefs the clouds travel,
   the wind shakes them with its traveling hands.
   Countless heart of the wind
   beating over our silence in love.
   Buzzing through the trees, orchestral and divine,
   like a language full of wars and songs.
   Wind that carries the litter in rapid robbery
   and deflects the beating arrows of the birds.
   Wind that knocks her down in a wave without foam
   and weightless substance, and inclined fires.
   It breaks and its volume of kisses submerges
   fought at the gate of the summer wind.
   
8. "Desvelada" by Gabriel Mistral
   As I am a queen and I was a beggar, now
   I live in pure tremor that you leave me,
   and I ask you, pale, every hour:
   Are you still with me? Oh, don't go away! "
   I would like to do the marches smiling
   and trusting now that you have come;
   but even in sleep I'm afraid
   and I ask between dreams: "Have you not gone?"
   
9. "Leconte de Lisle" by Rubén Darío
   Of the eternal muses the sovereign kingdom
   You travel, under a breath of vast inspiration,
   Like a proud rajah on his Indian elephant
   Through its dominions it passes from rough wind to sound.
   You have in your song like echoes of ocean;
   The jungle and the lion are seen in your poetry;
   Wild light radiates the lyre that in your hand
   Pour out its sonorous, robust vibration.
   You the fakir know secrets and avatars;
   To your soul the East gave secular mysteries,
   Legendary visions and oriental spirit.
   Your verse is nourished with sap from the earth;
   Ramayanas glow your living stanza encloses,
   And you sing in the language of the colossal forest.
   
10. "Wealth" by Gabriela Mistral
    I have faithful bliss
    and the lost bliss:
    The nail like rose,
    the other like thorn.
    Of what they stole from me
    I was not dispossessed;
    I have faithful happiness
    and the lost happiness,
    and I'm rich in purple
    and melancholy.
    Oh, what a lover the rose is
    and how beloved the thorn!
    Like the double contour
    of two twin fruits
    I have faithful happiness
    and the lost bliss.
    
11. I can not find myself no matter how much I navigate without vigilance,
    I have escaped from myself and I do not recognize myself in these
    hands that accuse me like night watchmen,
    nor in these eyes that look at me like a little one at the first reflection of it.
    I can't find myself in this aging body
    in this life that is exhausted in my drooping eyelids,
    in this chest that screams without making a single noise
    as if outside everything turned and inside everything was stopped.
    I can not soften my gaze to understand the joys that I see today,
    nor do I understand goodbyes, loves, life and death,
    like a foreigner without a country I wander between streets that
    only my memory recognizes, and I sit down once more to see the afternoon,
    next to my stranger in the reflection of the window
    
12. "The fire of each day" by Octavio Paz
    Like the air
    makes and undoes
    on the pages of geology,
    on the planetary tables,
    its invisible buildings:
    the man.
    His language is just a grain,
    but burning,
    in the palm of space.
    Syllables are incandescences.
    They are also plants:
    its roots
    they fracture the silence,
    its branches
    they build houses of sounds.
    Syllables:
    they link and unlink,
    they play
    to the similarities and dissimilarities.
    Syllables:
    they ripen on the fronts,
    they bloom in the mouths.
    Its roots
    they drink at night, they eat light.
    Idioms:
    glowing trees
    of rainy foliage.
    Lightning vegetations,
    echo geometries:
    on the sheet of paper
    the poem is done
    like the day
    on the palm of space.
    
    
13. "Paths of the mirror" (fragment) by Alejandra Pizarnik
    I
    And above all look innocently. As if nothing happened, which is true.
    II
    But I want to look at you until your face moves away from my fear like a bird from the edge
    sharp of the night.
    III
    Like a pink chalk girl on a very old wall suddenly erased by the rain.
    IV
    Like when a flower opens and reveals the heart that it does not have.
    V
    All the gestures of my body and my voice to make me the offering, the bouquet that leaves
    the wind on the threshold.
    SAW
    Cover the memory of your face with the mask of who you will be and scare the girl you were.
    VII
    The night of the two dispersed with the fog. It is the season of cold foods.
    VIII
    And thirst, my memory is of thirst, me down, deep down, in the well, I drank, I remember.
    IX
    Fall like an animal wounded in the place that was to be of revelations.
    X
    Who does not want the thing. Not a thing. Sewn mouth. Stitched eyelids. I forgot.
    Inside the wind. All closed and the wind inside.
    
14. Your absence hurts me like a wound stuck in the depths of the soul,
    and I carry your memory like a prisoner who drags his chains,
    condemned to wander for eternity crying out your name in my dreams and my nightmares.