Similes
Look through a book of poems (or the packets) you like, and find a few similes to use as inspiration. Now go someplace where you can observe nature, people, traffic, or something. Based on what you notice, begin listing some similes. They don’t have to make complete sense. Don’t think about what else you would write with them. Just write whatever you think of.
Some examples:
“Sounds of leaves moving overhead like so many whispered conversations.' —Jane Kenyon
“He slumps like the very meaning of surrender.' —Ted Kooser
“Lawyers encircled the farm like a fence.' —Ted Kooser
Be sure to make a comment on a classmates post for full credit.
Tometria Jackson
Her thoughts were frantic like the churning of a duck’s feet below the surface of a pond.
The loud shrieks and cries of delight of the children on the playground were like the energetic calls of seagulls on a beach.
The emotional storm of her grieving emotions was like the currents of the ocean; rising and falling with the tide.
The emptiness in his stomach felt like rats gnawing on the bars of a cage.
The child’s laughter bubbled up like spring water in a fountain.
The emotional shock hit him like a punch to the gut.
The comfort of her mothers embrace was like being wrapped in a warm blanket.
Gazing into the eyes of his beloved gave him the feeling of falling down a deep well.
Doubts chipped away at his confidence like chickens pecking corn.
The sting of rejection was like a slap across the face.
Lilia Lundquist
I like how many of these are relatable feelings made into similes, while others make you think a little more. My favorite was your child’s laughter comparison and the frantic thoughts. I thought using the ducks feet lightened the line and made it somewhat comical.
Courtney Williamson
I like all these similes that you have presented, they are very relatable.
Kelsey
I hear such emotion in these. As soon as I read them, I am able to feel the doubt eating away at me or hear the children laughing. Thanks for sharing!
Lilia Lundquist
The anxiety hit her like a bug on a car windshield
They all dispersed from the scene like gun a shy dog in the field
He gazed at her like a dog with a new toy
The air hugged my skin like a fitted cashmere sweater
Her scream broke the silence like a glass on marble floors
The kids rolled around in the yard like marbles in a bowl
Tometria Jackson
What I like about similes is that they can be tweaked to fit the emotion the author is trying to convey. Your first simile gives me the mental picture of a nervous teen-age girl whose problems seem unavoidable when in reality they aren’t as serious as she thinks. I love how all of that can be perceived through a cleverly worded simile!
Courtney Williamson
Hi Lilia,
Your similes are pretty great, I feel like I can hear the bug hitting the car windshield.
Benjamin Hayward
I can hear the sounds in all of these. Nice!
nmfleming
Children call out my name like I’m a buoy who will save them.
The screeching of the steering wheel turning is like best friends who have not seen each other in years.
The slapping of metal spatulas against the hot grill is like fish jumping out of water.
The news broadcast sounds like the adults from Charlie Brown.
The car’s headlights were as bright as the sun.
Courtney Kisner
I love the one about children calling out your name as if you are a buoy. Not only can I picture it, but I can resonate with that feeling of being this tool to save someone, but in reality you’re just kind of floating along trying to mind your own business. The news broadcast sounding like the adults from Charlie Brown is so accurate, and also something I think a lot of people can relate to. Great similes!
Jess Young
Your first simile made me smile and totally hit home! I love the way you captured the helplessness and desperation in a child’s call.
Courtney Williamson
His fair skin is desirable
Blue eyes like the summer sky
I kiss his soft lips in a trance
Connection like electricity
Together forever like a waltz in a dream
Courtney Kisner
The iron clinked together like two enemies kissing.
His face crinkled upwards in the gym mirror like he was trying to carry the world on his back.
The gym chit-chat blended together like background music you can’t tune out.
The harsh gym lights hit skin and muscle like the sun revealing the shadow of trees.
People stood around machines like eighth graders at a dance, but no one is dancing.
The jazzercise class shakes like their lives depend on it.
I try not to stand around like a lost child at an amusement park.
Humidity clung to cotton muscle shirts as if paint without a hand and a brush.
People stand in others’ way, like they are off in space somewhere and only their body is here.
Benjamin Hayward
The Big Voice here in Afghanistan is like my father harshly reminding me to do what he says to stay safe.
I reported to work to day like a hippo looking for food, slow and drowsey.
The gearshift on the work truck grinds its gears like a banshii protesting being choaked.
The dominoes rattle on the table like the bones of a snake coiling to strike.
The sound of the walking cane is like the sound of the frog’s butt hitting the ground every time he hops.
The cry of the cat is like the cry of a baby, they both want something, and they want it now.
Money talks to me like imaginary people telling me goodbye.
Life is like orange juice, if you don’t like orange juice- make lemonade.
My co-workers are like social liberals, dodging responsibilities and blaming others.
Time is like a referee, it is on no one’s side.
Jess Young
The rain pounded like a drum.
The wood was golden as the sun.
The man stood at attention, as though he was the only pillar holding a building in ruin.
The truck slowed achingly to a stop, creaking like an old man settling into his favorite chair.
You could see her weighing her choices, feeling out each decision in its entirety, like a blind man learning a face.
She was as stubborn and predictable as the moon and tides.
The stubble sprouted from his chin like the grass in spring – sparse and stiff, fighting for life.
The glass was spotted, dirty, and threatened to break at any moment, like a window in a dingy cabin.
Kait
You’re similes are so descriptive! Each was a clear picture as soon as I read them. Your choice of words flow really nicely with each other. The one that I really like is the truck slowing to a stop, because I visit with my grandpa a lot 🙂
Kelsey
She felt them began to pick her apart, like a lion picks out his prey.
They felt as lazy as a hound dog on a hot Sunday morning.
She felt a level of uneasiness that wasn’t all that explainable, like when you hear a stranger’s baby crying close to you.
The excitement came bursting out of her, like little children’s feet scampering from the bedroom to the living room on Christmas morning to see what surprises Santa had left.
Weariness engulfed her, as she closed her eyes, and rode the waves of the migraine like waves crashing into the sandy shore.
Angela Rodriguez
I love you simile of the migraine! You can sometimes physically tell that someone is pain with a migraine or anything! Great Job
Kait
He walks like the pride an ape has after a triumph, she talks fast like the buzz of a fly also flicking her fingers like the nervousness of one, the little boy walked like the bounce of a baby deer, a mother scolds her twins like a mother bear bellows to her wrestling cubs, the little girl cries like the sound of a siren.
Angela Rodriguez
The bickering screams were like children fighting during play
The typing of his keyboard sounded like a woodpecker’s nose against a tree
The negativity lingered as if a dark cloud was hanging over the room
I sat in their home uncomfortable like I was getting my teeth cleaned at the dentist
The man walked into work like the world was on his shoulders
As the couple left the room it was like the room instantly became brighter
swaring2
You have a nice descriptive word choice and leave enough to the imagination for the story to go many different ways. I also enjoy how the beginning is a totally different feel than the ending.
swaring2
Excitement radiating through the walls like the smell of freshly baked cookies
Laughter, smiles, running, imagination could fill a canvas as vibrant as a Picasso piece
Sore muscles, tired eyes, soft pillow, dreadful first step onto the cold floor
Warm hands, soft kisses, exploding heart
Beauty arose with the morning sun with another day of a child’s love