IT Home Learning Lesson 1: Figurative Language

Below is a poem that I found interesting.
Source : http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/pablo_neruda/poems/15708
Author : Pablo Neruda

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It so happens I am sick of being a man.
And it happens that I walk into tailorshops and moviehouses
dried up, waterproof, like a swan made of felt
steering my way in a water of wombs and ashes.

The smell of barbershops makes me break into hoarsesobs.
The only thing I want is to lie still like stones or wool.
The only thing I want is to see no more stores, no gardens,
no more goods, no spectacles, no elevators.

It so happens that I am sick of my feet and my nails
and my hair and my shadow.
It so happens I am sick of being a man.

Still it would be marvelous
to terrify a law clerk with a cut lily,
or kill a nun with a blow on the ear.
It would be great
to go through the streets with a green knife
letting out yells until I died of the cold.

I don't want to go on being a root in the dark,
insecure, stretched out, shivering with sleep,
going on down, into the moist guts of the earth,
taking in and thinking, eating every day.

I don't want so much misery.
I don't want to go on as a root and a tomb,
alone under the ground, a warehouse with corpses,
half frozen, dying of grief.

That's why Monday, when it sees me coming
with my convict face, blazes up like gasoline,
and it howls on its way like a wounded wheel, and leaves tracks full of warm blood leading toward the night.

And it pushes me into certain corners, into some moisthouses,
into hospitals where the bones fly out the window,
into shoeshops that smell like vinegar,
and certain streets hideous as cracks in the skin.

There are sulphur-colored birds, and hideous intestines
hanging over the doors of houses that I hate,
and there are false teeth forgotten in a coffeepot,
there are mirrors
that ought to have wept from shame and terror,
there are umbrellas everywhere, and venoms, and umbilical cords.

I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes,
my rage, forgetting everything,
I walk by, going through office buildings and orthopedicshops,
and courtyards with washing hanging from the line:
underwear, towels and shirts from which slow
dirty tears are falling.

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Hyperboles used - Paragraph 5, "insecure, stretched out, shivering with sleep".
These hyberboles show the despair and hopelessness the author was experiencing at that moment.

Metaphors used - Paragraph 5, "I don't want to go on being a root in the dark".
The author's current situation is compared to "a root in the dark".

Similes used - Paragraph 1, "dried up, waterproof, like a swan made of felt".
The author's current situation is compared to "a swan made of felt".

Symbolisms used - Paragraph 8, "certain streets hideous as cracks in the skin".
This shows how old the streets are, by comparing it with cracks in the skin.

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I chose this poem because I found it very interesting. The author shows that he is tired of life by giving different examples, such as "The only thing I want is to see no more stores, no gardens,no more goods, no spectacles, no elevators." From this, we can tell that he is looking for something else other than the usual city life.
The author also expresses his feelings by providing comparisons in the form of similes and metaphors. This makes the poem easier to comprehend. Although this poem may be gross on the outside, using words such as "corpses", "blood" and such, I feel that this is just the author's way of expressing his thoughts to readers. Overall, I find this poem simple and yet full of feelings.