I am sure you’ve all met people prone to
exaggerating who aren’t intentional writers or poets. In conversation they
use hyperbole to emphasize the largeness or smallness of their feelings and observations, to comment on a situation, to get attention and to entertain. They make an overstatement. They may use hyberbole to express the need for immediate action. I will pee Lake Michigan in this car if you don't stop at the next rest stop.
I think tantrums (usually overstated cries for immediate action) can also be hyperbolic. Is that a word?
Oh yes it is https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyperbolic
Nice sound to it. Hyperbolic tantrums are something to think about when you are with a three year old. Tell the crying kid he or she sounds like a poem having a hyberbole. I wonder if that will get you anywhere. It may if the kid likes poems.
Children's stories and poems are filled with hyberbole. Pre- schoolers often laugh themselves silly listening to poems where whales are as big as a house ( reverse hyberbole) or where someone says I am so hungry I could eat a horse. How about when a kid says I love this story so much I could listen to it one million five thousand seventy- two times? Then they tell you their love for you is bigger than the distance to the moon.Young children laugh because they are making sense of the world and know the comparison is an exaggeration and they realize the silliness or the "realness" of the emotion behind the stretching of truth
Sarah Cynthia Slyvia Stout Would Not Take The Garbage Out
Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout
Would not take the garbage out!
She'd scour the pots and scrape the pans,
Candy the yams and spice the hams,
And though her daddy would scream and shout,
She simply would not take the garbage out.
And so it piled up to the ceilings:
Coffee grounds, potato peelings,
Brown Bananas, rotten peas,
Chunks of sour cottage cheese.
It filled the can, it covered the floor,
It cracked the window and blocked the door
With bacon rinds and chicken bones,
Drippy ends of ice cream cones,
Prune pits, peach pits, orange peel,
Gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal,
Pizza crusts and withered greens,
Soggy beans and tangerines,
Crusts of black burned buttered toast,
Grisly bits of beefy roasts...
The garbage rolled down the hall,
It raised the roof, it broke the wall...
Greasy napkins, cookie crumbs,
Globs of gooey bubble gum,
Cellophane from green baloney,
Rubbery blubbery macaroni,
Peanut butter, caked and dry,
Curdled milk and crusts of pie,
Moldy melons, dried-up mustard,
Eggshells mixed with lemon custard,
Cold french fries and rancid meat,
Yellow lumps of Cream of Wheat.
At last the garbage reached so high
That finally it touched the sky.
And all the neighbors moved away,
And none of her friends would come to play.
And finally Sarah Cynthia Slylvia Stout said,
'Ok, I'll take the garbage out!'
But then, of course, it was too late...
The garbage reached across the state,
From New York to the Golden Gate.
And there, in the garbage she did hate,
Poor Sarah met an awful fate,
That I cannot right now relate
Because the hour is much too late.
But children, remember Sarah Stout
And always take the garbage out!
Would not take the garbage out!
She'd scour the pots and scrape the pans,
Candy the yams and spice the hams,
And though her daddy would scream and shout,
She simply would not take the garbage out.
And so it piled up to the ceilings:
Coffee grounds, potato peelings,
Brown Bananas, rotten peas,
Chunks of sour cottage cheese.
It filled the can, it covered the floor,
It cracked the window and blocked the door
With bacon rinds and chicken bones,
Drippy ends of ice cream cones,
Prune pits, peach pits, orange peel,
Gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal,
Pizza crusts and withered greens,
Soggy beans and tangerines,
Crusts of black burned buttered toast,
Grisly bits of beefy roasts...
The garbage rolled down the hall,
It raised the roof, it broke the wall...
Greasy napkins, cookie crumbs,
Globs of gooey bubble gum,
Cellophane from green baloney,
Rubbery blubbery macaroni,
Peanut butter, caked and dry,
Curdled milk and crusts of pie,
Moldy melons, dried-up mustard,
Eggshells mixed with lemon custard,
Cold french fries and rancid meat,
Yellow lumps of Cream of Wheat.
At last the garbage reached so high
That finally it touched the sky.
And all the neighbors moved away,
And none of her friends would come to play.
And finally Sarah Cynthia Slylvia Stout said,
'Ok, I'll take the garbage out!'
But then, of course, it was too late...
The garbage reached across the state,
From New York to the Golden Gate.
And there, in the garbage she did hate,
Poor Sarah met an awful fate,
That I cannot right now relate
Because the hour is much too late.
But children, remember Sarah Stout
And always take the garbage out!
Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Love poems are also home to hyberbole. Those overcome with love can't help themselves. Give them time. Then they will write he or she done me wrong or how much money I got or didn't get from the divorce settlement hyperbolic poems and what's love got to do with anything anyways poems.
Here is the dictionary definition of hyperbole
Hyperboles can be found in literature and oral communication. They would not be used in nonfiction works, like medical journals or research papers; but, they are perfect for fictional works, especially to add color to a character or humor to the story.
Hyperboles are comparisons, like similes and metaphors, but are extravagant and even ridiculous."
http://examples.yourdictionary.com/examples-of-hyperboles.html
Here is all you want to know about exaggeration and the answer to my question about psychological hyperbole. Thank you, Wikepedia.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Exaggeration
Aphrodisia
by Richard Hoffman
Endless Love
I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,
I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.
(W.H. Auden, "As I Walked Out One Evening," 1935)
by Richard Hoffman
Endless Love
I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,
I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.
(W.H. Auden, "As I Walked Out One Evening," 1935)
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