The Wrong Green
Amber Scummm…
Frothing.
This Is Not A Pleasant Poem.
In The Fellowship Of
The Pond!
NOT the MOON!
NOT the Amber Froth
ITSELF!
NOT the Fellowship Earth.
Though Just As Demanding.
Wagging Their Pitchforks…
PITCHFORKS! YESSSS!
But NOT For Pitch
Slimy In Itchy Green Amber
Scowling, Reciting:
“Isn't IT Rich! Isn't IT Rich!”
Pouring Outside The Box
‘Til The Box Is Replaced
With A Vice And A
Cardboard Box Of
KNIVES!
That’s NOT Very Nice.
(Pond Scummm.)
-Gray Squirrel
09-13-2025
MINT, my favourite herb, sharp yet sweet
Invigorating, cooling, balancing menthol beats
Nautical it tastes, flavouring salads or pasta neat
Tantalising sensation, delicious for bodily treats
My favorite flower
Holds lots of power
It picks you up
In less than an hour
It’s purple and green
A kaleidoscopic dream
I feel so serene
With MJ on scene
Mary Jane’s the queen
The green school dean
Never leaves me on ‘seen’
Her reputation’s clean
Papers blunts wraps
I smoke after naps
So puff puff pass
And pass that grass
Indica helps me sleep
Sativa’s my favorite tree
I need it for days like these
When my mind needs some peace
Space cakes make you dream
The feeling is supreme
It’s effects are extreme
So be careful with the queen
She helps with the pain
She helps keeps me sane
So may she always reign
The green goddess Mary Jane
A croaking echo, dark and deep,
A princess shivers in her sleep.
She lost her golden ball of light,
To a monstrous, endless night.
The moon hangs, a violet stain,
As the bog begins to rain.
A frog, with skin of slimy green,
Leaps from a shadow, rarely seen.
"I'll find your ball," it rasps and sighs,
with golden flecks within its eyes.
But as it speaks, the sound turns dread,
A monstrous voice, not what it said.
Its body swells, a horrid sight,
Engulfing all the fading light.
The frog is gone, the monster's here,
And the princess screams in primal fear.
The violet sky starts to decay,
As the monster grins and starts to play.
The golden ball, a final gleam,
Sinks with the girl into the stream.
The L. T. was green,
And equally mean,
Full of swagger and bluster,
And all the authority he could muster.
Bold in command,
This brash little man,
Who strode all around
Like he owned the damn ground--
Barking orders and spittle,
Never regarding how little
Regard in which he was held.
It was the midnight shift,
And L. T. in a tiff,
Cause his coffee had run out.
The L. T. with a shout,
Demanded a fresh pot be made--
No matter if the deployment was delayed.
In stepped the Sergeant broad and tall,
Striding to the Lieutenant who suddenly seemed small.
“The troops have a duty to move this line.
Your coffee can wait--this ain’t the time.
“And never raise your voice to one of mine.”
The Sergeant stared a moment then turned on a dime,
And made himself a cup of joe taking his sweet ass time
Betty Page New York Paint
Armenian Trace
The child's water
Sailing luxury
Strings off from sight of Italy
Calmed duration
Inlands islands
Cotton spokes
A cats residence
Before memory of the shop
Key Lime
Cookie Thins
And Coffee
The French jam sister of yours
Plays at reunions
With herself
Go bothered, Erin
It's her? The sister it gave you?
Yes Betty
Kevin, she watches "Will He Become Trollops"
In England!
Very Interupt, two should hide in one often
He's a visual fusion of forest and inner flame,
A radiant pulse of abundance,
Clad in crafted clothing of galore,
Stitched in autumn tones from folklore.
He wears leaves of distinction, orange embers,
Yellow citrine, and emerald green.
He nurtures the woodlands in newborn sunrays
That fall through the morning haze,
Striking the heart where his roots belong,
Enhancing the mind with crystal clear gleam.
Twinkling truths highlight his daydreams.
The Green Man dances readily,
Saged in spirals for centuries,
Giving journeymen paths to fae lights,
Readily twisting around flowers, foliage, and sprites,
Stretched in sacred homage.
Breath in breeze
Body entwined with trees
By myth decreed
By birthright and galore
Wanderer between roots and stars forevermore.
The trees are bare of summer green,
now the landscape paints a winter scene.
Green Eyes
It’s been a long time since I've seen ya.
Too many years have passed by you know.
How is life treating you these days?
Hopefully things turned out to be great.
Does it matter how far apart we are in age?
A new chapter in your life, just turn the page.
We both have green eyes.
We could go to the gym and exercise.
Being single for a while is fine with me.
Going out to meet new people is what we both need.
It's awesome that you live out in the country.
Next to the water feel free under the sky.
You have an outgoing personality.
Who knows where this will go, you and me.
Am I asking for too much?
I know the age gap is in the way. I’m just being honest.
I’m glad I had a chance to say hi.
You recognized me and you were never shy.
Weare grateful to have our own place.
Maybe we could go out sometime and watch a movie late.
Hopefully you will find the one that you're looking for.
Maybe one day, I will be at your door.
It has been so long to write a new poem.
We could walk hand in hand under a bright moon.
I saw you sitting in the park. I was pulled in by your blue green eyes & they tore me apart. When I spoke to you. your voice was like an angel playing a harp. it melted my heart and I had to try to win your heart.
A Green Light Contemplation
Just be like green grass,
Regrowing and regrowing:
Overcoming all:-
Go and be as sage green trees:
Rebirthing justice's green leaves:-
look out, the saint has swung a gun,
Good-bye this boy and his baby blues.
The tide's not green but red wide
& innocence has grown green moss.
Tomorrow was a whisper to sorrow,
and a humming-bird flaps to these words.
Frequently the heard of the crickets,
scraping your chest is your locket.
The rocky road made good sense to get here.
Life doesn't slow down, but speeds on like fire.
She remembers how life always appeared
When the Green Man always for her enquired.
He was the one who showed felicity
Back in the woods of mythic wanderers.
It didn't matter his ethnicity
He became a mystical conquerer
Wandering through the elemental fields
Where spectral skylights sparkled at twilight,
Revealing truths so environmental,
Dreamy ancestral visions bathed in light,
Ways that can only be told in stories
By golden stars and observatories.
Green, that enraptured hue scape a blooming quilt,
goodness gracious am I gracious for being that tint,
to loiter breezily amid the luscious woodland habitat,
as this green chameleon spring spree now ubiquitous,
I am that maestro metaphor for wild adornment rife,
whilst trailing pots, urns and archways in deft design,
green hedges, lawns, verges, meadows, trees I bless,
am I that arch victim of my mint leaf fragrant fetish?
a dash of humour surely counts as nuanced shade,
so I’m “GREENING” from ear to ear - could not resist!
My Colors are Black, White, Green and Red
Black for the darkness of Israeli crimes
White for the purity of resistance
Green for the olive groves once tended
Red for the blood, Zionists love to spill
Bible Trumpers flying hypocrite kites
lacking morality, dignity, a sore site
another Hitler, another people torn
can humanity repeat, time will tell
KKK Nazis and Zionists, all belong in hell
Worn shoes, suffering, victims scares
horrendous crimes, the devils evil grip
in tents and shelters exist tears and fright
tomorrow, if we breath, let Palestine live
eternity for the innocent, let every child be free
My colors are Palestine
My colors are Humanity
My colors are crayons for children
My colors shout, never silent
My colors are for the oppressed
My colors are music and song
Free Free
free Palestine
Free Free
free Palestine
Free Free
free Palestine
Free Free
free Palestine
Specific Types of Green Poems
Definition | What is Green in Poetry?
Poems Related to Green
apple, aquamarine, biodegradable, blue green, budding, chartreuse, ecological, environment friendly, environmental, field, fresh, grass, grassy, growing, immature, infant, innocent, jade, juvenile, lawn, leafy, lime, lush, maturing, naive, pea, peacock, raw, spinach, supple, tender, turf, verdant, young, youthful,