Best Mealy Poems
So, I heard you don’t like my poetry style
Well, I don’t give a toss
It’s water off a turtle’s tush…
(Forget the duck cos it's too cliché')
Who are you to judge what’s right or wrong?
You take pride in pointing out other's mistakes
with your mealy mouthed sarcastic comments
Those little digs you like to shovel
droning on about proper meter and form.
Well buster, I'm gonna shout it out
so get this straight cos I'm making it clear.
You may think you are the next poet laureate
But I'm going to tell you the truth...
You’re a self-righteous bore
whose opinionated ramblings are just a rant
by someone who thinks they can write
but quite honestly... can't!
Opinion Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kai Michael Neumman
06/25/20
Little as a mountain can be,
near waters calm and an idling breeze.
Inland wheatfields sun on ears,
expanding 45 gallon cans suppressed echoes hear.
Semi's engine drone all day to the railhead clear,
sweat running on flesh like honeyed tears.
Sweet and fetid the elder scent
canvas hats the horizon swimming and bent
mealy lung invading dryness thick,
creaking timberd floor and a rustling''quick''
then quietude..as a sunbeam falls,
on wheat shed door and cobwebbed wall.
'Tis another glorious spring and I planted my garden with the expectation,
That I shall reap a bountiful harvest for my table with minimum frustration!
I planted the usual stuff - carrots, radishes, onions and termaters,
Watermelons, peas, corn, beans and a few hills of russet pertaters.
With the Good Lord's help, lots of sun and occasional showers of rain,
The seeds sprang to life along with some curses that are my infernal bane!
I've discovered that I have a healthy crop of weeds that need attention,
And a host of other intrusive visitors that I'll proceed to mention!
I was dismayed to discover legions of caterpillars and mealy bugs,
Pruning my plants along with hordes of ugly snails and slimy slugs!
They're even being attacked from below by gophers and moles,
And from above by crows making diving sorties from the clothesline poles!
'Coons, 'possums and wabbits at raiding my garden are very deft,
And armies of well-disciplined ants are gleaning what is left!
I even caught some nasty little kids filching a watermelon last night!
I chased them but those little dudes took off with the speed of light!
With a storm of wind and hail this morn I saw all my labor disappear!
Come next spring I think I shall opt to sit on the patio and guzzle beer!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
A post from the past.....just trying to put down all the ones I have written but deleted when I left the site for a while......this is almost too long, but I couldn't find which animal or insect to eliminate.....
Gardens attract a number of guests,
Some are welcomed, some are pests-
Let’s peek inside to get a view,
Of what these guests are really up to-
Honey bees pollinate, wasps sting,
Mosquitoes suck, song birds sing-
Crickets chirp, caterpillars putter,
Grasshoppers jump, butterflies flutter-
Aphids cluster, ladybugs twirl,
Katydids hop, pill bugs curl-
Owls hoot, peacocks prance,
Fruit ripens, damselflies dance-
Leaves sprout, dragonflies catch,
Shrubs grow, chipmunks fetch-
Trees shade, breezes blow,
Blossoms bloom, fireflies glow-
Moths destroy, hummingbirds drink,
Earthworms chew, stinkbugs stink-
Ants march, slugs cleave,
Turtles saunter, spiders weave-
Fish swim, lizards climb,
Toads croak, snails slime-
Fleas vault, frogs leap,
Roaches scatter, millipedes creep-
Hawks soar, rabbits munch,
Snakes slither, beetles crunch-
Mites bite, moles scurry,
Walking sticks cling, termites hurry-
Mice dart, ferrets burrow,
Hedgehogs mosey, voles furrow-
Gophers tunnel, thrips rasp,
Foxes chase, grubs clasp-
Possums play dead, fruit bats roost,
Water bugs float, pirate bugs juice-
Woodchucks eat, rats devour,
Squirrels store, seedlings flower-
Gnats annoy, spittlebugs attack,
Ambush bugs take, cicadas extract-
Scaly bugs secrete, squash bugs infect,
Silkworms spin. lightning bugs inject-
Armadillos dig, water scorpions fight,
Woodborers drill, fruit flies alight-
Root maggots scarf, locusts smother,
Harlequin bugs feast, flower flies hover-
Deer nibble, cats meow,
Mealy bugs attach, dogs howl-
Antlions trap, leaf-footed bugs pierce,
Robber flies rob and hornets are fierce-
Nematodes battle, leafhoppers invade,
Cutworms clip, leafminers raid-
Psyllids drain, cabbage loopers inch,
Weevils infest, earwigs pinch-
Vines extend, doodlebugs grab,
Woodpeckers peck, assassin bugs stab-
Raccoons forage, geese parade,
Praying Mantises capture, falls cascade-
Skunks spray, branches sway,
Upon your plants an insect may lay-
Harvestmen walk, lacewings feed,
Some of these guests your garden needs!
I am in an oncoming negation of civilized un on going socio passion of an unforgiving remnant that seems to conscio-consider a pre existant pro com promise that if u have a co existant chameleon critter that u must be ongoing and in confluence with socio banter that be in order to sub stance a child like endeavor for all instances to roll forward, regardless of racial renderings to fit the a, anti, sick sorential senderings of a supposed sound surrential governmental succulent sound sentient signal that we all love all who love all us and all who love all, and OMG, where does it all that love end???
Take me to a piss be done pasture where all is sublime, negate, and nil in terms of socio silly centrint addicts plus aplenty and all others thinking ?$%^&^%$@))*^& with the that makes me feel like a nil nothing encompassing ahole being the never/nor/endeavor that the exo. ill-expanse uncovers an unknown entity casmerizing, olfimising, nllfamizing, to the ever intro entragant manufacture of reinfimilcongrates intro baking intereactionary miligrant cautionary entrails, lessening my any momentary fovent fighter fat syndrome
unhendering solitary kinesthetic romantic conundrums pillow passive in their **** resistance regardings a royal retard round circumference due in PI calenderic counteances math meth revered reviled. Hey can u tell me the answer to all things innocuous I don't believe it. U must attend Sorry U. Look good on a cross you would. Keep the force faith inside yrself, look deep outhouse, consider all existence and then open yr closed mealy mouth to ever evolution. Don't conserve-------yourself.
With long legs and elongated beak he came,
wearing trunks and a black sash 'round his waist,
smelling of 'High Karate' and wearing a blue headband,
the 'bad-seed' leader of Jujitsu and martial arts, we all faced!
This was no panty-waist or mealy-mouth bird-brain,
no chicken-livered fowl that worked for scratch,
No! Here was a true blue hero, a real egg-ample to us all,
Dodo-itsu - master fighter, a feathered leader that all hens longed to catch!
For years he taught us how to fight with beak, claw and wing,
and then for some strange reason, he packed up and went away,
some say that he got too old to teach and then became extinct,
but I believe that he was called to battle and still is fighting today!
©Jane Richer
02/26/2005
If scorn were tangible, my neighbors' feelings
would be fiery red. Through my window, I just
saw them pass by. Seeing me, they quickly looked
away, as if my brief gaze could be fatal. What is
their problem?
It's NOT my fault that some people are anti-social!
When the Jakes moved next door ten years ago, their
efforts to befriend me were woefully insufficient. Their
two attempts seemed insincere, half-hearted; so I've
never reached out to them. I refuse to force myself on
the unreceptive and unappreciative. I feel the same way
about my family members; they have failed me miserably!
It's not MY fault when neighbors aren't neighborly and
family members are emotionally distant.
When I yelled at the neighbors' kids--such nuisances!--
for romping and cavorting noisily just fifty feet from
my house, they failed to see the seriousness of their
behavior and, in their mealy-mouthed manner, merely
kept them indoors for two days. Some punishment!
It wasn't MY fault that they were weaklings.
Their kids are grown and on their own, but nothing
has changed. I might be willing to be Mrs. Jake's
friend, but how can I reach out to someone whose cold
looks are so repugnant?
If hatred were palpable, hers--for me--would be a loud,
dissonant, disturbing tune!
NOTHING that has--or has not--happened is my fault.
I suppose I should promise to say no more about these
matters in the future
but I have too much to declare.
FICTIONAL WRITE
I suppose the prez is proud of his mealy-mouthed spokesman Carney.
('Carnies' are carnival touts famous for spewing a heap of blarney!)
I think I'm quite well-versed and understand the English language well
But when I hear his party-line spin on things, I get perturbed as hell!
Carney keeps spouting "No worries! Obamacare will not change a thing!"
That's lingo I comprehend, but, alas, that to which many gullible patsies cling!
Not surprising, it turns out to be piffle, fiddle-faddle and downright balderdash!
Alas, many folks are seeing sticker shock and their insurance coverage crash!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
March middles and meanders
while munching on mild marigolds and
meekly mumbling melancholy meanings
about the miserable maladies of
migraines from mostly grasses and pollens.
Meanwhile, mealy mouthed moguls
make monotone messages about
monopolies while meandering
around the metropolis, moving
morosely like mundane mensches.
Maybe a masseuse with a
mustard mustache could
manipulate and mop up the
madness that has multiplied
over this mixed up millennium.
Mostly, though, we must march and
move to mitigate the mad man monarchy
or make a mad dash to Monrovia!
"How can the dead be truly dead when they still live in the souls of those who are left behind?"
—Carson McCullers, The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter
Which moron invented the term joy-riding
tell me... where is the pleasure?
An innocent cyclist
mown down by a stolen car
my only son ...
left dying in the gutter -
he didn’t stand a chance
Six months later...
I sit in silence in the juvenile court
to observe four mealy mouthed little toe rags
with sneering sniveling faces
No one will admit to being the driver
They stand in a line
in front of the judge
He orders they are sent to
a young offenders institution
They will be out after a short time...
Yet my precious child has a life sentence ...
in a cedar casket on my mantelpiece
My life will never be the same
but I take small comfort
knowing that my son
carried a donor card
life support turned off
organs to be harvested
in death he gives life
FICTION POEM
Writing Challenge 2, July 2019 Melancholy- Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings
7/21/19
Kitty Cat and Freddie Dog were on a merry jaunt
They were always together, a compatible pair, jocund
As they strolled along, they had found
In one corner of the compound, a raised mound
Curious to know what was hidden underground
Freddie Dog sniffed and smelled all around
He started digging by and by and had found
A mouse living silent, home bound
Freddie persuaded him to come out to the ground
But seeing kitty cat, he was afraid to come around
He thought they were planning to surround
And feared, cat would jump on him like a hound
To dismal thoughts, his mind was bound
And in terrible agony he was drowned
He knew a cat was a rat’s enemy, renowned
Right at that critical moment, their master did descend
To take them home, not allowing them to hang around
Mealy mouse so relieved retired to his home underground
Placed First
April.21.2022
Nursery Rhymes . 3. Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Eve Roper
The first was a wee bird
How clear the glass
Its thud was loudly heard
Rendered it to the earthen grass…
The second was the pig, squealing
Yielding its life in a blood-letting, crass
Still heard inside, the porky-pealing…
Swollen turtle mommy was to shed
Ocean tears before her eggs boiled - unappealing
Mealy-mouthed slurping of yolk-sloppy dread
Even now, such distaste, recoils…
The chicken heads chopped-dead
Headless guillotine shudders, roil
In an abrupt death paroxysm
Next, after panic-eyed goats, humans
Gunning for the body-soul schism…
(1/8/2020 Inspired by the contest: how death has affected you
Regal 2001 Commodore 2960; DMS)
Birdie’s Bar
August 19, 2008
To the old Plymouth
Mom came to salvage her brood
We’d hear the crunch of gravel beneath her feet
She dragged us three sleepy eyed girls
Sullen
Curious
Non-entities
We took our mealy mouths up and followed her
Out of the warm, closed-in car
We all had to go to the bathroom
We all hoped for a treat
She always remembered us
As we were
Tucked away in a locked car, somewhat threatened
Injured by time, her pleadings, his resignation and defeat
The door opened
The smoke escaped into our eyes
We traipsed around tables with yakking customers
Drinking liquid sunshine
Gut-rot
Spewing epithets
We bounced off the stools plastic corners
Cracked with resistance of our efforts to spin them as we passed
If luck had its way
Birdie would be playing the boomerang
Her platinum hair bobbing up and down with her
Wrinkled body
We looked for Dad and he looked for us
What did he wish?
Sometimes he treated us to a hamburger
Or we’d get our orange Nezbit sodas and peanuts to take back out to the car
We were grateful for any small thing then
He’d come to us sometimes
He leaned over us smelling like Lucky Strikes and Budweiser
His smoldering gray work shirt, his worn jeans,
His blue blood- shot eyes, sad and forlorn,
Love passed like a vapor between us and
Fear was a given, a constant companion
No one knew anything about
The bar was noisy with men’s bawdy laughter
The wicked laugh of a man at a woman he scorned
Or she;
The evil empire, the corporation,
The low pay, the idealistic boss
The economy
The lost hunt for a deer that got away
The hunger for a justice they knew little of
And contributed less
The laughter was
For the pain they protected
Everyone’s pain
The beer flowed and frothed while
The pang of the women who left them
And the pain of the children who stayed
Out in the car
Hung around Birdie’s Bar
Reminds me of a rattlesnake
We killed in the summer
All the ‘car’ children
Hiked the hills
Around the bar
About five of us
Roamed like Indians
Whooping over sagebrush
Determined to create
The sunshine somewhere other
Than at Birdie’s Bar
There was a naughty boy,
A naughty boy was he,
He did not play with any toy
And always climbed a tree
And thought to see
The world
'Yon the green sea
He hurled
Himself to think
To dream
Of bears and mink
And stream
That grows
Daffodils
And flows
And flow
down
curvy hills.
There was a naughty boy,
A naughty boy was he,
He had no employ
His parents could see
Except to write
From morn
To starlit night
'Bout the corn
And mealy mouth
Worm, the thorn
And thunder's shout
For nature
Was his school
His rapture
And his fool
And so away
From friends
he went
On clouds
that play
O'er distant
continent.
There was a naughty boy,
A naughty boy was he,
Apart from all he had such a joy
Such longing to be free
And did not know
Did not
Understand
The rot
That made them call
Him naughty
O not at all.
For a book
He was sure
Was not a cook
That fed him food
To make him sore
And he
By reading
Was ever pure
No act that's sinning
No bore
Of argument
But yards
of contentment
In forest
Or sandy
shore.
,
He could
November 6th 2018 - election day
Later today after
all votes get cast
post final countdown,
the winning candidates
ought to be known
way before break fast
cometh on the lanced
morrow (for champions),
nonetheless
my fingers and toes crossed,
that those donned diametrically
opposed to establishmentarian
(reed conservative
buttoned down
MAGA stalwarts) deemed
more dangerous than
beastie boys, or
foo fighting, Outkast
sans, these progressive forward
thinking Democratic activists
(purportedly threatening
gerrymandered territory,
where white Anglo Saxon
Protestant hegemony dominates
status quo regarding
dhow ting Thomas Nast
tee Donkeys as
hashtagged by Trump),
I pray these true
purring blue state
representatives clinch,
the majority to oust vast
Republican politicians cowed,
demeaned, and excoriated
for NOT fawning
prince supple lee,
nor paying expected
obeisance as mealy
mouth sycophants, that she
push hilly accede toward
belligerent, execrable,
and incriminating, nee
Machiavellian hot headed,
quasi coiffed,
donned, and puffed que
hair raising bully,
whose vindictive
uber lyft tartly tinged
tongue lashing,
they risk acerbic
punitive un re
lent ting vitriol stemming
from recalcitrance determined
by the fuhrer wannabe
wool shear lee be silenced
unless that bigoted,
"FAKE" man hat
tinned unabashed, unhinged,
and unruly
villainous president we
the village people nominated
to bulldoze zee
American free
dumbs, now made irrelevant!