Long Bleat Poems
Long Bleat Poems. Below are the most popular long Bleat by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bleat poems by poem length and keyword.
Just because we can’t concur
Doesn’t mean we can’t confer
Yes, the world is in a mess
But that don’t make me Rudolph Hess
They state that soon in every street
There’ll be the stomp of booted feet
And yet the misinformed will tweet
“It’s our new world so don’t you bleat.”
It’s, “If you don’t agree with me,
You’ll get such bad publicity
No radio and no TV
We’ll cancel you Immediately.”
Fresh from school their mind is made
Opinions held shall not be swayed
New rules on a whim and prayer
And we must all be there… or square
Has the world gone truly mad?
Half of it is Leningrad
A fellow with a hasselblad
Takes candid shots of next doors dad
He bought a shiny new Suzuki
Seemingly that makes him kooky
He, perhaps I should remind ya…
Should have bought that car from China
In Britain, Lefties won the day
To many people’s great dismay
Still the left are in a lather
Each, a budding Che Guevara
Lenin’s in my sitting room,
And Stalin’s got a brand new broom
While right outside is Kim Jong Un
And Mao Zedong will be here soon
It’s, “I don’t like your point of view
I’ve got a slug of lead for you,”
We’ll tell the paparazzi too
That you’re a nazi in plain view
It’s, “I am neither he nor she…
So don’t you try to label me
Leave that oil beneath the sea
Just bring some from the UAE.”
They preach about reducing bills
With all those very still windmills
“And from the Sun,” they shout out loud
While disregarding thick black cloud
The gullible will state their case,
“We’re gonna save the human race,
Our climate’s gonna make us fry
You must not fly or we will die.”
Some spread the wealth by looting stores
Then drive home in their four by fours
But then some respite; sadly, brief
It’s summer… They’re in Tenerife
When panthers prowl and lions stalk,
the lone wolves howl and parrots talk.
The bee hives hum and wild boars snort;
the grouses drum; the deer cavort.
And as geese cackle, small hares peek.
They see a jackal, squeal and squeak!
Near streams are snipes where hoot owls hoot.
A nightingale pipes sound of flute.
Frogs croak and play as pigeons moan,
and rhinos bray through beetles’ drone.
Snakes hiss, and apes start gibbering;
no beast escapes this daily fling!
In this clatter, swallows twitter,
magpies chatter; every critter
can join in. Hyenas laugh
while in the din, each tall giraffe
begin to bleat. What reverie
of primal beat - this jamboree!
July 2, 2020 for Brian Strand's
Strand Completely New(4)Any Theme Any Form Poetry Contest
Watery eyed thoughts came,
Zap! Pow! a short circuited brain.
Inward turned burned ocular pain,
too many thoughts to restrain
I’m a cheap sheep making my mistakes again.
Smell my seared wool going down the drain.
Ba, ba, blackishly wishing I was right as rain.
Words accessed by my fingertips
help to quicken my sheepish heartbeat
Yet I bang on my keyboard, DELETE, DELETE!
Ripping out digital scores, sheet by sheet.
Never once listening to what other sheep bleat.
Instead I feel my brain draining
as my barnyard thoughts are straining
I can’t translate what they’re saying.
It sounds to much like blah blah complaining.
I’m watching you fake shepherd boy,
black sheep never sleep
into the darkness we’re destined to creep.
Sad sadistic secrets you’ve burdened us to keep
So we push our charred thoughts way down deep,
as we travel paths dangerous and steep.
Within the silence of the lambs,
you devilishly relish hearing us weep.
While I admire fleece as white as snow.
I’m not inclined to go where those sheep go.
Their path leads to your fictional rainbow.
They’re not safe just because they travel slow.
The True Shepherd wouldn’t lead them to and fro
I listen to my uneasy queazy feeling
and exit your proverbial row.
I wish I could stop them too
but, ba ba ba, to the slaughter they go.
For Wow Me Poetry Contest entered August 26, 2019.
Written August 21, 2019
Re-entered in John Hamilton’s N/A contest
Alligators with stiff necks and jaws
Boars roaming and munching without trimmed claws
Cats that nap all the time
Dogs that snap overtime
Elephants of trumpet, splash and bow
Foxes gekker, gnash and chow
Goats that rap, blitz and bleat
Hares hop with furs so neat
Iguana with spikes and protective tail
Jaguars of the cat world that rarely wail
Kiang of the wild and meadows
Loris of the night without pillows
Mongoose of bravery and viper's nemesis
Nandu of strong femoris
Olms of the cave and false mimesis
Pikas of the puff world
Quokka of the smiley world
Red fox of historical Ethiopia
Storks that bring luck in utopia
Tapirs of animated and mythical world
Uakari of the New World
Vicuna of long eyelashes
Wallaby, big foot of dashes
Xeme of the gully world
Yarri of the lost world
Zebras that play chess and checkers
Animals of the nutty world
Carnivals of naughtiness
Festivals of display and vivaciousness
Intestinal relief of the blessed world
(Prosebite)
The twigs of March drip, and dangle ~ late in the day
birdsong returns. New veins leach in the leaf
there are florets of sap-sweet offerings.
From oracle rings earth worms rise up from a mud,
then wade-in to wet nurse the soil.
For the young, this is a time for naked toes
and muddy faces. For the younger, the land suckles
with its bare hands. The old watch the seep,
hear the suck of a million open mouths
beneath the leak of muddling mists.
New birthed lambs bleat to be fed,
be strengthened against returning lions.
March is kind only for a spell, for who can tell?
There are rumors of dragons in coming winds.
For now, young shoots struggle forth
there is a quickening reach, a tufted greening.
Dens and drays are fat with new birthed cubs
that play and mew in Marches bustle
uplifted now in a mucky coddle.
The Mockingbird sings out his misleading best,
in hopes to attract a dupe with a nest,
where the squatter believes mate’s eggs should belong;
so mimics and jabbers uncountable songs.
Catbirds and Thrashers, related critters,
both grey North Americans sport throats of a twitter.
These gifted Warblers mock tricky bird tunes,
deceiving, deluding as feathered dragoons.
In fairness to balance the Tweeters’ intent,
creating, demanding a need to invent
a song to attract a new or lost mate:
so, a beacon to follow and commitment to state.
EXAMPLE MOCK SONGS
whistling, hey-hey yip pittie-yap
frog gurgle, snarf-chickie claw-saw
peep peeping piccolo-staccato bleat
sniftering chit-chat, yodel-do do
snerling, rat trap, blah tat-tat-tat
crunchy nasal chirp, coo-coo-coo
The PC’s a must, don’t you know?
A laptop, a few iPads or iPhones.
How else can we get on with lifes’s show?
Calls are fewer, texts, you betcha.
Emojis now equal to beautiful words?
Those obnoxious, electronic dog catchas!
Stop the 1950’s jabber and insulting the TV.
To all the electronics, we are down on our knees.
People no longer count, about worthless as fleas?
Don’t you know that people are sad and lonely?
But we treat them like pieces of rotting Baloney.
We may as well feed our precious iPad…Spumoni?
Stay plugged in, so unreal and not very sweet.
As your friends suddenly die, their God to meet.
And you~forgot we are not sheep, who just bleat.
You, and Miss Alexa are newlyweds, I guess.
At least, she does not have to wear a dress!
No more human world, I sadly confess!
We snicker over mindless junk at You Tube?
But hey, what goes on in our electrified noodles?
No brains, just romping pink poodles?
No need to be insulted by this sardonic poem.
I am just like you~ the iPad is now my home.
So shiny, voiceless, humanless, end of this tome.
There should be an Electronics Anonymous. for us!
Their control exerted over us is totally boundless.
Being now, minus humanity is bonkers and groundless.
12/31/20222
The Sun’s Out
the bleat of the stressed fawn
alerted the forest to its presence
a dappled dalliance and shifting winds
had separated her from the doe’s scent.
a subtle silence caused all eyes to shift
predators scanned horizons, sniffed pungent breezes
prey froze in place, ears cocked, listening
for that soundless sound of wing or claw.
the forest exhaled, rippling leaves
called the class back to order
brooks babbled in the back of the wood
bells chimed in a distant tower as bats slept
a cocoon split, winged beauty breathed and flew
fanning the wonder of a dandelion armada
hanging in an ice blue sky – a masterpiece
circling the dappled death of dawn.
5/19/2016
submitted to – The sun is out – Poetry Contest
sponsor – C T
Flowers need much rain,
their petals are very dry,
their stems are too weak;
Nature's future is bleak,
draught is a terrible bane,
not a boon for a butterfly!
Clouds are thin, transparent, and frail,
and soon will lament and scorch...
meeting the flaming hot torch;
silent ravens hide in the branches
of the spruces where they sadly chill!
Glaciers melt and grizzling bears wander,
whales migrate from the Western Hemisphere
to the farthest ends of the North Hemisphere;
floods increase and cities are drowning in water.
Most emotions are stirred by true feelings,
and not having these is expressing sadness;
is the above sun a life-giver or a destroyer,
can it burn all the grass with its scorching heat,
not leave a trace of it and induce a bitter bleat?
When plains become deserts life dies forever!
In Need
Indeed,
we are in need,
and we were put here
by "them", the "others".
Those that have money,
and power,
and influence.
We have been pushed to our limits,
and now we are meant to starve.
They have burned down the food,
and taken away the means for us to recover.
They are waiting for the ripe moment,
that the small animals,
the sheep...
bleat out their cries, so loudly,
they will accept whatever sustenance is given,
whatever safety is provided,
That will not, or does not matter...
even if it is made of plastic and chemicals...
as long as it is served in the best room,
in the slaughterhouse.
The curious are denied.
The courageous are killed.
The pendulum is turning in the wind.
Good sees all,
and evil knows that time is short.
So the sowing of wheat is gone,
in favor of the chaff.
Ask yourself how this will end?
Do you know already?