Long Bullocks Poems
Long Bullocks Poems. Below are the most popular long Bullocks by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bullocks poems by poem length and keyword.
Well swollen boobies on bullocks Boris is boss
our nations Prime Minister at J Hunt's loss
some say a buffoon and they say it sinister
like the mans brain is only miniature
think Corbyn the codfish would be better
Brexit, Labour and Lib Dem protestors
"it's another Prime Minister we haven't elected,
this isnt the person the people selected"
these thickheads argue their knowledge of politics......
you vote for the party not person you ricks
Boris played football tackled like rugby
once on top gear like the Crazy Froggy
we didn't no May was mad she's crazy
we can't do worse but some say maybe
Boris is mad we and him no that
can't put him down when he looks a prat
I will Corbyn cus he's a wat
As for Boris has he a wife?
you want to mock his private life
what are you doing with your life
pay attention to your own life
I think it needs filling like turkey
your innards and guts have been freed
shall we sprinkle breadcrumb or bird seed
look at his private life mate you're pervy
Stop making Downing street a frowned on street
with you in the seat it would be clowning street
rant repeat after your vote defeat
we want Brexit stopped please delete
Come on Boris bloody deliver
make Lib Dem babies shiver
they call themselves democrats
I say all of dem is crats
truth is dreams need to be shattered
the Lib Dems have never mattered
So Holy bullocks with boobies and tails
every politician always fails
Churchill the last one to do well
beating Europe let's repeat that tale
I must admit it's a tangled story
I'm loving Boris
hating the Tories
It was in the early dawn of December especially Roosters began to crow in the farmer's huts repeatedly They welcomed the first light of day indirectly. The famers untied their bullocks from the byre quickly
They kept the wooden plows on their shoulders lovely. And walked towards the fields with the bullocks merrily The cowboys loosened the cattle from the cow barn humbly. And they ran towards the pasture lands steadily.
Unbloused women came out their huts eagerly. And milked the horned cows in their pots slowly The sweet voiced cuckoos made coo, coo sounds properly And they tried to eat the ripped noni fruits wholly
The black crows crowed caw caw continuously And they flew towards the garbage in crowd casually. Big fruit bats rushed towards the mahua trees habitually Water lilies buds blossomed into flowers suddenly
Honey bees swarmed towards the blue lilies violently Water frogs jumped into the water from the leaves instantly The snowflakes began to vanish from the grasses inevitably. Great blue herons swallowed the catfish in the fields lovely
The street was echoed by the vendor loudly. Who had sold the tasty palm wine gladly The two eyes were not enough for us widely
To saw the sun rises in the early dawn exactly.
Moon sleeps long wrapped in cozy quilt of chilly fogs,
Earth is engulfed in thick black carbon-canopy;
Trees ghosts-like; birds black-hole shaded; loud growl of dogs,
The scene is as silent as a dream fantasy...
Grow-caws cooled; cock-craws chocked; cattle clemently calm;
Buds of roses and sunflowers snore and sleep still;
Snails and worms shrunk betwixt fallen leaves and twigs, warm,
Cold seems handicapping even hearts of goodwill...
Bells feebly heard; the village church is very far;
As our bullocks are unwell, we may need to walk;
There's joy, when young and old - all together way-fare,
Merrily walk telling tales and season's talk...
Come, join us, share the happiness, Jesus is born!
Partake in Christmas joy, though we might walk till morn!
21 December 2021
I walk outside after an 8 hour shift
Having no idea, it is a seventy-four degree day.
I am wearing my wooly hat, that covers most of my face,
And my coat is buttoned up to my nose.
How had I missed this sunlit day?
I didn’t even hear anyone say,”Hey,
It’s really warm out there!” Bullocks.
I can counsel children outside, as well as in.
I actually prefer listening to them outside.
I feel really strange that I totally missed this.
I missed an entire sun-filled afternoon! I strip
Off my coat, scarf, and fluffy overfilled hat, and
Get into my car thinking how silly I looked wearing
A hat with ear flaps as I left my school building.
“You’re ready for tomorrow,” another teacher had yelled at me
Before I could loosen all the locks and whistles that hold the
Ear flaps and nose-**** in place.
“It’ll be 30 degrees tomorrow, and that’s the high!”
Welcome to Kansas and Missouri.
At dawn, the farmers grasp the ploughs, And stroll towards the fields along with bullocks, The bullocks jump up towards the fields after a long rest When the sunny summer has gone away.
The sun peeps it's head through the clouds,
And it showers warmth to the farmers, Those who work strenuously in the fields, When the sunny summer has gone away.
The farmer's wives walk towards the fields,
They carry the small mud pots on their heads,
The pot is filled with fermented rice and onion,
When the sunny summer has gone away.
Big bellied landlord plods like a snail,
He holds a black umbrella in his hand,
To see the field being tilled for the season,
When the sunny summer has gone away.
The farmer's wives keep the pots on the field bank ,
And levelling the muddy soil by a piece of wood, Their husbands wash hands in the channel to eat grub, When the sunny summer has gone away.
Each and every day it's such a thrill to include
all the home grown organic produce, such a large percentage of our daily intake of food
Fruit that that does not fit with ease within a rhyming verse
no matter, it's the delicacy of the flavour on the taste buds as they burst
Some of these fruits include, black, yellow and green sapote
gotta eat them on their own, not in a fruit compote
Some fruits are flowering now, in the future we shall yield
native atherton raspberry, papaya and soursop
The aroma of their blossom spreading through the field
There's mangoes, bananas and dragon fruit, all part of the enterprise
but there's predators like fruit bats and noisy cockatoos, who like the fruit as much as us
From those attracted to the fruit, we must find some form of disguise
Other varieties in the orchard, rollinias, bullocks heart and peanut butter fruit
One day they will provide some tucker, part of the culinary pursuit
You could read me like any book,
Lost in a shelf, lost in the dark,
You still flip these pages with one look,
You know it all with one glance.
Bruised like the lilies in the fields,
Through where scared bullocks ran across,
My worth is weak and all but killed,
Not killed, and hence the hunter lurks.
You still catered and washed my robe,
Each time some blood was spilt on it.
My sweat and tear never went cold,
Before your love came visiting,
My lips; once purpled with your kiss,
And all my blood starts scurrying,
I get closer eternity,
And I feel heaven’s eyes on me.
For you I’d wait eternally,
Devoid of breath or pulse, I’d wait.
To me your love is everything,
Along with hope and firmer faith.
Like autumn rain, you soothe my self,
And as would that good gardener,
You saved the lily that was trod,
And made it bloom; a pretty flower.
You are; just great, and just mighty,
Holy and true, You are all good.
If I should say, ‘You are the best’,
I would have foolishly compared.
It was an early morning in December,
Gentle roosters began to crow in the huts,
They greeted the first light of the day, Farmers untied the bullocks from the byre.
They rested the wooden plows on the shoulders, And walked with the bullocks to the fields , Cowboys released the cattle from the cow barn, And they rushed towards the pasture lands.
Women without blouses emerged from the huts,
They milked the cows into the mud pots,
Sweet voiced cuckoos made coo, coo sounds, And they tried to eat the ripe noni fruits.
Black crows cawed caw-caw-caw ! , And they flew to the garbage heaps in a crowd, Big fruit - eating bats rushed to mahua trees, Water lily buds blossomed into flowers.
Honey bees swarmed to the blue lilies,
The green frogs jumped from leaves into the water Snowflakes began to vanish from green grass,
Great grey herons swallowed catfish in the fields.
The village streets echoed with the vendor's shouts, They sold the tasty palm wine and fresh vegetables,
The two human eyes were not enough for us,
To watch the sunrise in the early morning.
Doors shut; wish to go in; in bushes of fears entangled,
Once opened and gone in, by hands of darkness much strangled;
Open sky calls; calls the wide earth; call mountain, hills and valleys,
Stranger to the home; yet, unwilling go out; soul sallies...!
I am within deepest, darkest well of my existence.
The womb; source; where-from I sipped and drank strength abundance;
Milky-Way! Galaxy! Wherein I floated like a star,
Shedding my flicker and sparkle immeasurably far...!
Mores, polities, faith and logic my nucleus shakes,
Into deeds of goodness my conscience joyously awakes;
A stream of Eternal River of life seems flow within,
Quenching thirsts; curing, like Naman, those willing to dip in...
Sometime, like a trapped parrot, rutting what was by-hearted,
After, like sages and saints, love and wisdom, uncharted;
The Matrix is, like barbecues, where realities grilled,
To please pallets of charvakas, who, by gluttony, thrilled...!
Is nothing more? What, then, is the endless evolution?
This enlightenment! Mind-soul-body emancipation!
These and all thought-blooms revolve and from this axis rotate,
Bullocks, though pull the cart, never their movements calculate...!
27 March 2022
The Matrix Poetry Contest
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