Long Milk it Poems
Long Milk it Poems. Below are the most popular long Milk it by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Milk it poems by poem length and keyword.
O how I wonder what the night will bring...
Will it bring me some one to feel a fling?
A fling that is brisk and quick that will make me fall in love again?
Will the night be peaceful enough not to scare my timid heart with it's darkness.
I sit here on this park wood bench and hopefully I'd get a quench
to get up and leave, before onlookers see
that I am alone and I do not need their pitying eyes rubbing on my back.
But a whisper of wind has turn my head before I could get up.
O by what meaning of the howling sun is this!?
You lower your glow so I could miss
a face that shimmers when you splash her your warming waves,
Hair that yells it last call of hues of Burgundy brown before it shadows into the night.
My midway stance makes me look fumbled and I decide no more!
I shall leave before I'm made a fool of this wanted chocolate kiss...
candied covered skin; the ones that I always delighted for...
No more! No more! No more hypnotism from this addicting looking woman.
"Would you like to sit?"
O I've been struck!
By the sound of chocolate milk pouring into my head.
Delicious milk it is, shall I take another sip?
But Here I've stay to watch the sun sleep
and then the yellow became the white
for the moon was shinning bright, and stars began to say:
Don't you want her to stay?
O but how could I have ask of this?
If you would see a fool in bliss
he could not ask for more after this wish
how I ponder all of this as I watch her hair play with her face...
And as I watch, she displays
a really something type of face
a face with kindness and wild thought
a really wanting type of face
a face that lingers in my thoughts
a really flaunting type of face
a face I need to keep unlocked
She places her hand on my chin;
"Would you like some Hot cocoa from the cafe?"
..my mind has fainted
my eyes went blank
and there she waited
till I came back
And as watch, she displays
a really something type of face
and then the yellow became the white
O how I wonder what the night will bring...
Seems as a country full of saints and carriers of purity
as all crimes are interestingly attributed to outsiders
tagging them the influential teachers of immorality
yet such crime lovers show the capability of posing a threat
through the embarrassment caused on locals due to their industrious nature
Understanding the half-hearted privileges such a partial acceptance offers,
settlers become more creative, hardworking and productive
with limbs running on entrepreneurship, trade and commerce
while citizens comfort themselves
in the exaggerated pride of their home soil
which results in a war without cause or reason
The government ought to be a job creator
but how ironic, internationals are paying dearly for it.
It is claimed that foreigners are the thrombus in the channel of employment.
Yet these hated people
are self employed with shops, businesses and service centers
which are destroyed as a form of remittance of some sin
Every nation has her share of international mixture
yet a lot do not debase them as foreigners or aliens
the one down south of the dark island of all countries should be the least,
considering the continent’s role in its history,
irrespective of what her excuse may be
Look inwards if strangers are preferred in the national work force,
to find some answers- you angry mob
Examine your home, if passers-by enjoy more of the milk it produces.
Why target and shoot at the tree
when the bird is left alone to dine and sing?
Policemen catch fun while a soul converts to black coal,
humans lynched like a left over meal from vultures,
businesses ransacked and turned into forceful philanthropy,
these are evidences of character built on a very low budget.
If those responsible do nothing about social development,
With or without these ‘aliens’, the economic problems will still prevail
When I am broke
I write a poem
I make myself the hero
In my poem, nobody can stop me
Out, I hop from my S-Class Benz
Into my waiting Lamborgini to my private airstrip
That car is sleek and comfy, one in a million
My chopper I enter and chop off to Brazil
To breathe the Amazon forest
Lunch I take in Dubai, at the Burj Al Arab
Get my favorite classique and Nouvelle Cuisine
Then float on the sea with petals of belly dancers
Then I fly to France for Dessert. Park Hyatt is the Place
Where light is tuned to my eye, the spoon is customized
To match the length of my fingers
I Meet Paul Bocuse, the father of culinary Art
And eat his delicious hand
When I swallow I hear the chime in sync
Then my order in Lilac Geneva. Le Richmond is rich
I ask for Chateau Cheval Blanc. That wine is fine
I take a nap at the Palms. In Las Vegas
Where the massage is complete
Each broke nerve is touched
Silently restored
In my poem
I summon the president, the chancellor
The Prime Minister and the Speaker of Parliament
The Chief Justice, the Queen and King, the General
The Emperor, Field Marshal and Archbishop
They run and bow and panic and look away
I ask them to sing me lullaby and ensure my security is tight
someone salutes
someone smiles
someone trembles
someone nods
someone freezes
But they all understand
They consult as I slumber in my epic bed
Where I am the hero
Today
Down the street a merchant to Church
Who worked all day
Has given me a note, the part of his tithe
God bless him
A packet of milk, it can buy a cookie
Oh how rich I am
Today
No time for poetry, I am rich again
When I am broke I write a poem
Like this!
Cats are containers of
colorful personality.
A blue cat sits alone
looking at the floor before him.
His mind blank as,
a new sketchbook;
waiting for the artist within to,
paint him into a clown.
Red cats rage against life’s storms
and invaders in their yard.
Birds, squirrels and mice fear
the wrath of a red cat;
sharp teeth and claws are swift when,
propelled by a red paw.
Yellow cats have a tendency
to leave surprise gastric gifts
on your carpet, as much as possible;
always apologizing with their pale,
jaundiced eyes.
The green cat personality is rare.
You’ll find them holding it all in
until they get to that litter box.
Green behavior warrants a private box,
along with a nice treat.
Green cats, can’t stand a stench
and will scratch litter for hours
to slay a screaming smell.
The purple cats
see every opportunity for affection
and milk it.
Love emanates from their bones
and cuddling is what they do best.
When purple cats offer a hug,
you cannot resist.
Beware the polka-dotted cat!
A love bite will quickly become
piercing claws;
shredding an arm in seconds.
Pink cats are Coveted cats.
Children love pink cats
and carry them everywhere.
Their serene and constant purring
sings you to sleep, ever so gently.
A pink cats love is never-ending.
The rainbow personality,
is the comedian of all cats.
Light to dark and red to yellow;
the court jester of the species.
these side-splitting, laugh factories,
will never allow you to be bored.
Keep a camera handy;
rainbow cats are usually,
fabulous video celebrities
one life for you to watch
with the perfect plan
everything mankind is
on center stage
to decide our own levels of innocence
welcome to judgement day
please please condmen me for my mistakes youve made
I'll be your reflection
with all my preplanned perfect protests i call mistakes
your feeling tortured?
to see how you all add up to just one
everything you are and have become
i take on and display rub in your face
lead you to temptation to throw me away
watch me steal
and lie and cheat
watch me fight and hate and freak
watch me manipulate love and cry
watch this life of the perfected reflection of our innocence
but keep it alive
see the perversity we have become
notice my flaws and deny you have them
i am your innocence on trila today
a victom of how the world around me is a reflection and they all add up this way
so welcome to judgement day where you watch misunderstand
and seal your own fate
The life of a con
the cheater
the liar
the heartbreaker
the believer
the nonconformist
the follower and leader
the life on center stage for you to pick apart to learn from
milk it while you can
your opinions of me is nothing more than all about you
and as you judge me you have judged innocence
your innocence and condemned mankind
for a selfless person that has gone out of his way
to be the terrorist
the hate the lover
th epeacekeeper
the husband
the loner
the brother
here i am all of you my reflection creating what i am today
learn to steer the wheel of the robot i am
and make me truly innocent once again
The fat black cat was lazy.--but he was loved.
He had a favourite place to sleep--up above.
High up in the ganghut tree-- on a stump.
He would struggle up it daily-- he was plump.
He had several whiskers missing-- due to fights.
He always preferred darkness--never light.
His eyes they really sparkled-- they were green.
Often he"d go missing--never seen.
He always turned up early-- for his food.
He purred around your legs -- he was good.
His rough tounge lapping milk-- it was pink.
He never went near water-- except to drink.
He liked to lie on beds-- spread out flat.
He was very hard to lift-- he was fat.
He would stare out any window-- he was nosey.
He loved electric fires-- they were cosy.
His life was good and rich -- he was happy.
until the household bought a PUPPY!--it was Yappy.
It encroached upon his space--that he hated.
But what to do about it --he just waited.
He hatched a cunning plan-- he was clever.
To get rid of that silly dog-- once and forever.
He would tell him of a meeting-- get together.
That the dog would have to go there--oh what ever!
The silly dog went with him-- his tail wagging.
He did not take much persuading--no, no nagging.
Come and meet your fellow friends-- other hounds.
Fat cat promptly ditched him--in the dog pound.
There was uproar in the house-- wheres the dog?
But fat cat he just slept-- like a log.
He grew bigger in retirement-- rather large.
But he knew the house was his --i"m in charge!
I awoke to find myself on a tropical island
Searched and searched, feared I was alone
Nothing but palm trees and scorching sand
Was not afraid, for I was adventure prone.
Made a shelter, put palm fronds o’er my head
Found a small pond, and the water was good
For without water I would soon be dead
I needed to search, find out what I could.
Mosquitos were the first to welcome me
Biting and nipping, they wanted to stay
So, I dug up some mud and oh so bravely
Covered all my skin to keep them away
Found some coconuts but couldn’t open one up
Broke some rocks ‘till I had a sharp device
After some muscle, I finally found some sup
Ate the flesh, drank the milk, it was nice!
But then came the runs, I needed some meat
So, I broke some bamboo and made a sharp spear
I could now fish, but they needed some heat
Hard rocks struck together, made sparks appear.
Piled up dried grasses and twigs made a fire
But there was no one to share my lonely island
And when my situation seemed the most dire
Along came a bird, my loneliness lightened.
Twas a colorful parrot, perched high in a tree
And out of his mouth came the sound of talking
At first I was so overwhelmed with great glee
To him it was language, to me just squawking!
Although not alone, I found food and shelter
I had survived just fine, conquered all my fear
And now I ask you, as I sit here and swelter…
Please tell me, what stupid jerk put me here?
1/10/2017
It’s all of three feet long, in order it is not,
And then there’s all the other stuff she’s probably forgot,
The first thing on the list, it simply just says, ‘beans’,
Is that broad beans, baked beans, whatever does she mean?
Next is the marmalade, there’s a hundred in the store,
And if I get it wrong she’ll say, ‘it’s the one I had before!!’
There goes another ping, it’s the fifth message to date,
‘Don’t forget the milk’ it reads, ‘if you can accommodate?’
Next it is the bread - brown and white and crust,
With a helpful little note saying, ‘the thickness I’m not fussed!’
But the note that takes the biscuit states, ‘get something for tea!’
Now is that for the both of us or possibly just me?
Course the final item on the list takes me back to the first aisle,
It’s another lengthy trip, so far I’ve clocked a mile.
I reach the checkout desk and there goes another ping,
It says ‘tomato sauce, oxo cubes and a pack of chicken wings.’
The checkout girl senses, my frustration and dismay,
By honestly enquiring, if I’m having a good day,
But I look at all the stuff she is bleeping at the till
And wonder how, with three bags, I’ll ever fit it in!
At home comes the inquest of each item I have bought,
And all items not listed, I’m well and truly caught!
The marmalade is wrong, the butter isn’t light,
But think I’ve done quite well as it’s fifty percent right!
Death Row Dinner Plates
Did you ever wonder what Ted Bundy ate
As his last meal – you no longer need wait
An artist is painting death row dinner plates
I found them today on the web
One inmate requested white meat KFC
Black walnut ice cream, pecan pie (sugar free)
Indian fry bread and milk it would be
I saw that today on the web
Another inmate, a meat lover’s delight
Ordered pound upon pound and a beer (make it light
And then he refused to take even a bite
I saw his plate there on the web
Some went for simple, an apple, some spam
A salad, some French fries, or just toast and jam
A lot of fast food, no one ordered lamb
Their plate’s pictured there on the web
John Wayne Gacy had shrimp, a dozen deep fried
A KFC bucket and French fries he cried
A whole pound of strawberries before he died
You can find it out there on the web
And as for Ted Bundy, he didn’t much care
So they gave him a steak cooked medium rare
Eggs over easy, hash-browns, toast and a pear
I found that today on the web
One point that I’m trying to make with this poem
Even on death row, you’re not eating alone
They note what you order and soon it is shown
On a plate that is sold on the web
There Is Another World
There is a panther in my back pocket that does hides
sometimes leaping out to slash and take other's sides
When necessary I unleash it's great power and rage
woe and tribulation then reigns supreme upon that stage
There is a tiger in my heart waiting to be set free
turn it loose as my soul eats fruit from life's tree
As new love arrives I keep it held in very deep check
nevering allowing it's power to cause another wreck
There is a kitten in my soul that yearns to truly love
pure milk it drinks and sings like a beautiful dove
As it plays and gives back far more that ever it takes
healing my worries , ever so deeply tragic heart aches
There is another world that gives those gifts to me
Coxing forth kindness and goodness from my life tree....
Robert J. Lindley, 06-20-2014
I've been told that I am a walking talking contradiction.
A man that swings from gentle to bad. Some of that is
true but only because of the great many spiritual battles
I have surely had.. Today, I've slain the Dragon, so mighty
is it's roar in defeat.