Long Milne Poems
Long Milne Poems. Below are the most popular long Milne by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Milne poems by poem length and keyword.
I don’t think I’ll ever bleed
a thing so silly as poetry
For life is far too short for me
to dabble in tomfoolery
Why, first I must prepare to make a living
about that I have no misgivings
And raise a family with my wife
to leave a legacy behind in life
Yet maybe, just perhaps, If I weren’t so busy
I’d write about the time I fought a grizzly
Even on subjects heretofore taboo... and
Possibly, like A.E. Milne, one on Winnie-the-Pooh
Hmm. It seems that I’ve been mistaken all along
I think I shall bleed poetry ~ every night and all day long
Half price sale, half price sale’
Half price sale today.
Into the town centre on a bus
Rode those to be plundered.
Forward the crowd as it swayed
“Charge on your card! The cry
Into the town centre to shop
Rode those to be plundered
Shoppers to the right of them
Shoppers to the left of them
Shoppers all in front of them
Brolly and handbag drawn, at bargains
They wondered.
Storming the shelves they yelled
On to the tills they fell
Into the jaws of debt
Into the hardest sell
Charged those that were plundered
Where are the deals they made?
Oh how they did some trade
All the town wondered
Would bill’s ever be paid
In the homes of those
That were plundered.
Charlie Milne 2008
Thank you and sorry, Lord Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892),
A great poet from a time of the greatest poets.
Pak Piglet slowly sidled up to Pooh
To whisper: just I’m making sure of you,
He took his friend’s front paw
In hand with glee and awe--
A selfish friendship Pooh will one day rue.
__________________________
Happenings |33.07.2025| friendship
Note: In Sanskrit there is a term for selfish friendship: badarayana sambandha. Pakistan thanked Trump for ending their conflict with India that badly mauled them. Trump did next to nothing though. Grateful, Pak assured him to nominate for Nobel peace prize and offered his family a lucrative deal in crypto currency. Trump Invited Pak army chief to White House for dinner and praised the country profusely. The two scratching each other’s back, as a children’s tale goes: aho roopam aho dhvanim!
- Credit (Pooh and Piglet theme): AA Milne, The House at Pooh Corner.
"She turned to the sunlight and shook her yellow
head, and whispered to her neighbor, Winter is dead. "
Quote _A.A. Milne
Waiting for the Aspens to put on their emerald gowns,
oh, I have been busy preparing my garden space;
so ready to say farewell to all the faded browns,
ready to plant seeds and to Spring totally embrace !
My sweet window boxes are full of earth just waiting,
hanging baskets are dangling in anticipation;
waiting to create my Spring garden is frustrating,
but, soon I will be the envy- for with my creation !
I will have herbs and Sunflowers and Nasturtium in one box,
and boxes with nectar wildflowers for butters' and bees;
I will have purple, yellow and pink blooms and Phlox
and baskets will be cascading jewels in the breeze !
______________________
April 26, 2022
Poetry/Rhyme/Getting Ready For Spring
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1451-105-26
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Spring Rhyme 8-12 Lines
sponsor, Tania Kitchin, Judged 05/14/2022
First Place
Motorbike
I bought a little motorbike, on monkey spit it ran.
But the monkey I got with it, took a week to fill a can.
So out I went and got a chimpanzee, thinking a bigger ape more fitting.
But it beat my little monkey up and wouldn’t do more spitting.
How could I make my little bike go? I shot the monkeys as I thought.
An answer in an instant! So guess what I have bought
A camel with its bad habits could easy be my fuel.
Now the motorbikes engine's all rebuilt, to run on desert creatures drool.
So pleased I was I named the camel Stanley, he was sure to be a hit.
But Stan turned out to be a flop, the hump back wouldn’t spit.
So I’ve given up on motorbikes, I got myself a car.
It used to run on petrol, but now does 40mpg, on earwax, coal and tar.
Charlie Milne
Sunlit meadows. A marriage.
A sunlit meadow, pastures green, lovers join, a state serene
They are each other, the two are one
Their life together has just begun
Of times to come, their futures filled
On hopes and dreams on which to build.
The forms, just outlines, now are blurred
Their spirits soar free as a bird
Theirs is hope and love of life
Joined together against all strife
When two are one and strength they show
Their souls complete, true love will grow
A link once formed that cant be broken
So strongly felt need not be spoken
A sunlit meadow, pastures green, lovers join, a state serene
Charlie Milne 2007
Virility Imperiled Manhood Emasculated (mine)
No sense of accomplishment prevails to date
analogous to kudzu... inadequacy runs rampant
recurring theme extant within poetic endeavors,
and often discussed with assigned therapist (one
among many girls named Stephanie Dodds) do
GOOGLE search and see for yourself – similar
curiosity got the better of me, whose christened
name (Matthew Scott Harris), not unique to yours
truly, a poem, which theme pertaining to aforesaid
first, middle, and last namesake already written by
none other other than this scrivener) impacted self
esteem less so than inchoate nascently, pervasively
rampantly,... thrashing unleashed upon impression
hubble early (perhaps even in utero) formative days
of milne eeyore whinnying pooh wrenching, ruing
jackknifing...unsmiling, lamenting childhood's end
upon cusp debilitating psychological tragedy, where
whatsapp pining within me present mindset lodged
nexus, sans linkedin destructive buzzfeeding apathy
mired potential vitality (crying evinced powerful
lungs) quickly succumbing against brutish, nasty,
yet not short reign of innate oppression, fixation
abnegation with dereliction, asper self preservation
engendering feeble gesticulation harkening incipient
personhood crowdsourcing courtesy condemnation
damning existential insignificance motif possibly
adopted comparing not fancy free and footloose
demeanor toward none other than Boyce Brandon
Harris, thee papa, jack of all trades, (many taught
thru his own quick learning penchant), numberless
abilities + storied vocation - mechanical engineer
equalled one smart polymath strengths constantly
reiterated by mother (dearest long since deceased)
agog how papa excelled at most every endeavor,
i.e. vocational career at General Electric (aerospace
engineer) in conjunction with bajillion avocations,
hence finding his sole son (second of three progeny)
when only yeah high (a scrawny, skinny, spunky...
little boy) internalizing heaping accolades bestowed
strong, not so dark, modestly handsome biological
paternal parent with (rocking) round the clock timely
adulation, which praise papa similarly received soon
after blessed birth April ninth ninety twenty nine.
There's a demon in my closest that will not go away.
He speaks to me quite often and says he's going to stay.
He questions all my thinking and makes me change my mind.
He turns my thoughts from positive to quite a different kind.
The demon in my closet I think has sprouted wings.
For even when I'm away from home he wants to do bad things.
The things he wants are devious and never for the good
He darkens moods and consciousness. He'd take over if he could.
The demon in my closet lives on from darker days
He used to have more power within my bitter drunken haze
His taunting of my effort to be a better man
Tries confusing all my thinking in every way he can.
I will always fight the demon. He will never conquer me
How the battle ends is still quite hard to see
But light wins over darkness I think that is always so
This demon in my closet one day I’ll force to go.
Charlie Milne