Long Mischievously Poems
Long Mischievously Poems. Below are the most popular long Mischievously by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mischievously poems by poem length and keyword.
Big white clock is bored
With the uniformity of time
Flowing unnoticeably every day
Always the same tedious way
The clock has been sitting there
From the dawn of the time
Meticulously marking steps of
Hours minutes, and seconds
Till it could no longer bear
The meaningless existence
Of being a humdrum machine
One day the clock decided to try
Something a little bit different
A tiny experiment of stretching
Its' frame to right which resulted
In arrow of seconds slowing down
Then bending sharp to the left
The arrow of minutes jumped up
Clock excitedly slid down fast
Speeding up hourly flow of time
Then lazily went back to primal
Initial smooth fixed steady pace
Bringing time flow back to
Normal rhythm of the day
But now the clock felt inspired
So it tried to wrinkle the frame
Excitedly flipping upside down
Which resulted in unexpected flow
Of time acquiring velocity of its own
Detaching itself from the constant
Existence of space and swiftly
Rolling down the edge of a cliff
Clock fell into the dark precipice
Opening the heavy infinity doors
Where the clock hasn’t been before
In the pitch darkness it felt lost
Trying to catch the evading time
With the arrows arms like spread
Flapping through empty space
But time was evading the clock
Excited and free it mischievously
Played spellbound hide and seek
With the desperate clumsy clock
Which felt confused and scared
The world felt hopelessly lost
For the lonely terrified clock
The clock could no longer grasp
The wholesome consistency of time
Which was racing in its own speed
In infinite universe so the clock
Had to find out the way to catch
The time and make it uniform again
Feeling guilty of such a foolish attempt
To test things that should not have
Been controlled and questioned
Deeply repenting crooked clock
Tried to get back to its original form
Restoring smooth round shape
Straightening three bent black arrows
Tuning seconds minutes and hours
Recovering the consistency of time
That always flies by in the same
Monotonous predictable way
The clock swore never to
Experiment ever again
Being just a humble guardian
Of time instead of
Trying to manipulate it
while I was drawing the dragon
with Sharpies, Crayola markers,
a silver, metallic brush marker,
and Chalk Writers
in bright pink and mint
(all from the dollar tree)
which I mischievously
borrowed from my son’s room,
I was talking to mom.
I might have had
just a little bit of very legal
ha-ha hemp
before I discovered
that sharpies can
be blended on canvas
just like paint.
The half-dry lime green
turned a lighter shade
than forest, with just
a swirl of the
imagination.
I took many poetic liberties
and nonsensical giggles
when I gave the intruding,
angry dragon on the left
silver spots to mock
his prejudiced personality.
‘Herb,
The Vegetarian
Dragon.’
is one of my favorite
children’s books
for this month
of every year.
But Herb,
vegetarian or not,
you still look
ridiculous.
In the fragility of my dreams
I hide my own ecstatic screams
As my soul, builds, for itself,
A sanctuary, a haven, a secret garden
In which life thrives as I wish it to!
There,
The feelings I hold for the one
I secretly love
Are revered and acknowledged
And are even turned into songs
Which reverberates all over the cosmos!
More,
The Gods, pleased with both of our obedience
Smile and shower boons upon us both
Thereby giving us a world, made of peace,
Stability and pleasures, to rule!
In there,
My secret lover
Seeks and yearns for my eyes
As ardently as would the thirsty
Yearn for water when lost in the desert
Giving me the status of Queen, his sole,
Ruling his heart with the confidence
Of one knowing that I have nothing to
Fear from no one as his love
Is as pure and genuine
As the stars that glitter mischievously
In the depths of the night,
Ready to have us forget our burdens
And to lose ourselves in their sight!
In the sanctuary of my dreams,
Life is as I wish it to be
Allowing me no time to shed tears
Or to regret of anything not achieved,
Nor even to fear the negativity of anyone!
Rather,
In there,
I live only to see the frown of my secret love
Turn into a smile
As his searching eyes find me!
I live only to hear him mutter my name
When he sleeps
And to ask me
If I am angry at anything that he did!
Why,
In the fragility of my dreams
I am not a burden,
I am not unwanted,
I am not a slave,
Carrying on my shoulder,
The weight of my own cross
Trying to go there where my fate takes me
And hoping to get answers to that which
I can understand not!
Rather,
In my own inner haven,
Life itself dances,
As if it were sparkles of the sun's rays
Falling on the waves of calm oceans
On warm tropical days!
Written on 18th May 2020
For Contest
In the fragility of dreams
Sponsored by Silent One
A ll of a sudden, a
B ird, dancing down
C ame to me in my garden, said:
D estined, you humans are, with
E xcellent knowledge gift.
F ar above, among all creatures, you are
G od equivalent, priceless,
H omosapiens, the exceptional species.
I n what helpless maze you act? And smiling
J ostly, mischievously at others, what do you get from exploiting the weak; then watching excitedly others writhe in pain?
K now, I want to, said I: O bird! say it with complete pride; that your household seems running with ease, even in all round scarcity;
L ittle space is there on the edge of smallest branch for your nest, yet your family seems to be enjoying out there, without any quarrel or any violence.
M e and other birds alike, said the bird, we find stability, in the swinging branches and the leaves that the tree and nature provide; through which rays of sun beam life to us; we shed our day's tiredness in nature's lap, in the evening when stars are bright, they ensure our future well being at all times.
N ot aware of your destiny, continued the bird,
O foolish human! O pretender of progress!
P utting on a facade, always! Thinking youself to be most wise and efficient! Why don't you remember meaning of the humaneness given to you? Instead, the
Q uintessential creation of god,
R eeling under the sinuous spell of your greed puzzle,
S hedding away all modesty and etiquette,
T attered it, you have, conspiring, plotting, turning.
U nderestimating your own potential, far removed from self, sowing seeds of sin, destruction,
V acillating, seemingly happy in temporary comforts, trapped,
W orrying, not of future generations,
X enophobically inviting mankind's end
Y ou are twisting, deviating and have lost the wise paths shown by
Z en and other masters in the past and have hit nature's retaliatory wall.
28.6.2020
When you are glum, fed up and exhausted,
Take a walk in solitude, on a deserted footpath
Lost in your thoughts, when you step on
Dry, ill, pale orange leaves,
Disturbing the silence by their shrieks of protests
When your heart open a window of joy
And your feet actually search for more Crimson leaves
To crush them all beneath
In all these noisy sweet melodies and colors
When you forget your pains…. remember me!!
When you look up at the sky
That changes hues from blue to dark
Then turn into a shower
To purge you along all
And you walk in empty streets soaked in water
And jump mischievously in a pit
To make the muddy waters fly up to hug you
And you smile and do it again, and again,
In those joys movements
when you are yourself, remember me!!
When you rescue an injured butterfly
Or watch the splendors of dusk and dawn
And When you walk for hours beneath the stars
Or wait to see waning gibbous moon raising in dark
In these ethereal movements
when you admire nature, remember me
And when you see a little bird struggling to fly
Or see an old couple sitting on a bench holding hands
Or a kid smiling in their Sleep
In such pure moments
when life seems but beauty, remember me!!
It is not our way
To reap from another’s sweat
It is not of the blackman’s norm
To call the breeze a storm.
You see when the elders sit
They can see far ahead of the youth
that stands atop the Iroko tree.
When you cut a tree from the forest
It is only the elders that knows its resting place.
You can have all the newest of clothes
But you can’t have as many rags as the elders.
When a child sits to eat worms
His intestines should be ready for doom.
Afterall what brought us all here,
Avarice, hatred and contempt
That we have passed on from generations
The hands that keep company of dirt
Will surely not be suiting for a friendly handshake.
The elders have grown wise with age
To know that when a policeman
Begins to make friends with criminals
And wear the same buba with thieves
We should get ready to become megaurds overnight
You see,
When judges begin
To see nothing wrong in collecting bribes
We should know that the law wears a veil.
When young children
Are being praised by their mothers
For stealing their neighbours belongings
We shouldn’t question the day our values died.
When the elders speak
Do not silence them,
For they-have grown wise to know
When a fast moving korope pretends to be moving slow.
We are in strange times
When men flaunt their ill-gotten wealth
In the very face of their victims.
A time when men of the law
With trust have gone to war
And those who are supposed
To be men of God-
are mischievously claiming His place.
When the elders talk
Let not your finger
Order your lips still.
.
© Muyideen Ayinla 2021
The snowy mountaintops at the distance
Long trodden ways criss-crossing my momentary dreams
I perch upon the wings of poetry, my engrossing passion
I reach there Edmund, Tenzing Norgay smiling at me
Days after day I trudge along
The paths of reality, hundred hands raised towards me
Caressing me like thirsty leeches
Stripping me of all soothing loneliness
My loneliness set in a distressing trajectory
I run and run to grab it, to hold it close to my bosom
Yet it escapes my outstretched arms, an imp
Grinning mischievously at my weary soul
My dream sets me on a misty hike
The forests ferny floor, the towering trees
I leap and bound over peaks after peaks
I clutch at soft underbellies of a cloudlet
I stand on a white sunny snowcapped peak
My wings feel a strong urge to soar and soar and soar
My entity finally gives in to my Casanova solitude
Wandering the roads. It has me under a spell even at this juncture in my life.
Even when spiked brambles
scrape my eyelids or those tender foot soles are being twisted by tooth-like stones. Quaint and angular they cluster mischievously among
green shoots that litter every footpath.
They lie in wait, in ambush for the absent-minded unsuspecting venturer.
It goes with the territory for this seasoned footman of the road.
The labyrinthine landscapes are house and home to the spiral lanes and clover clad hills rife in my area.
Their rustic heritage now sacrifice to the
orphanage of a malleable environment
Crop farmers obsessed with harvest bounty.
Restless developer pushing limits of an urban jungle. Fellow traveller in league with those fugitives from the cockpit.
The pressure cooker of modern life. Town habitant with split loyalties who clings to tumults of the city but hankers after rural haunts of yore.
Culprits one and all.
A lair from the hubbub.
Dwellings of the strangest kind huddle together like dots in a matrix separated only by a minuscule space.
Their charm not yet eroded by intrusions of the steel plant genus.
Brick and mortar athletes of homes in a jiffy.
The more alluring aspects of tradition have been fostered and preserved.
Among these are the shortcuts or bypasses of a different more sustainable engagement
Sequestered passages that shave miles off perennial ramblers with a penchant for straying off course.
Saviours of the clueless hitchhiker whose load saps his or her every energy.
One’s eye becomes a lense to all these things hidden or supposedly hidden.
Optic sensor to those trails just slightly out of focus.
Those tucked away secret spots beloved of local wiseacres.
They festoon far flung countrysides at random. Here there and everywhere.
Posted ; April 2nd 2022
I shoulda seen it coming, but blind I was with love
Had I been cautious, I could have given it a shove
* * * * *
Once there was vernal sunshine all around
With plants and blooms in color and scent abound
Butterflies from here and there and all corners unseen
Flitted back and forth before my eyes in colorful sheen
Birds sang tuneful songs of contentment
Squirrels and bunnies hopped in spirits buoyant
But all along now I see trees, leafless and bare
Nakedly shivering in winter’s chilly air
Even when the Earth adorns in full glory
Here I bide alone, so dull and dreary
Oh! Dear! Why did you so callously leave me?
After making me slosh in the sea of delight in rising glee?
Once, we walked the meadows, gathering spring flowers
There was a time we roamed aimless through ocean strands
Mischievously watching life’s ceaseless ebb and flow
And waiting eager to grab life’s evanescent glow
Once we danced to the rising and lilting measure
Each synchronized step, we took with such pleasure
Oh! I hear from far, your anklets rhyme and chime
They ring in my ears creating waves of pain all through time
I had dreamt that our love would one day reach fruition
And never will our rock of friendship suffer any erosion
But as you slowly started growing more and more silent
I should have seen it as your indifference made blatant
Instead, I thought you were annoyed for some other reason
And for long continued to pour on you my boundless passion
Had I seen earlier the cold creeping into our romantic friendship
I wouldn’t been so hurt and all at once could cut our relationship
Feb.1.2023
I Shoulda Seen it Comin’ Poetry Contest
Sponsor- John Lawless
Mysterious Mumbo micron meanders most monochrome mornings
Merry Mickey monster makes mentionable mackerel marmalade
Michigans maleficent mayor maimed Mrs.Maryjane May Marlow
Mumbling meager monarch mumbles making Muncie memorable
Minute minions marched missing marshmallow marsh
Montana mistresses mixed millions, mincing megaphones
Marvelous misguided monkeys mimed minutemen,
Milly mistakenly met misogynist men making mincemeat
Marty’s munchable muffins mysteriously melted
Mystical memories mischievously met Merry Mickey
Missouri's mania maybe mystifying many Minnesotans
Moppish meanies mislaid miniscule Mississippi maps