Long Mixing Poems

Long Mixing Poems. Below are the most popular long Mixing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mixing poems by poem length and keyword.


The Chocolate Cake

“And you call yourself a bloody cook”, this mongrel shearer said.
“I oughta ram this rubbish down yer’ throat, it’ll kill a bloke stone dead.”
He’s talking ‘bout the stew I burnt, which I hoped he couldn’t focus.
That he’d gulp it down with ‘red-eye’ wine, and he would fail to notice.

But no, my luck was out, he flew raging from his seat
“You’ve put a taste into my ‘gob’, now I need something sweet,
What’s in the fridge;” he yanked the door, took out a plate and bowl,
On one was chunky custard, and one a mouldy sausage roll.

“Look at this!” The shearer screamed, so all the mob could see.
First they eyed the sausage roll, and then looked back at their tea.
“Hang on” I said, “You ‘mangy’ lot, what you’re seeing here,
Is something I can’t be blamed for, they’re from the cook last year.”

“Git’ the boss!” I heard yelled out, and one went for the door.
I need this job and need it bad … to them I vowed and swore.
I’ll clean out the fridge and lift my act; then promised I would bake,
A treat for them on Wednesday ... my special chocolate cake.

My memory’s a little blank, for the ingredients I need,
I’ve got most in the cupboard, with no recipe to read,
Butters scarce but lard will do, and the milks a little sour.
None of them are ‘gunna’ notice, the weevils in the flour.

There’s salt and caster sugar, I need cocoa but there’s none,
There is a tin of milo though; its use by date is March of sixty-one,
That’s everything to make the cake; all I need’s an egg to bind,
Oh yes! There are two in the fridge; last years cook had left behind.

I got down the mixing bowl, and took some water from the tank,
Spooned out a couple of wrigglers … the dead ones to the bottom sank.
I’m not sure about the ounces or the tablespoons and such.
Cups of this with drops of that, but does that really matter much.

The only time I wasn’t sure, and felt maybe should I renege,
When I cracked the shell and found, a half grown chicken in the egg.
But they’re shearers here, big and strong, who’d never get to eat,
Let alone a chocolate cake, but one that’s made with meat.

The oven’s hot, the textures great, I greased the baking dish.
The cake was cooked and it smelt great … every shearers wish.
But a chicken’s foot stuck out the top; I cut out and ate that bit.
You know this chocolate cake of mine, tasted – more – like … ‘passionfruit’!
Form: Rhyme


Round One

my arms wrapped around you 

warm to the touch 

only on thing on my mind 

i love you so much 

my hand connects with yours 

my arms wrapped around yo 

draw you in closer 

soft and smooth to the touch 

as we lay there 

theres no moment in time that has meant so much 

your body seems to mix with mine 

quickly churning all the feelings i have inside 

my hands caress your body 

you stir, open you eyes with your sexy smile 

sunlight streaks across your face 

giving you that look of even higher grace 

rubbing your back at such a slow pace 

giving you time to recooperate 

time to breathe 

time to wake 

i knew this was no mistake 

all the feelings i feel are real 

teasing me with a passion 

all is said and done- for now 

our love will never end 

not now, nor then 

later tonight 

the same will occur 

i'll walk through the door 

being making dinner 

take a shower 

wait till you arrive 

take your coat off your shoulders 

take off the weight that feels like boulders 

kiss you hello 

you know, nice and slow? 

reach for your hand 

lead you to dinner 

a meal of such delight 

already thinking to yourself, "i'll sleep well tonight" 

i wash the dishes 

you take your shower 

we'll meet in the bedroom 

and kiss the night away 

let me caress your body 

tell me all about your day 

slip out of your clothes 

kiss you all over from head to toe 

slide under the covers 

bodies mixing 

bending and twisting 

let our acts of love bellow through the air 

the night goes on 

but alas 

theres so much to be done 

smooth and creamy 

sweet and filling 

our movements slow down 

catching our breath 

our hunger way beyond being met 

you unwind 

i pull you closer 

deeper and deeper until slumber is met 

sighing contently 

i kiss your forhead 

you stir and steal my thought 

i love you 

both steamy and hott 

kissing you gently 

saying it back 

you close your eyes for the night 

rocking you slowly back and forth 

my love 

my heart 

my soul 

no greater truth be told 

i begin to drift away into sleep 

our dog curling up on our bed by our feet 

another day is done 

another night well spent 

but alas this is not the end 

just the end of round one.
Form: Bio

The Truth of My Crime To All Soup Members Part 1

Here is my story, raw and uncut.....
     I was a DJ at a small gentleman's club - I loved music, and so I had an "ear" for mixing 
tracks, plus with my passion of creative writing I wrote lyrics to songs.  But working in a club 
you're around alcohol, and drugs.  I quickly got hooked on cocaine, the rich mans drug.
     Liquor and cocaine was my thing.  On the night of my crime, A "homeboy" of mine came 
over to my apartment with some coke, I had the liquor. So we begin getting high, drinking 
liquor while playing the Playstation2.  We got a call from a mutual friend, a girl we had both 
dated.  She asked us to come over.  We said we were on our way.
     Now by this time, I remember, I was soooo messed up man.  But I got in my car, him in 
the passenger seat - on the way to Jenny's house, we are passing the bottle of Jack back and 
forth.  It's around 2ish in the morning.  I was off that night from work.
     So we pulled in the driveway, we went around back, like we always do at her house. 
(Everyone goes to the backdoor).  The door was unlocked, lights were off, all was quiet - we 
figured she was asleep.  My homeboy goes straight to the kitchen to fix him a sandwich - 
don't ask me, I have no clue how he could eat.  I go into the living room, she's laying on a 
futon,  I jump down next to her, playfully saying, "Girl get your ass up." But to my surprise 
an older woman jumps up saying , "What are you doing in my house?" _ Now understand I'm 
high out my mind, I was invited to Jenny's house. Who is this woman screaming, "Get out of 
my house!"  I say, "Where is Jenny?"  And she says "No Jenny lives here!" - Then like a light 
switch comes on!  I realize, "Shoot I'm in the wrong house." - Now I know what you're 
thinking (How would I not know?)  I can only say with the amount of alcohol and coke, and 
the fact, the houses looked the same (It being a subdivision)  I believe that's what they call it.
     So I take off running "Man we in the wrong house"  I tell my homeboy.  As we are leaving 
I'm asking him questions like (How we not realize this isn't Jennys office?)  He's got this big 
stupid look on his face - A lot of what happened that night has come back to me over the 
years.  And the look on his face when I asked him that question confirmed - we sure was 
trashed!
    
Continued in Part 2

Premium Member I Am Who I Am

I am who I am

Were you to ask where I’m from my past my tale my next of kin
the answer lies in who tells my narrative my twist what kind of spin

My autobiography is quickly shown in who I am will be in time
past present future blend in context and contingency overt and sublime

No doubt the product of genes and socialisation is rather pertinent
thus mixing and mingling draws frameworks but is also quite reticent

German ancestry Lower Saxon and East Prussian born after the War
struggling with Genocide Holocaust trans-generational down to my core

Grew up in Hamburg somewhat lonely understood by not many but few
too young in my school year a class clown a rebel a critic because I knew

Teachers could not reject or downgrade me since I got full marks in exams
so I carved out my niche opposed authority of Messieurs and Mesdames

A late child of the Student Revolution an exchange to California ensued
where hot love struck me like balm on my wounds with Gigi from Peru

After graduation I rejected being supported by my father and joined the Army
to gain independence yet the method to gain freedom now seems very barmy

Could not leave the Forces despite pretty vigorous conscientious objection
did my best to help others as a medical doctor in humanistic inception

My duties brought me to Wales by the Irish Sea with five children and marriage
country medic and farm house guiding my kids and then nuptial miscarriage

Depression struck no light at the end of the tunnel just darkness and void
too much drink downcast in my mental wheel chair and almost destroyed

Went to rehab in South Africa for treatment where God-incidence came
where I met my wife best friend lover soulmate who had suffered the same

Now I sit in the sun in South Africa stopped medicine write story and poem
reinvent  my life some inner child stuff self-actualisation and certainly growing

New awareness novel perspectives pacifism philosophy and many questions
but the knowledge that kindness love and compassion are more than suggestions

My most intimate companion apart from my gorgeous wife is depression
both showed me my path journey and meaning my own life’s repossession

So few words about where I come from who I am will become and will be
so if you wish to explore more of my roots and my future please read my poetry
Form: Verse

Mince Meat Pie No Lie

Mince Meat Pie No Lie

Oh great! Found that some guy forgot to stipulate
How he knows people hate to wait or set a date
Important enough and already been accentuated
And, would you believe, destroyed, defecated and then defalcated.

Then you had arrived at the problem that could possibly be
While she really scarred the heck out of you as well as me
It happened to be Hillary wearing a wise old owl disguise
Found in boxes bond for Bombay much to my surprise.

She had a not only great idea but one which was ingenious
Like and old oscillating owl had a face being the meanest
And after be shown and while looking at it day by day
Someone started to toot and trump song saying stay away (Not no way Jose'.)

Next thing we found was owls only fly in a single formidable formation
Not knowing if it was done out of inspiration or desolate desperation
After having been found flying over Flint looking for water to be drinking
That is when this itty bitty troubled owl really started to thinking.

Water color seemed so cruddy and glass stood singular and all alone
On shelf while many makeshift people would moan and groan
Which is when Hillary had come up with another idea being so wild
What if we were to begin conducting an experiment of each child.

On their each table several glasses of water they would start to place
To see that when each one would drink who made strangest, oddest face
Then again oddly enough researchers data they did determine to decipher
Answers to questions and observations children had handed over to offer.

Now why would any maniac or moron ever try to seem and become so mean
Who had abused their own bodies and no longer were a health food fiend 
Then with their own selves, education and experience became entranced
At abundance of cruddy urine color running down each poor baby's pants.

Franticly and finally many ill-advised answers they had come across
What was decided is that all of it and whole thing had created a lost cause
And after many words were thought of, brought together and they would mince
Those who have minds mixing with their water will meet with lower intelligence.

James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet

Like everything else of course there always has to be a catch
Prerequisite for reading this is imagination being able to stretch.
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet


Premium Member Outsiders

Are you an insider or outsider, by birth or by achievements?                                                                              Have you ever been made to feel that you are an outsider?                                                                                    To whom does it matter whether or not you are inside or out?                                                                                   Does it matter to you because someone told you it matters?                                                                             Outsiders do not normally get invitations to the affairs of insiders.                                                                                                                                          Well, here's what I'm thinking after a fresh look at Jesus' ancestry.

Rahab was a prostitute in Jericho before Israel came to destroy the city.                                                        Surely God knew this  'outsider',  but allowed her to marry into the messianic Line. This very unlikely candidate was the Great Great Grandmother of King David. Rahab reminds me of the New Testament story of the prostitute who anointed Jesus' feet  with expensive perfume, and mixing it with her tears, she wiped his feet with her hair.                                                                     

Like so many of us, 'the insider did not get it' and was baffled that Jesus didn't discern this sinful woman.  *When the Pharisee who had invited Jesus saw this, he said to himself,  "If this man were a prophet, He would know who this is and what kind of woman is touching Him—for she is a sinner!”  Of course Jesus was not in the dark about this sinful woman.                                                                   

The common thread that connected the two women was that they were prostitutes; but also, they both exercised faith in God which made all the difference.  Born in or out; achieved our way in or sinned our way out; what matters is Faith in Christ.  Merry Christmas.                                                                                    

11262017 PS                                                                                                                                                                      *Luke 7:36
Form: Prose

Knowin' That Its Time For You To Go

A lonely tear stains my face as our baby girls cling to me
 I woke up knowin' that its time for you to go
 Fully understanding that this is how it has to be

 "Lil Reba" falls asleep wearing one sock and clutching your shirt
 In due time I'm sure she'll learn
 Right now she's far too young to understand
 Daddy's a hard working man just doing the best he can

 A lonely tear stains my face as our baby girls cling to me
 I woke up knowin' that its time for you to go
 Fully understanding that this is how it has to be

 I assure the girls that daddy's just a phone call away
 If he could Daddy would surely stay
 I remind them that he never truly leaves us alone
 He too is counting the moments 'til he makes it home

 I crank up the music, light a smoke, and consider mixing a drink
 I take a deep breath and remind myself that I dont have time to just sit idle and 
think
 Can't shed a tear
 Can't show no fear
 A mama's job is to hold down the fort and remain strong
 I must keep going even when the road ahead seems too long

 A lonely tear stains my face as our baby girls cling to me
 I woke up knowin' that its time for you to go
 Fully understanding that this is how it has to be

 I sometimes send a sweet text
 I sometimes write a song
 I often pray to God that nothing goes wrong
 I try to keep my focus on home and how to better my ways
 Yet inside I'm secretly counting down the days

 A lonely tear stains my face as our baby girls cling to me
 I woke up knowin' that its time for you to go
 Fully understanding that this is how it has to be

 I keep my phone safely on my hip waiting for it to ring
 Gettin' your call is always the sweetest thing
 My mind falls to ease as I hear your gentle voice
 I'm reminded that you aren't away by choice

 A lonely tear stains my face as our baby girls cling to me
 I woke up knowin' that its time for you to go
 Fully understanding that this is how it has to be

 A warm front touches my heart tellin' me that we're not alone
 I hear a gentle click as a key in the door says Daddy's finally home
 I fall into your arms and not a moment too late
 Your love washes over me with a gentle kiss and I remember why I wait
 You make life so beautiful and your love feels so good
 I remain strong knowing that you would stay if you could
Form: Bio

Damn Divisive Demagogic Derelict

Das Don doth debilitate democracy
driving a collateral wedge
deliberately dividing differences
collaborating, collapsing, and collaring
disparity amidst ever
increasing homogenization

extant within contiguous United States
across world wide web for that matter
attested by increased
spike among multiracial
amalgamated enclaves, individuals mixing,
where preponderance of melanin

generally affecting predominance
regarding increasing swarthy
naturally copper toned skin
across vast majority of heavily
Caucasian populated areas predicted
to become minority

according new statistics
located at webpage
https://www.brookings.edu/blog/
the-avenue/2018/03/14/
the-us-will-become-minority-
white-in-2045-census-projects/

predict the nation will become
“minority white” in 2045
which genetic assimilation
also harken better angels
among us to herald

interfaith marriage represent
according to hyperlink-
https://www.npr.org/
2013/04/10/176802652/
til-faith-do-us-part-

the-price-of-interfaith-marriage
close to half of all marriages
in this country over the past 10 years
(this cited for the year 2013,
which mostly increased since).

No doubt, the commander in chief
buzzfeeds into this inexorable trend
disquieting, horrifying, mortifying...
especially white supremacists
decrying, lamenting, threatening...

innocents abroad, and/or naturalized citizens
taking cruel dull liver re: to heart
acrimonious, caluminous, jealous, ferocious...
hazarding, kindling, tweeting
inevitable demographic transition overtaking

North America, and teeming masses
(particularly whose skin color,
perhaps fifty shades of brown,
albeit I hereby posit as
forthcoming second, yet
nonpareil gilded bronze age).

Relatively insignificant disparity
(within schema, asper genus/ species
*****sapiens per se)
people comprise greater similarity,
versus starkly disparate contrasts

between each other,
nonetheless oh bomb men able
enthuses, maximizes, trumpets...
every opportunity to spark
altercations, conflagrations, exhibitions...
animals veritably tearing each other

satiating human blood lust,
where coordination, integration, union...
welcoming brother/sisterhood, tolerance,
versus filleting, fomenting fracturing
mosaic boosts ego
inherent narcissistic tribalism!

A Study of Life

Nature nurture
The argument of psychology
yet what made Hitler 
become the man 

What made Hitler 
become the racist
what made Hitler 
become the murderer 

Millions died 
in concentration camps
millions died 
on the battlefields of france

Yet What made Hitler?
The Great depression, Germany 
the breeding ground of poverty
the struggle to survive

Hitler an orphan 
His father died 
when Hitler was just thirteen
His mother died 

When he became eighteen
money, the inheritance
left behind 
used on medical expenses

Poverty the breeding ground of hatred
life became a struggle to survive
days of hunger build hatred
desire

Darwin his theories of evolution
eye's watching the animal kingdom
the strongest do survive
Ideas of science shaped the German thoughts

The concept of the aryan race
came from science
the concept of the perfect race
came from science

Soldier's are taught to kill
Hitler fought in the first world war
taught to take the lives of others
combine the mixing pot of evil

necessity 
the mother of invention
to build a better country
ideas grow with the stupidity of man

Marx the father of communism
Jewish newspapers supporting his views
Social Democracy the rising red fist
attempted to force Hitler to join

When he refused 
they used violence to force him out of his job
Hit the man and you build hatred
communism attacking his country

Hitler blamed the Jews
Marx was Jewish
Jewish writers supported his views 
Hitler blamed the entire race

Racism showed it ugly face
the building blocks of hatred
interwoven with his own
interpretation

Introspection
sometimes we learn
from what we're told
sometimes we create

our own opinions
Nature is genetic
emotional pre-distributions
talent aptitude and health 
 
nurture is environmental
parents strangers friends and foes
yet we also learn from ourselves
introspection belief and denial

I don't like Hitler 
I don't like war
but we can all learn
from watching how others develop

poverty is the breeding ground 
for hatred
take away the breeding ground
and perhaps we can build a world of love

Behind the war are His thoughts
thoughts shaped by education 
thoughts shaped by science
thoughts shaped by racism
Form: Narrative

The Witches' Dance On Crowborough Road

Her hair- black as a raven’s breast 
   Eyes glowing through orbs of green 
She dances covertly in the dark of night 
    Where not another soul is seen 
Warbling a haunting, enchanted tune  
 
Chanting, dancing around the fire 
   Under light of a full October moon 
Questions lie on lips to desire 
   Is she malevolent or benevolent? 
Never a soul has been so bold 
   To tell their story... too hesitant! 
 
She possesses many powers, many tales 
   Lifting her hands as she chants 
Red mist swirling, twirling behind her veil 
   Eyes brightening in orbs of green 
Chilly mist crawling over her skin 
   Under an oak tree dancing unseen 
 
Cloaked under her crimson, blood red shawl 
   Strange sounds and names uttered 
As she boldly dances, chanting out her call 
   Wild, fierce, bold and free 
Like a chameleon she changes 
    In red blazing firelight so unseen 
 
Suddenly, the ground shakes with deafening roar 
    Bursts of electric blue, beam above her head 
Voltaic forces join, shaking earth’s woodland floor 
    Down the path, robes flowing, blowing in the breeze 
Many forces about, electrifying ground and air  
Gathering together, chanting, dancing under the trees 
    Many denizens of this land astound 
Warlocks and witches cast their magic here 
    As their caldron bubbles over ground
  
They come together from lake and fen 
    Here they meet from darkened lair 
Ferny dells and rocky dens 
    “Make room”, they call in pitch black night 
Bringing many potions to mix them well 
    Taking wool, wand, bone and eyes, what a fright! 
Casting out and about their magic spell

Mixing tooth and tongue and nail
 Under fire, water, earth and dung 
   They mix the caldron, hold the flail 
Hemlock, henbane, adder’s blood 
   Chanting out, “By thee we bound upon this road"! 
Suddenly the spell’s been cannily brewed 
   Using blood, eyes and tongue of a toad
 
As quickly as they came, they hastily leave 
   Departing thru forest dark, entering private glades
Leaving once again, only to return   
   On another chilly October full moon eve    
"Merry Meet", they all say, as they make haste to flee 
   Then they'll secretly meet once again...
Where they’ll chant and mix another magic urn

                                                             #_#
Form: Rhyme

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