Long Mood Poems
Long Mood Poems. Below are the most popular long Mood by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mood poems by poem length and keyword.
Being a household hero
and laying in my hammock,
is the only reason.
Summer in my backyard,
is my favorite season.
I love a soft warm southern breeze.
As I lay I the shade of Red dogwood trees...
The only Hurricane in the forecast,
is swirling with ice in my tall glass.
As I enjoy the lay of the land,
lounging here all day is only part of my plan.
Quietly protecting the peace,
my silent sentinel of serenity.
Man’s best friend, a full grown
three-pound chocolate chihuahua
asleep under my feet.
A beautiful woman enters my view,
and she has a list of chores for me to do.
Seeing the way, she’s dressed and
headed in my direction I thought
maybe she’d like to help me
with my now rising (wish it was bigger).
She strolls toward me singing my name.
She sings a song of why I’m at the top of her list
for the lazy man’s hall of fame.
Her velvety voice is music to my ears.
If you like the sound of a drill sergeant,
commanding troops for a number of years.
It is from my lovely wife
where I catch hell.
Because she knows her husband,
dose nothing very well.
A wonderful woman, soft as silk,
but when she’s in a mood her voice
has been known to curdle milk.
Lift that bail! tote that barge!
Trim those bushes! And wash the Car!
She says
Honey when are you going to cut the grass?
And I say
Right now, my riding mower seems to be out of gas.
She says
then you could put together the new barbecue grill.
I pictured the unopened box in my garage,
and say
Honey I checked the parts and its missing a wheel.
She says
OK! When are you going to start building the back deck?
And I said
Yesterday I talked to a contractor but he wouldn’t take a check.
She says
The grand kids are looking forward
to playing on the new swings.
And I said
Well I think I’ll have that together
by some time, next spring.
She says
Well when are you going to walk this ole dog
that pays me no mind?
And I said
If you look honey, she’s got four legs
and I think she walk’s just fine.
She says
you can at least wash the car and trim the bushes!
I take a sip from my drink,
and took a half minute to think...
I looked in her beautiful brown eyes.
Knowing this isn’t what she wants to do.
She climbs into my arms, you see,
my hammock is very comfortable.
It was made for two.
M,
In forests deep where nympth do hide
I seek out guise of nature's bride
flit of light, dipped in heaven's milk
immersed in eyes of emerald's moss
skin of silk as long legs cross
majestic mind and fleet afoot
earthen bound with tangled root
lain in fields of grace, where beauty rests
familiar face here fierceness nests
visceral and virtuous
the flowers speak
colour bloom, shades of pink and blue
impervious
n'er angst nor sour mood
in winds of north and soul of south
feelings gift
hearts to mouth
to hand and back to heart
soften sand to frozen land
surf to snow
weaved in sun and moon
the river flows
blood touching blood
never ending
the river flows
...McClors rode up, and smiled quite thin,
He said,”Woman, get away from him!
You come with me now, and it will suffice.
You play more of these games, and you’ll get the knife.”
“See I’m in no mood for dumb girlish stunts—”
A blast roared out, and McClors gave a grunt.
From the back of his horse the villain did flop,
His chest torn apart from a load of buckshot.
Adam he turned while all sat there stunned,
And found the three lackies with his scatter-gun.
The horses they stomped, the lackies they blustered
Stupidly bunched in one great, big cluster.
The other barrel it was already cocked,
And Adams laid waste to the thugs with one shot!
Two died right quick, and the third man moaned,
Trapped underneath his dead mangled roan.
Adams stalked up, stared down at the man,
He said,”Listen up now, or forever be damned.
It seems strange to say it, amdist this strife,
But I’ve decided to make this woman will my wife.”
“So I’ll let you live, and run back to the town,
And tell all the people the way things are now.
This woman right here none shall disrespect,
And if I see you back here, I’ll stretch your damn neck!”
The lackie he stumbled and faltered away
Miriam had no words, nothing she could say.
Adam nodded. “I’d accept your offer,
But I think there’s a better one that I can proffer.”
“If you don’t mind a killer for a husband,
Than you and I will go to Reverend Dan,
Cause I still have a few good kith and good kin
Who wouldn’t approve of us living in sin.”
And so they went down, and so they were wed
And raced to his home, barely making it to the bed.
The mayor later stopped by, still half-rattled with fear,
And said “ ’twas all self-defense! It’s perfectly clear.”
Now Kline he lucked out with his newfound bride,
She gave him seven kids, their joy and their pride.
And as they years went by, their pasts they did fade,
Both found some peace in the life they had made.
Though still some townsfolk whispered of her,
But said nothing aloud to avoid Adam’s anger.
From that day at the ranch, till death came in time
She was known simply as: Misses Miriam Kline.
In the beginning as it was on Earth,
there's a gentle mood played
in Iron Maiden's music...
before the shock of reality hits
us in the face and it's time to admit:
Everyone has demons to face,
dark places in both mind and soul
that we would love to erase.
Bury them with the kings of old
whose stories and legends have been told.
Haunting tales of past empires
and the fires they walked through
in life and death as their kingdoms
were raised in glory and then fell
from a time of being a euphoric paradise
before being tragically torn asunder
and thrown into the flaming bowels of hell.
Presented as a Book, though not Biblical
in nature, a history lesson done in lyrical form,
the concept deeply ensconced
in the importance of highlighting the soul's
memories of what was, is and will be.
There's relevance to the journey
in the Iron Maiden's song.
Rights and wrongs of mankind
since its inception centuries ago.
Life, death and the changing hands of power,
the tower built like Babel that unleashed
God's ire on man's desire to have worth.
On Earth, wars have always existed
because of the twisted need for greed.
The Book of Souls warns to take heed
that cities of stone will topple...
a prophecy currently coming true
for none are willing to sacrifice anything,
always wanting more for himself.
Kings flaunting riches, a bane to their souls
Commoners crying out in envious moans
for what they will never be able to hold.
History repeating itself from days of old.
Based on false tongues of wanna-be gods.
The book of lies is being read
and accepted by far too many blind eyes.
Is it the beginning of what the Book of Souls
sees as the repetitious pattern of doom?
Is it the time foreseen when civilization
closes its eyes to the reality of truth
and forsooth... annihilates itself and dies?
Melancholy is a word to describe a mood
That humans sometimes experience
It often happens after a happy encounter
A challenge to our resilience
A feeling of depression is really what it is
After riding such an emotional high
Most of the time we rebound quite quickly
But sometimes it lingers for a while
Time is a healer in most of the cases
There's no need to fret or to worry
In no time at all you'll be back on track
Continuing along on life's journey
Melancholy is usually just a state of mind
But if left untreated it can fester
It can turn into an illness much more serious
Don't succumb to the pressure
Wake up each morn with a big broad smile
Laugh at the world and shout
Today's gonna be one of the best days ever
Now that's what I'm talking about!
The life of a cursor is not an easy one.
It could turn into any shape depending the command of the user but
Sometimes it decides to take matters into it's own hands and to do as it pleases and refuses to work
In the end it is only an artificial intelligence
With an end of life undecided.
Our life as compared to the cursor is full of vitality.
We do things on whim depending on our mood
We do things as instructed because we've got no choice than to obey
Sometimes we decide to go our own way ;
Different from what we are supposed to do
In the end we have a limit
We are no robots
Why then do we stress ourselves out and not enjoy life?
Life without some flexibility and happiness
Is like the life of a blinking cursor on the computer screen
Dull and without vitality.
To Timothy Lee, the best of me
It lifts my own lips whenever I see you smile.
Your joy phrased smiles radiate heart gems I treasure
for endless sweetness value in love kissed measure.
Your mood grips my grin whenever I see you smile.
Such pure cheer takes me in a delightful rush hold
of sweetheart clasp to grasp anew your spirit’s mold.
Brightly my face beams whenever I see you smile.
I cannot resist your sincere looks of happy
or hooking them to romantic curls of sappy.
My happy flaunts style whenever I see you smile.
Your glad grin inspires cheery tones in my heart’s home
where smiles feed love like sweet completes a honeycomb.
MAUDE
Her red plump lips doth tease releasing mood,
And glasses squeeze the shark-like eyes of Maude.
My tippy-toes reach her tall tattooed knees.
Maude’s eyes slide down Her beak-like nose.
She shakes aluminum-like paper pad,
“Why poet,” she sneers, “are these your quaint words?”
“Um and uh,” doth depart my liver lips,
“I…and…,” I nervously stammer reply.
She throws back her enormous head and laughs.
She bends those tattooed knees, and pats my hair,
“Oh poet, little friend,” she deigns with smirk,
“Those words are quite your size,” stands straight back up.
I mar the makeup on the trellis limb.
Thus composed I will “face to face” this alp.
“Outrageous!” I begin, “Now face your sin.
A prideful chest of pious smirks, you have,”
But in the end I’ll win. I’ll work for words.”
Maude dare not speak. My eyes pierce hers. They’re fierce.
So close to me, she trembles, says, “Sorry…
You’ve got the job.” With sunken chest Maude quits.
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
Barney a bawling baby bat always got his way
He wanted to choose his own jack-o-lantern Tuesday
He threw a baby fit, screeching and waving his wings a certain way.
His mother said no, but his father was pretty easy to sway.
Daddy hid his pumpkin in the boot of their car that day.
Sneaked it into the house and into Barney’s room so gray.
Mommy found it and chastised Daddy for giving a baby fit its way.
Would she cut it into shreds or give it away? No one would say.
Barney did not win that day, and Daddy was given a lecture by May.
His wife who did not reward bad baby behavior, was irritated until Thursday.
Barney and his Daddy knew this mood and stayed out of her way.
Moral of this story, give no credence to a baby fit, when you live with May.
OFFERINGS
appearance
entering
a
space
with
evasive
gestures
triggered
changes
interventions verge
on the
infinitesimal
ideas fully
experiential
participating
again
in another
interpretative
process
of
enlargement
to encourage
to promulgate
interpretation
so fundamental
is allowed
to escape
to dissolve
into
belief
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand