Long Mull Poems
Long Mull Poems. Below are the most popular long Mull by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mull poems by poem length and keyword.
Misery loves company,
That's one thing for sure;
And counting curses as you moan,
Won't bring about a cure;
For thinking 'bout unhappiness,
And things that make you frown,
Aren't gonna help a single thing,
It only brings you down.
Don't sit and feed this sickness,
With worry and distress.
Don't sit and mull it over,
Thus causing self duress.
Your woes will seem so heavy,
That you can scarcely move,
And life won't seem worth living,
Your whole manner will exude,
A kind of awful bitterness,
That eats you up inside,
So count your blessings 'stead of curses,
Cultivate some pride,
In all that God has done for you,
And all the He will do,
And thank Him every day that dawns,
For all He's given you.
You'll find your heart feels lighter,
And you'll smile instead of frown,
If you'll turn your face toward The Son,
Stop staring at the ground.
Emirati Glitterati…sold their soul
All for an arty farty party so dull
Each troll got a very simple goal
Going for gold their Faustian role
Befriend astro knoll on pretend atoll
Look at me vanity but never a lull
Narcissist fantasy look like a doll
Maybe botox detox don't annul
Tax free captivity in goldfish bowl
Not like before well war takes its toll
Rakes get the shakes out of control
Save me plea on every single scroll
Fakes & flakes on the make must cull
Hard not to laugh at whole rigmarole
Tragic they chose their Arabic hellhole
Goodbye to Dubai magic back to Hull
Mull over becoming a prole on the dole
If there was a poll would say Tres Drole
Or on insular influencer peninsula "LOL"
Alright have to admit that whole drole Bazball or Baz Bat cool cat vibe…rabbit out of hat tribe.. is taking its toll..sunk in a hole..losing it’s goal and soul..not being a vitriol troll..maybe need to mull over a cull of this rigmarole..
Can’t pretend..is the end of this spangly jangly new fangled trend…nothing off the shelf…just express yourself…won’t spank you..will almost thank you.. if you tank…bonkers fools rules you can’t bend…must always go stonkers.. all cool no old school…when you shan't defend and depend on a blend of soft conkers and tracks to conquer..
Let’s explain there are many ways to play and entertain…the lotto of the Baz grotto..no dull lulls …no more bore score draws…one motto…just high octane insane where seemingly the sole means to control is a flat track that blunts and shunts how every attack does bowl..
I know..have already banged on..had a go at the pitches…feather beds so flat you can bat gung ho heave ho from the get go.. no wear and tear..glitches or hitches.. despair to stop the flair.. no real movement in the air or off the square..the Bazball pest…Bazbat conquest..effectively saying no we won’t be surfing the crest of a true test contest of willow and leather..hey ho nonny no…to the real deal Test fest..tally ho..
No pretension..apprehension of the lacking dimensions and few mentions of the best Test tensions..
Also must rebuke how they have turned the duke ball from a serious nuke which would spook.. enthrall..now reliant on a cherry that gets so soft you need a fluke ..well Dukes will be compliant as England’s their biggest client…we saw our copper haired laird no longer..stronger defiant..again came a cropper..and this was hardly a proper whopper green topper..
It seems kitsch Bazball rule needily greedily avoids any glitches or hitches in batter’s riches which in turn.. does spurn and bewitches merchants of seams and stitches..
Well it can be dicey to make your tracks at home too spicy..get in a lather…at the palaver as runs become rather pricey..when you could goad..milk that ilk as you explode on a silk road..
Our selector trifecta…the three wise men..Baz..Bob and Ben.. know if there is no speedster thuggery… no Geoffrey jaffas…bunsen spin skulduggery..they will be the gaffers with some Bazball muggery..
Stand still,
LOOK.
Flavours of blue mingle with peach puffs of cloud.
These clouds ripple and melt across the sky in frothy waves.
A crescent moon says good night to the milky way.
Trees stand still, asleep in the absent breeze.
The cool air no longer the icy mist of winter but the gentle touch of spring.
Birds cascade and swoop with charisma, a squawking chorus bringing in the rising dawn.
Airplanes sport high above with their white trails dancing into the sunrise.
WAKE UP!
People who mull in silence their eyes grounded to the floor.
Won't you LOOK up,
step back,
receive the joy of spring's waking morn.
A poem, lovely as a compost pile,
One lingers, sifts the elements awhile.
At first unclear, not all is evident;
Sharp images emerge as time is spent.
Though pieces, separate, may cause chagrin,
When taken as a whole, beauty's within.
To mull, to stew, to tease suggestions out
Though time elapses, ere they take shape, sprout.
For oft, a new direction is deduced,
Organic thoughts are grown, notions produced.
A poem such as this is never spurned,
But contemplated often, gently turned.
————-
FIRST PLACE WINNER
For the "A poem lovely as a" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Margarita Lillico
Written 03/03/2022
Here we are at the county fair,
log-rolling show right over there,
and in the back, a trained brown bear,
there’s racing children everywhere.
Endless carts where the food is fried,
bizarre creations you can try,
funnel cakes always catch my eye,
and ribbon chips are so sublime.
Strange rides that rattle, clank, and shake,
kids seeing how much they can take,
good lord, I hope they have good brakes,
the sights makes adult stomachs quake.
Tents with shinny trinkets galore,
the stuff you rarely see in stores,
cheap weapons, tie-dyed beads and more,
glow-sticks and fake tattoos deplored.
A plethora of carny games,
the ring-toss and BB guns reign,
are they rigged? It wracks the brain,
and still we play them, all the same.
In the back is the livestock show,
how massive can a Holstein grow?
Draft horses pulling, on the go,
from countless farms I didn’t know.
On the stage is a country band,
cheered on by some fair-weather fans,
back in the nineties they were grand,
now they play fairs across the land.
At the grandstand: the tractor pull,
just in case things were getting dull,
how this started? Some people mull,
others just cheer as tractors bull.
Some might look on, haughtily glare,
say they’d never be caught dead there,
for their nonsense I have no care
here at this epic country fair.
Words I cite
In fine writes
Bring new bites
Verse can tell
Of brief spell
Where thought dwells
Watch muse cull
Glimpse not dull
Where I mull
Sink deep dear
In touch clear
That streams cheer
In crisp squeeze
A cool breeze
Brings verse sneeze
Mind gains heart
In word art
That now starts
Wit minds cheer
That draws near
Just right here
Prize pure play
On the way
To dream day
Joy takes aim
In this game
Just the same
Wish list churns
In brisk turn
That purge burns
Less seeds more
From deep core
In grand stores
Leon Enriquez
02 March 2019
Singapore
With clouds dispersing above Loch Ba,
to where would we go? And just how far?
We followed the track for more than two hours
listening to birds enjoying the flowers:
meadow pippit, willow warbler
curlew, lapwing and skylarks,
bog asphodel and milkwort,
ragged robin and lousewort,
plenty of pignut and wild thyme.
The remembrance has more value
than contriving a rhyme!
Around us the trees alder and oak
contorted old rowan and birch
all covered in lichen and mosses.
After lunch we returned along the shore
with grebes, geese a raptor and so much more.
Isle of Mull, 14th June 2024
Sense altering fertility:
a stoic female falters
Seven consecutive avid hours in each four weeks
I mull over mitigating my chosen ongoing celibacy
Primitive drive permeates realms where pleasure peaks
Stomach burgeoning coersion detects digital delicacy
Needy as a newborn, abdomen aches, resonates reason
Discarded inhibition of prudence pursues resolution, swollen
Tulip bulb split, affliction's blister is conceived procreation
Stupendous scenarios sordid, fluent imagination draws on
Widened with aspiration, desire requires instant unbridling
Materialising gluttony beckons with incandescent distress
Moans cryptic as ocean speak, freed from concious conspiring
Unboxed frolicked fathomings become loitering brain's duress
Go on, redouble, and write a great Rondeau;
Get out your best pen and call on your muse.
Let your light shine like Deliverance banjo;
The Lord gave you gifts He wants you to use.
Sure it’s a challenge, but that’s no excuse.
Stop thinking it’s hard or put off till tomorrow;
That’s an old devil you must disabuse.
Go on, redouble, and write a great Rondeau.
It’s best if you have a great topic, although
Silly works sometimes; you’ve nothing to lose.
Pick what you know, and then let all else go;
Get out your best pen and call on your muse.
It’s nothing to dread; get fired up, enthused!
Mull word selection like a fine Bordeaux.
Pull out the stops; let the spirit infuse.
Let your light shine like Deliverance banjo.
That opening phrase sets the stage for the show.
Selection’s important for rhyme pairs you choose;
Picking the wrong ones: Redouble’s deathblow.
The Lord gave you gifts He wants you to use.
A firework’s lifeless till you light the fuse;
Sparks start to fly and the world’s all aglow.
Write with a flair using bold, vibrant hues.
The muse won’t desert you; now paint a Van Gogh.
Go on, redouble!