Long Well bred Poems
Long Well bred Poems. Below are the most popular long Well bred by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Well bred poems by poem length and keyword.
Marie Antoine Cat is too refined for my taste.
The bachelor Tom said with disdain and haste.
I thought this was too bad, for it was kind of a waste.
Would have made a fine litter, both city-paced.
That tom is sneaky another feline cat said.
He probably has romantic thought in his handsome head.
He tries to pretend he’s not interested, but he’s not dead.
She is a gorgeous kitty, fluffy and very well-bred.
I had no idea what Tom’s intentions were, true.
But if he wanted good blood, Marie Antoine’s was quite blue.
I decided to step out of it, for I had not a clue
What either was thinking or feeling or what they might do.
"A horse is poetry in motion."
Quote - Unknown
My horse must think me very odd,
for he turns to me with a nod;
as flakes fall silent on his mane,
I love him standing there so proud.
We stroll a white frozen terrain,
falling snow making branches strain;
my hair black as black my lips red,
my horse prances down the lane.
Sleek soft grey, alert and well-bred,
he follows with his mane outspread;
a snort, a neigh, soft eyes of gold,
sparkling snow falling as we tread.
The winter woods silent and cold,
with scenes exquisite to unfold;
serene the delicate snowflakes,
as wind whispers of things untold.
Grace in-pours from the baby’s fontanel
That soft, tender spot on top of it’s head
In time gaps close, blocking God’s miracle
We become a man of the world, well bred
Desires pursued, till point of exhaustion
We recognise pain follows fleeting joy
Thus ceasing striving, we choose cessation
Dwelling in silence, free from ego’s ploy
Back to the start, our crown’s activated
This time around, by divine magnetism
Lower mind’s cravings are all placated
Vibrant and aglow, becomes body prism
Earth life is short, so let us not waste time
Heeding love’s chime, meld with divine sublime
03-March-2022
The brumby of Australia, not known to be well bred
Some are tough as leather, but that not often said
More criticised that praised, for damage that they do
Muddying the waterholes, as cattle never do
The biggest problem that they have, their wish to have a roll
Find some nice clean water, then muddy up the hole
They will get to station horses, the mares have foul breed foals
The quality completely gone, and fences torn to holes
The stockman love to muster them, the wildest of the rides
Chase them way along the flat, and down the mountain sides
But we also have a saying, and is so very true
You should never kill a good horse, as some brumby chasers do
So though it is so very sad, we have to thin them out
We can only breed fine horses, if no brumbies are about
Your life depends on stamina, and full trust in your mount
It is your horse that saves your life, more times than you can count
No one had ever seen a lovelier, daintier unicorn.
He was the most gracious one who was ever born.
He never bragged about his oversized horn.
Instead, was humble, and made no one forlorn.
He had the manners of a well-bred king of kings.
A knowledge of mystical, magical, powerful ethereal things.
He was a wizard at predicting things that came true
And he was never dour, sad, angry, mean or blue.
We loved this unicorn, and we told him as much.
He appreciated this and shared his magical touch.
He shared his food, his wife, his children and his bed.
Uh-oh, Can I please rewrite that last sentence instead….
Tom Price phones up John Ely.
"I hear you sell some of the best horses in the county
I'm sending out my best guy if he likes the goods
we're buying one of your horses.
My guy is a midget with a speech impediment just to give you the heads up"
he concluded and hung up the phone.
The stud groom waited until the midget knocked on the door.
"Hello, I've come to check out your hortheth", said the midget.
"Sure, do you want a male horse or a female horse ?" asked the stud groom.
"A female horth, pleath" said the midget, so off they went to look at the horses. One lovely well bred filly caught the midgets eye.
"Can I check her ears pleath ?" said the midget - so the stud groom lifted up the midget to check the horses ears, then put him back down.
"Nith ears.......... now can I look at her eyth, pleath ?" - once again the stud groom lifted up the midget to check the horses eyes, then put im
down again.
"Nith eyth ............ now I'd like to thee her **** pleath"
The stud groom was shocked and a bit offended, so he lifted up the midget and shoved him
head first into the rear area of the horse and put him back down again.
The midget coughed and spluttered, and then said....................
"Perhapth I should rephwase that...... can I see her wun awound a widdle bit ?"
16~12~2014
Buying corporate profit tickets
to this June's PRIDE event
does not feel therapeutic,
where once lived public trauma.
Another annual rite
of well-bred socialization
political masturbation
with no flavor of resistance
to white-washed Capitalism's greed,
to straight Patriarchalism's need
to rapaciously breed
to gluttonously feed
on humble margins
of truly empowered
LeftBrain dominant humanity
not RightBrain depressed
demonically repressed
satanically oppressed
devilishly suppressed
Right supremely unimpressed
by deeply felt insanity
born a profanity
against Earth's Straight
White
MonoTheistic God
False idol
of patriotic
nationalistic pride
parades before
and lingers after
sins against EarthMother's uncapitalized
poor in spirited nature
Our planet's
traumatically wounded child,
x-rated
x-rayed
x-cised
by homophobic
feministphobic
Afrophobic toxins,
divinely inspired hate,
monotheistic vengeance-is-mine
militaristic fate.
This, and future, summers of inclusive love,
I would give away invitations to proud PASSION,
co-passion
compassion
compassionate integrity
passionate enquiry
of Left erect
correct cognition
greets Right flowing
enlightened growing
synergy glowing
sacred felt reconnecting
concelebrations
Of timeless
dipolar co-arising parades,
out-rageous raving displays
of globally spectral
spectacular
spiraling circular rainbows
of regenerating strings
and co-passionate things
Sacred hope promises
form ribboned resonant faith
for love
of EarthTribe's holy
co-emergent DNA diversity
deeply held
in silent summer whispers
Inviting year-round
and full
and sweaty wet PASSION plays
stories
narratives
epic songs,
starred night light
and lunar displays
Flowing Right
Left strength
universally full
uniting Color
Healthy polycultures
wealthy multicultures evoking
not revoking
compassionating
never mindlessly sedating
fully woke
out celebrating
Earth's PASSIONTribe.
Finally you asked for dog’s point of view -
The dialogue of depth, long overdue.
Without a word I’m whistling in the dark,
Articulation’s muffled by the bark.
Seems all I need is to frolic and play,
It’s true, but man! I have a lot to say!
Firstly, thank you for making my dog’s life
Domesticated bliss versus tramp’s strife.
Grateful I am, loved, trimmed, walked, bathed and fed,
Well-groomed and I would like to think, well-bred.
Anatomy and science, not my strength,
Honored that pampering goes to great length;
I must be one exquisite species group,
Since my poop is collected in a scoop.
But I often question, why am I spayed?
While my master so frequently gets laid!
If deemed as your best friend, a well-known claim,
Isn’t making me beg for treats a shame?
Sit down, shake your paw, play dead, dance and prance –
Shallow, degrading, ludicrous commands.
For you I’d sacrifice my life, my friend,
I’d snarl, chase, leap and tackle to no end.
I pretty much follow one petsy rule -
You got the bone, thus over you I drool.
But, master, while I’m fetching your thrown sticks,
Don’t waste your time teaching old dog new tricks.
Be aware I’m an easy pet to crack!
If you love me, I’ll always love you back!
June 6, 2022
I generally mean mine mien mental state
moost occasions heavily marinated stupor
long established as external trait
psychologically time tested trooper
impossible mission to kickstart sanity
doppelgänger regularly revisits his soul asylum
hellbent antimatter he cannot vitiate
despite therapeutic laxative merely exhausts
well bred literate smoking doobie brother
eliminating aforementioned pablum
witnessed courtesy one floundering grouper
among plenty of fish schooled
hyphenated (high finned haggled)
burn hushed scaled poem
courtesy one unionised rebellious party pooper.
Spellbound with colossal mental grippe
(i.e. all-consuming figurative cerebral
obsessive compulsive forced membership)
magnetic resonance imagine indicated jagged blip
and/or nsync microscopy
showed telltale genetic authorship
regarding above stated mental health crisis,
whereby Sigmund Freud analyst did flip
lid freeing leeches imported courtesy Philip
Hansel and Gretel a mere slip
o' lass whose nose she always did turnip.
As every cassock is enough to tell
You are a minister
Either a chorister or a pastor
To grace well and impel
Is seeing you become only God's toastmaker
Every sunset gives us one day less to live
Count your seeds of the spirit
Spread through undaunted love
And not the course of service's bigot
But testimonies of brethren who enjoy your patency
But every sunrise give us one day more to hope
Most time making all observations dumbstruck
Replying each and every with a thunderstruck
It is no near to count a botch
If its effects work like a troche
Hope for the best for we are all human
Flaws are inevitable but can be abandon
No one has ever achieve chancery with God
That has ever live on earth a slipshod being
But clinching His dictates can make you ratherish well-bred
Good Luck
Get strong
Beefing do suck
Flee off wrong
It gets growth abating
Be the David's type Shepherd
Familiar with the said story
Not needed to be re-established
Failure needs no sorry
Be up and doing...