Short Milled Poems
Short Milled Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Milled by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Milled by length and keyword.
The feel of the place began to exude a sedated flow,
From the walking birds that milled in groups
To the laziness of the water.
Upcountry thunder
turns the plain milled storefronts
to shades of muscat-grape
and citron, dusky rose.
Pavement ripples with reflections
never thought before,
as clouds pass
dark as bedrock, molten
at the core.
I'm not a drama queen
a barbie doll
someone's else spleen.
I know I'm not a sex pistol
or soda can
or avatar.
I know I'm not filthy
or rabid
or mean
But I've been so much
milled as a machine
that I gotta lot more findin' out what
I'm not
so's i can get onto what
I AM.
If each peppercorn was a life,
each is saddled in surrender
of shunless damnation.
They dwell in anguish--
death row prisoners.
They huddle together
awaiting torsion
as the grinder rends
the season from their body.
All that remains is dust
milled over an entrée.
The chilled blue of a noon sky
drapes over a coating of diamonds on a milled earth.
Cocoa branches shake in the mulish winds.
Yellow feathers are the hue of the sun.
A red cardinal is the color of gleaming berries.
Their wings lift against the brazen edges of Winter.
ah that Joe was with us on the drive,
when we galloped with the bullocks,
side by side,
and turned em up a dusty draw,
they milled around through dust we saw,
now winded they'd set right,
another sleepless night,
for sure....
re Joe Mavericks "Noonlight to Moonlight"
Don
I married a kangaroo at Queensland
And bought paparazzi milled chilled and canned
When they were all served
With apples preserved
They stalked in ," dudes, Kang is not so bland"
My pooch has funky tastes
To sniff out bizarre caviar of freshly milled
Tissue paste
Pounce like cougars
Not for meat treats, but Kleenex filled
Boogers
He's got
A nose for skilled
Snot
My pooch has funky tastes
Not for meat treats, but Kleenex filled
Snot
9/03/20
For 'Let's Minichu on Bizarre' contest
Sponsor: Mohan Chutani
Creating
If I create with a needle,
You are whispering in my ear,
“Punch here and close again,
Even and neatly, my dear.”
Without You I cannot bake a cake;
For all those You guided before,
Soil tilled, flour milled
Hands and hands galore.
And when I create something
Whether of beauty or amateur,
You created the joy it gives me,
Thank you, my God!
You I adore!
The February morn' hangs the soft light
puffs of cloud as if to decorate a milled land,
the snow-shine as bright as the sun.
Yesterday there was a trace of the wake
of a skywriter, the color of aged lace
against the lightest blue,
blending with the faded olive
pines, theirs with an orange frost.
And the Igiri tree's captive snow
are the cotton blooms of farmlands.
As the sun rises
the horizon becomes spilled cream;
a shrouded girl feels the crystal flakes on her face as the sky lightens,
the milled land asleep still within a dream.
A tiny abandoned bird's nest is revealed amongst the berries that cling...
the billows above slide away.
The Robins flit about as the girl paints their colors as her wings,
upon which the sun glides into a new day.
?
Obliging black arms, their crooked
fingers cut freezing as they
reach for winter greys, blues of sky,
untouchable. Shaking, bending.
Mulish winds sweep lands- violence
loved, admired. They are framed
within my eyes green as last summer's
carpeting, where the trees were rooted.
Embroidered. Weaving native
life. Earth milled, the purest white
hush to lull. Charming. Dreamlike.
Persistent as memories.
In fallow field
Where corn once grew
I chanced upon
An old mule shoe
I pondered on
The many miles
The shoe had plod
In mulish style
In river bed
Now dry as bone
I came upon
A worn millstone
Wondered aloud
The wagons full
Of new milled corn
The mule had pulled
In old grey barn
Within a stall
I found these words
Carved on the wall
George Washington
Once slept here
Best damn mule
From far and near
:)
20Mar14