Short Milling Poems
Short Milling Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Milling by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Milling by length and keyword.
Julie and Jim
she a stealing
he is a grilling
together their milling
she a chilling
he a pleading
she a cruzing
he a bruzing
she a flitting
he is a hurting
lively little lovely lithe lambs
merrily milling around Marty’s Milwaukee
nibbling nutty Nabisco nuggets
outstandingly joyful and childlike
prancing prettily like playful petite ponies
Those who stay at home wait for the ration,
Due to the outbreak of the contagion,
Relief goods will come they're told,
So sacks have reached each household,
But rice is still in the milling station. Love
Ghostly slivers of light
Flickering through the night sky
Ever constant unaffected
Whether we live or we die
Down below we gaze in awe
At the night's graceful show
Milling about like cattle
Mindless of where we go
Form:
The debt soars through the ceiling
Future generations we are billing
The politicians are not dealing
With ire there constituents distilling
The stock market is reeling
The financiers are peeling
Credit bureaus are squealing
Our good credit rating milling
It was exciting and thrilling
To see the stadium filling
Though the day was a’chilling
People around were soon milling
Like pickles in jars sagely dilling
Notice that the Jacks were a’Jilling
Poets in attendance were quilling
Blue jays and cardinals were trilling
Lady winter
who dare
to kiss
your frozen lips
Lady winter
who dare
To hug you
close to heart
Within iced breasts
With frozen hips
who dare to dance
With your stems
this frozen hands
Where pillar
Of iceberg
This mouth of miller
Is Eating flesh
And bone’s milling
Form:
Sitting at the bar
Looking like a wall flower
Little do they know the darkness
Hiding beneath my innocent smile
I sit here like a predator
Slowly watching people milling along
Like small prey waiting to be picked off
Separated and devoured
Crushed like the insignificant chattel they are
The house down the street is under wraps
With hazard suits milling in its flaps
The one with the garden most luscious
Now being trampled beneath all the ruckus
The lady with the green thumb it's suggested
Has been by her Venus Fly Trap ingested
17.10.17
Composed for Kevin Shaw's
"Daft and Surreal"
If you run with the pack
you'd better
learn how to howl
to
curl back your lips
bare your teeth
and growl
it's no good purring like
a pussy cat,
there ain't
no one's going to be
frightened of that.
But if you're a loner
you learn how to fade out
to
escape from the crowds
who love milling about,
which would you be?
The boxes are filled
with cards
and the people are
milling about
Seems like another card
show is taking place
here in the heartland
of the Amish
tomorrow a church
Monday, a Seder
Collecting cards
definitely
keeps one sane
and so do puzzles
Is love a game?
That is another question altogether
Form:
A shriek rings out
the women's bathhouse invaded
A flustered man is past the door, intruded
Naked women milling about
All without a clout
The girls hide with hands their pudenda
Especially those built like Brunhilda
But fair Rosamund, no bother
just her face does cover
Next day he might know them as they were
but never never the naked her!
Bring me summer's table
By violet chorus, singing green
Where vines embrace the trailing trellis
Over arch to frame the scene
Where milling misty blue horizon
Peeks like Heaven through the arch
And I will hold my flask and think upon
The path of summer's parch
Traversing expectation's archway
By eternity's interlude
A company in melody
Singing sweetened solitude.
Four season state
Humid with frozen
Organic and dairy
To moving forward
Cows and fraccing
Cheeses and metal
Cranberry bogging
Furniture vendors
Lumber years past
Nature its center
Those unmentioned
Always remembered
Any native spirit
Without exception
Packers call home
Barging on rivers
Schooling Badgers
Big river brother
Paper and welding
Milling and ships
One Midwest state
Wisconsin working
I see why kids want to be sent to the office
The office is a “happening place” – I mean truly busy
Every second someone is running in, out, or amok.
I am talking about students, parents, and the staff.
This is the place to hear the wildest stories.
Joking and milling around is happening.
It is an active happening popping place.
Send me! They yell. Send me. They want to be in the know.
I love to high
When flying in the sky
I look down
And see you little people
Just milling around
You look like tiny ants
Looking from my height
I can just make out your hands
But they're blurring in my sight
I'm just inches away
But you seem much further away
I see you every day
But you're blurring in my way
When I am low
My vision will slow
I'll be able to see you
Clearly in my view
What if the polar caps melted
revealing long comatose beings,
aliens that have remade the world many times?
What if those ancient entities de-frosted,
came to life
while we were all milling about
in our diddly little boats?
What if they declared
that we were also aliens?
What manner of upset,
what a huge wake-up call that would be!
What if we had to invade ourselves
all over again?
Train station carries the bustle of people
They’re milling about with their worries in tow
Some stop to see train number by the steeple
Others hope train is nearer than what’s below
The rain comes down hard leaving some in dismay
Hoping the roof will save them on this dim day
The whistle of a train is heard, all come near
Ready to leave this town, to come back next year
Russell Sivey
Truth be told …we all lie
Color the “facts”
To meet our “needs”
Plant and grow
Only our “seeds”
Of truth.
We shout
“SPEAK TRUTH TO POWER”
What truth to whose power?”
Protest the protesters
In BOLD PRINT signs
Milling about
In a mob
Of “TRUTH SEEKERS”
The truth is true
but as with rainbows
the colors conflict
bleed into one another
arc from one side
to the other
seeking TRUTH’S
pot-o-gold
B ittersweet is the first love of youth.
I remember very well that first kiss.
T he anticipation had been growing.
T he knowledge of knowing it was coming.
E very fibre of my being seeing
R uby lips about to descend on mine.
S waying in that romantic slow dance.
W ith mistletoe milling among the couples.
E ventually held high above us.
E nding the weeks of wishing he would
T ake me and embrace me as he should.
Ponderings
The Geese were milling around
honking incessantly
asking for directions
the swans paced
regal egg sitters
awaiting their shift
the beaver gritted his teeth
soft wood
hard winter
the river sighed
cold water
edged with ice
spring sun
challenged
the grip of winter
log sitting turtles
cheered it on
the osprey eyed
his do it yourself nest
a distant woodpecker
plays
taps at sunset
John G. Lawless
3/25/2021
How can I say
the truth, no way!
Suffering and smiling,
Mentality is what i milling
and the help hand heralds rumor
Let someone ask me why i murmur
Ben Bruce tell me this, is it hypocrisy?
Why not tell the house this is not democracy.
Why donate you this prank, this peg for a plate,
Why can’t it be upon a time in this our slave slate?
They say Harry d’Bull is a God’s good man, let him
know that it is still dusk is still dark, dusty and more dim
Form:
They’re filming* in front of my building,
Equipment all over the place.
The crew members milling in bunches;
Huge trailers invading the space.
It’s cool to hear “Roll ‘em!” and “Action!”
And know that one day on TV,
The place where I live will be featured,
With actors appearing, not me.
It isn’t a common occurrence
So nobody minds all the fuss.
Tomorrow we neighborhood people
Will be back to routines, with just us.
*an episode of “And Just Like That”
A poem is like the ripples in a pond,
As the muted sound.
Like the reflection of the sun on an aluminum foil,
As the muddy soil.
Like a rain drop,
Dry as the desert crop.
Like the myriad colors in a shaft of light,
As the imagination takes flight.
Motionless like the shifting sand,
As a marauding band.
Like the glimpse of a familiar face in a milling crowd,
As the flash of lightning in a foreboding cloud.
It should grab you like a snare
As a shooting flare!