Best Mushroom Poems
Walking in the woods on a summers day
I ran across the savvy mushroom king
The old tight-wad geezer wanted to play
I played him checkers and a little chess.
The king was pretty good, I must confess.
Same time next week I asked the little guy?
Leaving, he said. How ‘bout fourth of July?
We made a little date, the mushroom king and I.
I would bring purple sparklers and fire crackers,
He promised lemon meringue faerie homemade pie.
I dreamed of lemon pie for nights and nights on end.
Glad to have a mushroom king for a new best friend.
We met on the fourth, and I gave a disappointed sigh.
I had the fireworks, but guess who forgot to bring the pie?
Millions are bowing to a mushroom God.
Who guides them down paths of pyrite and blackness.
Minds falsely expanding into an unexplainable universe.
With mechanical elves and glorious things.
They're for that elusive something.
With the infinite textures of war and flavors of human suffering...
Who can blame them for at least trying.
I fear for my friend and his diamond-sharp mind.
He's cracked the shadow of this mushroom God.
I fear that after his great mind expansion...
There will be a greater contraction of the mind.
His softening mind slipping into a jagged rabbit hole.
Imperceptibly so.
Meanwhile, millions of holy books are garnished with
coffee ring halos and the stench of miracles ignored.
Perry's Disinclination for Mushrooms
A mushroom is not something new
Inside some pasta or a stew.
But, when it comes to feeding Perry,
A mushroom is extraordinary!
John's Surgery
An eyeball must be a perfect sphere.
If an imperfection should appear,
A handy doctor, not ham-handed,
Will use his head and have it sanded.
our home grown monarch
shall swing open war's hell gate~
h r
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In the cool of an autumn morning
my father and his friend,
Jimmy Kerin, would go
mushroom picking in paddocks
way out past the last suburban fence.
I would tag along not to pick
but feel the freedom of open land
stretching as far as the eye could see
and for the pleasure of the ride.
I would sit in the back seat
of Mr Kerin’s 1950's Skoda, taking
in the smell of the leather
and laying out along its length
like a ferried prince.
I can remember the wet, green
paddocks, the cold dew being
flipped up to coat the back
of my bare legs as I walked.
Then, seeing a carpet of white crowns
pushing up through the short grass,
plump eruptions catching
the morning sun that got my Dad
and Mr Kerin excited and set them off
decapitating the tallest with their kitchen
knives. They soon would each have
a bucket full, some mushroom heads
as big as Dad's hand.
That evening the ritualized meal
would be acted out. Dad sitting
at the table waiting, Mum frying up
the mushrooms in a cast iron pan
then making the juices into a thick
buttery gravy. It was a celebration
with Dad voicing his pleasure
on downing each savored mouthful.
Mum and us kids would look on,
none of us could stomach the taste
of fungi and instead, tucked into
tomato soup and toast.
Such simple memories seem
to cling onto life as if sensing
autumn, stirring deep in the self's soil
to poke their heads up here.
Marks from the shroom exposed as you
Undress, I caress your
Silky thigh-way, blessed by the mess you
Have made. lay down boo and
Rest the night has reached it's crest.
Overtime I'll relieve your stress, I'm
Obsessed... your life with
Me is inevitable, give up on your protests..
Requests will be satisfied,
Embraced, we can pass any test
Discover this love, I'm undefeated in my conquest...
Mellifluous sounds impress, harmonious melody
Abstract through cyber chats.. Your
Requests assist the prince to show you bliss, come
Kiss this man, rub your hands upon his chest.
Sample his skin and leave a hickey on his breast...
Jared Pickett
5/29/2010
Asavvy1
Aroma lingers
within the encasing bastion,
aisle upon aisle haunts the ancient catacomb
that is home to the decisive many.
User friendly ecstasy
depending on Fahrenheit fifty two,
this golden age to cherish?
Hypothermia guaranteed, with anything less.
Inward the soul is searched,
waves of thoughts woven by the juggler,
the body a vast kingdom to learn
yet the power to levitate.
The mind, acting out mutation
although not in the normal way,
“Optimist” He thinks he’ll save the world
when standing tall upon its pinnacle.
Ne’er question hell upon earth
or life in constant rotate,
darkness into light synthesize
the mingling tendon of dawn unfolds.
From the elusive underground the mind retreats
while hazily shedding off coats of vertigo,
worn, his weary body loiters with gleet
till “Xavier” goes flashing by.
“Screaming, his deep desires yearn
for the potency of ‘Zeus’”
© Harry J Horsman 1992
A form of ABC poetry, each line first starting with an A must contain
a letter in order, from the alphabet, second line B etc till the last line Z.
The colors of the flowers are vibrantly swaying
The wind caresses them it seems with kisses,
whispering sweet nothings inside cheery cores
Daisy’s white pearly petals are speaking
Yellow sepals smiling, too yellow! Spiky discs
spinning peeking at me as I subtly study them
Dance little flower dance so alive,
I just want to hug and squeeze you
until you feel all this love as well
colors so vibrant
turned on, tuned in, so alive ~
I feel so much love
Takeover Taiwan
Sino-Russ aims at Ukraine
Edges burnt and crisp
~*~
mushroom cloud of war
howling winds with lightning bolts
anger in the clouds
~~**~~
~*~
haiku/senryu blended hybrid
Fungi, fungus, funguses thousand fold,
eukaryotic life kingdom of yeast and mold.
Ancient legends and myths from many times,
beginnings and ends through mulching slimes.
Egyptians sensed the connection in fungi to gods,
only Pharaohs allowed to have them as foods.
Consuming the fungi to become immortal static,
Mushroom stones in Mesoamerica enigmatic.
The Rig Veda describes the juice of Soma,
considered as precious liquid of stardust and earth aroma.
Indispensable in all worships and ritual,
similar to Greek deities of cognate ambrosia.
Consumed in Shamanic sessions to contact spirits of the dead,
fortifying long hunting trips an dreams thread.
Penicillin antibiotics against bacterial infection,
surviving the war with needed invention.
Psilocybin and psilocin magic shrooms,
DMT, acid blotters magic truffles booms.
Alice in wonderland and the philosopher’s stone,
introspective hallucination and psychosis throne.
Natures secret language by mildews organisms,
earths everlasting fungi dew compost prism.
being in this tin womb, dark and safe,
that's the thing; inside the dark corners
and air-lock doors, it's a floating life
toothpaste and pureed stew float by;
still, here's not to dwell on the minutiae
and other small things
and the silent solar-wind powers on,
while below, the earth, the sea, the clouds,
the blue and green, the tempered purple hues,
tinge brown
and if from the land you peer up here,
from where the earth is dying, you'll see
me sigh, through flocks of hope,
and notice that I'm crying
one delicacy
poisonous doppelgangers -
tasty mushroom stew
It only took me one cap and one stem,
For the Halloween feeling to kick right in.
I took to the night,
Like a ride in a bike.
Please do not quote me on this,
But I really had to piss.
And in my one piece clown costume—
My poor pecker was not free to pee I was doomed.
A lush, drinking like a fish,
Plus I am lazy as it gets...
So I cut myself a pee-pee hole and found mushroom's tip.
And I continued to party, fading deep into my trip.
I was so high and way passed drunk that—
I had completely forgotton about my junk—I was lit.
Somehow I left out my magic wand; my lizard;
Hanging out like honey i shrunk the kids or a tiny little sliver.
If it hadnt been for the shrooms, no way could have I remembered;
What's her name tapping me on the shoulder pointing downward at my member.
My package was on display.
Man meat, free for all to gaze.
It was limp as limp could be, as if I was part of a parade.
The cat's out of the bag now.
My poor kitty was so sad, wow!
And to this very day it is blister,
Hearing, Hey buddy! How's little mister?
And this is how my story goes.
My life really sucks but it never blows.
I even changed my name; moved all around.
But the joke of Halloween never fails,
It follows me and we are bound.
No escape can be round from every farm to every town.
I tried every last trick in the book and
Finally, I have found,
An enhanced new look.
And now they tell tall tails
Of how it hooks along the ground.
Although I still eat shooms every year on Halloween,
I take time too think about my costume, just in case have to pee.
The End...
7-16-16
Poem submitted for My Most Embarrassing Moment Contest
If of diamond life is fabricated
wont for naught death be?
If in strong room life is kept
will for ages it last the treats of time?
If in rings of knights life is placed
can the shields remain formidable in all?
How did life leave so soon
could she have left the fortress of safety?
We cannot easily comprehend what’s above us
but can only be explaining by living on
Because rather on trust and faith our lives are hinged,
amidst spears and arrows our faces beams with hope
Our tomorrow we only wish to grasp yet make plans for
We cost the price of the unseen lucky to guessed rightly
life grows like mushrooms
some plucked away still young
Yet others grow grey before they time out
We open our eyes to see things this way
They’ll remain this way when we close them