Best Pop One Poems


Premium Member Pink Skies

POPPIES  &  MUSHROOMS 

I desire a beautiful sky.
One to inhale with my big brown eyes.
Fly like a kite, 
under the midday light.
Join me in this lollipop fight.
Till we say Goodnight.

Let's sit on the floor Indian style.
Passing around the same smile.
Holding each other by the wing.
As we take a puff and sing,
a song about: Poppies and Mushrooms,
Lets hold hands and enjoy the fumes.

I rub my bare body with poison ivy.
A poisonous Vera, deep aloe skin deep 
I enjoy the penetration under my earthly skin.
With the goodness of a sneeze that feels like a sin.
With Poppies and Mushrooms,
my hair I groom.
An inviolate flight on acid.
Skinny dipping in the calmness placid. 

I want to touch that elephant in the sky.
Before the illusion vanishes before my eyes.
Pink clouds and fluffy marshmallows.
Purple kittens and rainbow shadows.

Liquid bamboo, and poppies too.
Cocoa mushrooms, to get rid of the flu.
Poppies and Mushrooms, in a jungle beat.
Down my legs, like a dog in rut.
Poppies and mushrooms, and a giant balloon.
Pop one for me, and act like a baboon.
Walk with me across this gingerbread bridge.
Let's use up all the cake in the fridge.

Graffiti and skittles, 
While I sing "Hey Diddle Diddle."
Lets follow the unicorn, with green feet.
Poppies and Mushrooms ever so sweet.
Here Kitty Kitty, feel my heart pulse.
Hear me meow and tweet tweet tweet.
Kool-Aid and Hawaiian punch for lunch. 
How about some orange Captain Crunch.

Poppies and Mushrooms, from the sky I fell.
Footsteps down the yellow belly tripping trail.
Skip to my Lou, it's time to swallow another pink pill.
And sing me this song, where all these illusions are real. 

by;p.d.

Premium Member - Haiku X 157 - Eat the Nature -

a quest for true love
                                  nature's food on the menu
                                   - good growth conditions

                                     nature's diverse wealth
                                   exhaust-free environment
                                       - gives you appetite

                                      hunt with empathy
                               pop one handful in your mouth 
                                   - red raspberry beads




 
                                  




20.07.2019
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Constant ********

I'm bringing it hard like you've never 
seen,
showing you **** you won't ever 
believe.
You didn't remember now you're 
down on the pavement,
with your head split because you 
forgot our arrangement.
I have these evil intentions,
which are mixed with images too 
gruesome to mention.
I'll choke you and watch as you 
strangle,
I don't care I'll leave your ass 
mangled.
now listen up before your face gets 
rearranged,
and they're calling the corner to come 
pick up the remains.
If you're talking to me your ass will 
get hit,
you'll be crying like a baby who can't 
find the tit.
I told you once but you must not be 
listening,
Next it's going to be your grave that 
I'm pissing in.
I'll pop one in you and not feel guilty,
Looking like Dennis the Menace so 
nasty and filthy.
So I'm cracking your head back and 
forth,
trying to drill this **** into your 
cerebral core.
It's time you paid your dues and dealt 
with this *****,
because I'm getting tired of your 
constant ********.
© Joan Mccue  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Decry the Ace

None's more a noble try
Than to pop one in on the fly

Takes deft swings to cram one in
Others glance 'em off the pin

For such a feat so grand you'd think
There'd be more in it than just a drink

Scored an Ace once, had to buy
We ran that keg really dry

When mine went in, it cleaned my purse
If it happens again I'll surely curse

Yet some denied ponder why
If I get another, I think I'll lie
© Greg Gaul  Create an image from this poem.

The Capsule of Validity

She trickles and puddles in pools of warped fabrications,
With insipid and sheepish defenses,
She clouds my concentration of clarity and washes away the pitiful pigment—
Swallow.
Swallow the mystic pain of proper awareness,
And as the tremor of repulsive reality flumes over me,
Every sense is sharp, cruel, and plastered on the wall of grief, 
I am catatonic. 
Pop one, two, three down the rabbit hole of ignorant bliss, 
And become conscious.  
Conscious of my role in the game of deception,
And of my inept, used, and trampled body.

The exasperated shades deluge my blind feeble eyes, 
Yet still I yearn for the pill of knowledge.

Premium Member Just a Letter In a Balloon

Hey kid, it's been a while since you and I have talked in silence. In fact, it's been over a hundred years now. Just a quick little scribble to remind you of the ways you and I have lived in the past. remember those days when we were young and we lived carefree and wild. Those days of young when we played in the woods, went hiking, fishing and camping. Remember those days of young men when we would hit up the night clubs and party our brains out all night long, dancing and trying to pick up any young lady that was intoxicated enough to fall victim to us trying to fancy them and luring them into our flats and onto our cots, after the clubs closed. (Ah...those were the days). Remember the wives we've had and the children we've raised... I wonder how our great-great grandkids are? I wonder if we even have any? Who are they, what do they do...what are they like? Do you think they even know who we were, what we were, or how things used to be when we were alive?  Are there still trees, plants and water still left on earth? Is earth still in existence? Have people finally come together (highly unlikely- I presume). Is white still white and black still black? Are men still men and women still women? The list can go on, and on, and on. So many questions, so many thoughts, so many...so many. Well kid, before I say so long and say "see ya soon- hopefully" And, before I put this letter in a balloon and send it up to the stars in hopes that it reaches you in the heavens one day. I just want to say "thanks" Thanks for being you, thanks for the life you lived and the paths you've chosen. Lastly, I am sending two balloons with this identical letter up so if and when you do capture these floating balloons a hundred years from now, remember to pop one when you catch them... pop it so that this letter can fall to earth so to remind people of how things used to be, how I was when I was alive, how lovely life used to be (for me). The other balloon and letter is yours to keep and treasure. See ya soon kiddo... Love you always, Self  


Letter To My Future Self Poetry Contest 
Sponsor: Silent One 
9/21/2021


Premium Member Survival Tips for Recovering Cynics

One:
Wake up slowly.
Admit it was never that deep.
Let your first word be hmmm.
Let your second be whatever.

Two:
Stretch, but not like you mean it.
Pop one joint, then stop.
You are not an overachiever.
You’re alive. That’s enough.

Three:
Brew something hot
and unnecessarily complicated.
Call it process.
Sip. Sigh.
Spill a little on purpose.

Four:
Reintroduce yourself
to color.
Start with gray.
Work up to a muted mustard.
No pressure.

Five:
Trust nothing that smiles too easily.
Except maybe dogs.
And one cashier
who says you’re all set
like she means it.

Six:
Throw out the list you made 
of everyone who owes you.
Keep the one you made
of whom you survived—
remember who survived you.

Seven:
Don’t look for closure.
Just check your teeth for spinach
when you think you ate,
and get on with it.

Premium Member That Thou Art

she was an artwork in progress

like graffiti on a wall which covered

bricks in her head in the chakra’s colours

connected to the world with easel and brush


but the paint inside her was not quite free yet

too many restrictions had been imposed by 

a socialized search for stability and adherence

of what others seemed to deem the norm of good taste


she blew up balloons with pigment dye figments

of her imagination and rose-tinted shards of mosaic

filled the room with fragrance of sandalwood and patchouli 

and tied them to her body for levitation and consciousness


without any drugs she floated in psychedelic magic

engaged in lightness and transcended borders of nothingness

detachment rose to the ceiling but that was constructed

of glass and was so solid that she could not break through


thoroughly made it only allowed her to see hidden justice

while with helium and unnecessary laughter she clung

like a spider beneath herself and below shine through ascent

the Buddha above any suspicion had no chisel nor hammer


even Karma was out of reach for she was young and resilient

but over time the brush with delight dried up like a fig tree

without water shedding seemingly forbidden fruity melee 

now insecure in impermanence she wished to be floored


only when she reminded herself that life was suffering

in itself did she come to the conclusion that eventually

the inflated globes of fanciful reverie would pop one by one and 

bring her back to square one and attempt safe passage once more


20th July 2021

Horror Movies

I like a good horror movie,
Perhaps you, as well do too,
It puts my life in perspective
That's just what it ought to do

When waking up is loathsome,
My life gone too far astray,
And fighting off being lonesome
Is too hard for me to bear
Certainly on this day,
It's a great relief for me to know,
That my horrror movie catalogue is there

I pop one in the player
And sit back to watch the show
Maybe some homicidal slayer,
Whatever, I do most surely know...

It's not dripping my blood all over,
Not facing monsters scary
Not turning into a werewolf,
With claws, hooves, and, oh, so hairy...

So horror movies, most surely have their use,
I'm glad that they do exist,
And, here, for watching them, is my excuse.
© Tom Bell  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Notes In a Balloon

So many days later and these days have now turned into years so much so that it looks like time is turning grey

She is the good to balance out my bad so one could say these are my silver linings, up floating in the clouds when we are vibing together

Simplistic conversation with complicated silence, no matter the situation we conquer time so I know we have what some would call timeless 

This must be why every time you are lying next to me and your smile seems to hold me as my arms protect you time seems to matter less

They say less is more, life is about the little things, and happiness is found within yourself

So, please forgive me if I space out when you start to tell me about your day, because it’s not that I don’t care

I am just trying to capture every moment and picture you give me before I get lost in the way you turn away right before you smile, or the way you eyes 
sparkle in broad daylight, and I could never forget how excited you are to see me when you get home from work

I had to find myself in order to find you because you always have to dig through the dirt before you find the treasure

My queen who always has a natural glow like an iridescent gold

Hair tied up or in a bun with your favorite pair of leggings on with a matching tank, I know you like to dress up but even when you don’t I can still see her gold

Tonight was a special night and I am the romantic type so for this 14th day of the second month I wrote you a couple of notes in poka’dot balloons

Just a few things to let you know I noticed you and the feelings we get seem to match when we are together and when we are apart

Pop one balloon a day to see a little something I appreciate about you

p.s.  are you floating with me when you read my notes in a balloon…

Premium Member Your Sunshine Box

You named me your Sunshine
And gave me a sunshine box
And my face is all aglow
For I fill my five senses of sight,smell
taste, touch and sound
And I unpack each one nice and slow.

Out comes a picture of me and you
In a cottage on a hill which we have still
The most beautiful times we shared
Many summers ago, of memories forever
I see you now beckoning me from the door.

 Out comes a scented candle of Jasmine
The smell surrounds me as you glow
I can feel it light up my heart 
the smell now washes over me 
making me go with the flow.

Out comes a tin of Caramels
Our favourite of the lot
I immediately pop one into my mouth
Waiting for it to explode once more
And don’t care if it goes to my waist anymore.

Out comes my yellow coat on which I dote
We would snuggle under it 
so soft to the touch 
I miss you so much
I wear it to feel your hug once more

Our comes my favourite songs on a C.D
You made me many moons ago
I hear you now as if your there
My heart receiving warm signals 
As I sing along with you once more.

I Thank you so much for my sunshine box
For it was a gift from you
I lock it up now and keep it close
Right here next to me
The sun now slanting in through the window.


27.07.2020

Hole

A hole so deep I cannot see 
past the bottles around my feet
pop another, you'll be fine
the pain will fade in due time. 

Pop, one, two, or three
the hole grows  
that sinking feeling
as eyes roll back
and body goes limp
taking you deeper
tightening its grip.

It has you now
It drags you down
that hole you made
too fill your pain.

In the end
You will be broken
the hole so deep 
words miss spoken
lashing out at
all you love
Lost in thought 
Rule by the drug.
© Jeff Smith  Create an image from this poem.

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