Long Mushroom Poems
Long Mushroom Poems. Below are the most popular long Mushroom by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mushroom poems by poem length and keyword.
O' September 11th...
Seems like yesterday
But with all intent
Seems like such a long time away
Remember! Everyone explained
From now on everything will be changed
It’s true—many things have changed
But has everything really changed?
Air travel has changed
Hearts, minds of Americans have been changed
Of that there is no doubt
Or is 9-11 just one more scarecrow
Of war and its sordid legacy, what's all about
To stomp out our freedoms foes
Ah' my generation grew up in the shadow
Of a menacing mushroom shaped cloud ha·lo
An ominous reminder of the destructive power fiasco
Unleashed at the end of World War 2
Another generation is growing up today
With another image
The image of crumbling Twin Towers disarray
The symbol of Sept. 11, 2001 visage!
our home grown monarch
shall swing open war's hell gate~
h r
s o
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m m
c l o u d s
i n
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o o m
Brown the color of the passive ground Autumn I'm falling leaves horizontal the waist by product the leaves leave me Brown blooms with the bloom of unemployed in clouds Grands made from scratch chocolate cake taste the golden tan Brown pancake taste like hot coffee and cocoa yum I'm in pecan much and crunch right on mushroom potato soup delicious feels like synonym of dressing being in down Brown a cloud of pollution Brown the face and skin the many races Brown is a color nurturing ingrown it's the color of Mother Earth Brown so Earthly neutral Brown colors filled and pumping iron serious down-to-earth stable bility protection and supported sense of Duty and responsibilities 5th and the listing of last names I'll be around must be own wit
BROWN
10/29/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr
Sir Snooze a Lot, a dragon knight,
slept 'neath a mushroom one moonlit night;
it sheltered him from the meteor showers
safely he slept for unending hours.
This 'Shroom, ever so enchanted,
by a wizard it was planted;
in high-pitched hums, ethereal tunes
it sang morning, night and noon.
As he slept, this dragon dreamed,
of someday becoming a dragon king;
so realistic his dream became,
that he did awake to his fame.
Sir Snooze a Lot, Your Majesty,
it's time to awaken from your sleep.
I've granted your desired wish,
upon you powers I now lavish.
Awaken king of Dragon land and
give your serfs their new commands;
I find you are ever so worthy,
so now a mighty king, ye be!
You possess a heart of gold,
your own kingdom it shall enfold;
Take thy scepter and thy crown,
for your rule, you'll gain renown.
The King awoke as 'Shroom sang this song,
he yawned and tried to sing along;
he saw the scepter and the crown,
with sapphires, and diamonds all around.
Thanking 'Shroom he flew up the hill,
he was informed that old King Bill
had died that night, now he was king;
the dragons cheered and bells did ring.
Sir Snooze a Lot did snooze no more,
for he was never, ever bored;
and he went down in history,
for his successful ministry.
(science)
(has delivered)
(many useful things)
(to the mankind)
(except for the)
(weapons)
(for war and)
(mass destruction)
(the worst and the most)
(deadly amongst these is the)
(atom bomb, the explosion)
(of which produces)
(mushroom-shaped cloud)
(that billows upward)
(with debris, smoke, water)
(vapor along with the radioactive fission)
(particles that get dispersed menacingly by the wind)
(far away from the rising central column)
(with the message of death)
(we shouldn’t get)
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Inroduction"Wonder Woman" was a cartoon character I read a girl. She
was super strong and handled huge problems! She was awesome!
I have always wanted to be her! Strong, with those groovy boots, great
hair and outfit.yes, and those boots?
I never wanted to look like some Presidents wives, With dorkydresses
and pill box hats, running into churches.
I have always wanted to be a wild thing,.Strong and able to handle big
issues on my own. And, I have gone just that?
Those little girl ideas turned out to be a reality. Not a pansy am I and
not owned by anyone.
Solving big issues, not hiding behind an apron and unafraid to be political.
Even here~~ women are in closets. Do they live on the moon?
Under a mushroom? Or in a fairie palace?
Where are they? I nearly faint when I find a fearless poet.
That's just how my life turned out. As I first wanted it to be!
Men are not the leaders they think they are. Some very boneheaded
women leaders in the USA, acting like members of the Third Reich.
Men, too.!
We can make an impact with our poetry. It's needed!!!
Time to stop playing gardeners and bird watchers only!
Freedom has to be fought for. Poetry is a medium.
Being afraid to express yourself because of what others think?
That is why......I am..
Calling All Wonder Women!
The cinnamon red rooster lost
His place in the pecking order
Of the flock where another rooster
Battled him to near death
Leaving him with one eye pecked out
And the other swollen shut
Like a boxer who had gone too many rounds
Against the superior contender
That old rooster, forlorn and isolated
From the majority of the group
Found ways to entertain himself
On barn scraps and hay bales
Awaiting the just right moment
To forage for food and go for water
When all the other birds were away
Nibbling at foliage and insects
Dissecting whatever creature
Happened into their territory
The barn, where they grazed happily
Discovering gourmet rats and worms
Little things that make chickens cluck
Months after the rooster was handicapped
By his sparring partner who ruled the roost
There came a hen, a dainty mushroom colored
Lady who had been pecked at until she was
Swollen and hurting, awaiting demise
Leaving her near the rooster
Where she might find solace from the flock
There came a day when it was clear
Her heart and his were as if only one
They shared more than the loss of eyes
To the frenzied pecking of their dangerous kin
But discovered solidarity with one another
Forming a companionship that was quite beautiful
Together, their eggs grew suitable
For precious and graceful chicks
Who would be, despite their past pain,
Healthy, happy and bustling with pride
Chicks who would find pure delight
In sharing this wounded pair’s insights
Together, they grew stronger and more alive
Than they’d ever been because they were learning
What it means to give the gift of friendship
To another who shares your life experiences
Together, these two grew wise and found solace
In cackling and clucking through life
Perfectly content to avoid the strife
That comes from giving into nasty pride
Humility is sometimes the greatest joy in life
The tales they told of Doris
In the hills of Tazeltoff
Are remembered by the others
Who would jeer and tease and scoff
It seemed that little Doris
Was a timid little thing
When trolls of young and old
Would always laugh and run and sing
She hid behind the bushes
When other trolls would call
But then, one day they tricked her
And they tossed to her, their ball
And as she ran into the glen
How they were all amazed
For where she trod, now mushrooms grew!
Instantly! They praised
They saw that she had magic feet
Though all she knew was shame
She felt that being different
For her shyness, was to blame
Realizing she was special
As the trolls loved mushroom stew!
Doris learned there was a place for all
A place for me and you
Celebrating Diversity
Doris, the Magic Troll
Springtime on the ranch is just round the bend
You’ll get your nose cleared, we have cows and pigs
The thaw brings forth chores, that smell and offend
Rubber boots and gloves are now our new digs
As the snow melts, we are left with a moat
Springtime is here with its bag full of tricks
It’s sour and slick, so just clear your throat
The thistles now grow so watch out for pricks
The air never smells like sugar and spice
Out in the birch, there grows fly agaric
It deters the skunk, encrusted with lice
This mushroom will make, all feel lethargic
A blend of toadstool and garlic I’m told
Will stop puffy butt from reaching our fold
1950’s poodle skirts made a brief come back.
kids in the eighties thought it was funny, a fact.
my own daughter had some scotty dog clothes too
not knowing they were old, thinking they were new.
I half expect those smock tops of the seventies to return.
and the mushroom kitchen appendages – vases for your fern.
nancy sinatra’s white boots have made a resurgence at school.
they are worn by a teacher who clomps around like a mule.
someone said to me last week “Polyester will never return”.
we had to threaten that material, and finally match it to burn.
it will show up one of these days as a trampoline or something.
nothing is ever new, said the fabric-studying-professor king.