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.


Doomsday Clock January 2022

Doomsday Clock January 2022...

the most recent tabulation
signaled one hundred seconds to midnight

A couple years ago
similarly titled poem I did write,
yet looms as harbinger unless
*****sapiens can unite
one non Yiddish speaking
Ongematert wishing ye
fare thee well tonight
before betokening apocalyptic sight
'course one must go about
her/his business - right?

Rhetorical question - yet
impossible mission quite
challenging, where one
brother grimm ponders plight
Cosmofunnel favorite fan
Katina Borgersen "poof"
our acquaintanceship dissolved 
(think - snapped fingers) outright
regardless, whether... 
perchance we ever
cross paths long daze

journey into night
met under virtual reality moonlight
ah... the mere awareness
of her existence
metaphorically found modest, mercurial
mellow male within limelight
oy vey admittedly one 
rusty Ongepatshket knight
fumbling in the dark with
his unreliable sputtering jacklight
hooping aforesaid gal whose eyes alight

upon mine genuine words doth newt
coon sitter me laughable, nor impolite,
yet accept hard reality to highlight
and/or _ underscore delight
full dame online - each of us,
an infinitesimal jot of granulite
within vast cosmos given finite
minuscule time to excite
our senses trending utmost delight
during brief unique
deoxynucleic chromosomal copyright

til death do us part,
whether natural demise
or... huge mushroom
clouds radioactive blight
unimaginable nightmarish scenario 
impossible mission to close third eye blind 
webbed global haunting spectacle 
mortal creatures linkedin to ill fate 
including yours truly, 
a generic, garden variety 
hermetically sealed cell bit anchorite.

Uneasiness far greater
to confront atomic augury
than pernicious penury
which ceases within eyeblink
far more serious than perjury
nonetheless afflicting me
with psychological injury.

Personal finances pitted
me deep in hock
into red room zone, 
shining thru the mist
story, yes I experience
quite a shell shock,
to absorb inconvenient truth 
great swaths of Gaia 
analogous to dead zone,

nevertheless, now finds yours
truly poorest, oldest, and nerdiest
curmudgeon goofy "kid"
on the chopping block
within Lake Wobegon
hard space and third rock
from sun as inevitable doom
inches closer as each second elapses  
insync with inaudible tick tock.
Form: Rhyme


Voluntary Unconditional Surrender Woke

Voluntary unconditional surrender woke...,

Viz hitting yours truly,
when yokel egghead doth jinx
whereby ye cannot comprehend figurative
wimpy vainglory, unequivocally, tectonically,
smoldering resentments I stoke,

he doth bare his soul no joke,
no matter insight doth severely challenge
cyber surfing passersby, who attempt
to interpret courtesy
mental torture doth invoke

brutality, difficulty, futility gobbledygook,
heavily taxing your fifty 
plus shades of gray
I apologetically, grudgingly (ha),  
painstakingly, unwittingly... poke,

when mine broadcast 
red by anonymous folk
admittedly poetically trumpeting ambiguity
overlain donned with high falutin cloak
peace be with thee courtesy this bloke.

Electronic date/time stamp permeates
within copious, illustrious,
and porous corpus callosum
hemispheric spongy sinks

mister re: mysterious as Sphinx
validation indubitably backfires
invariably induces loosed
unicellular sized rat finks

cerebral blackout courtesy
one to many drinks,
envision sucker punched by
rockin sockin robots one named

Muhammad Ali t'other Leon Spinks,
or gordian knotted cognitive kinks
bajillion befuddled blinks,
albeit feeble analogy methinks
to render genuine concomitant

convoluted, mangled, twisted... (think
Möbius strip) sentiment
specifically linkedin with
sincere appreciation meant
pertaining to this gent

despite slight trepidation
as faux Geico petsmart agent
forced celibate nun sensical chap
considering entering convent
cloistered existence remaining

days of my life get spent,
where "15 minutes
might save me, not so shabby decent
15% or more on car insurance."

Paraphrase aforementioned Matt Speak
more easily succinctly understood,
versus gibberish as ????????
(i.e. the word Greek spelled in Greek)

essentially long in the tooth fella
self anointed literate sheikh
feeble flattered fungi with
average mushroom shaped physique
trends towards playfulness

in tandem with harmless streak
merely acknowledges how his unique
self expression oft times 
tongue-in-cheek
experiences giddiness at unsolicited
positive feedback versus he/she,

who doth bitingly, flagrantly,
outrageously, witheringly... critique
modesty misunderstood equivalent
of poetic (peekaboo) hide and seek  
to Dani body hook ken find me 
game to reveal me re: hide and seek.

Drink More Tea - Part 2

It’s okay to be nervous
But there’s no need to fight
When colors flow inside of shapes 
You have taken flight
Directions will be pointed 
But you’re flying much too high
Caterpillars may inhale smoke
But eat plants to Butterfly 
Put that in your pocket
It’s still too soon to see
Calm child, your only worry now
Is how to Drink More Tea
It is the glue that binds us all
Like a Milky Way of toads
Not all venoms taste so sweet 
Not all Big Bangs explode
For this place holds a balance
Despite its ever scattering mess
The brightest stars super nova
Within their ego deaths
The implosion of undertow left
Is so dense that it is black
Inside of it light cannot escape
And that’s your beacon back
Now we’ve reached a point
And would you look at that
You’re looking more and more like me
And I a Cheshire Cat
You’re getting so much bigger
And the hang of this place
You’ve eaten the right mushroom pieces
And now you want to race
But before you venture off
And go be on your own
I must forewarn not all that live here
Want this fabric sewn
See while this place’s purpose
Remains to figure out one’s toll
There exist a house of cards
That aims to take control
And if they knew the things I’ve told you
Already I’d be dead
I can still hear the shriek of her voice
Screaming “Off with his head!”
They torture us inside the courtyard
For being who we are
For contemplating philosophy
And expanding minds too far
They’ve found a way to take our treats
And replace them with their tarts
They are boy and girl, but not like us...
The king and queen of hearts
The famous duo and powerful friends
Only want control
You’ll find them at the very bottom
Where demons infect your soul
See, the tarts they manufacture
Once you try you cannot stop
White coated hares recommend them
While their masters sit on top
Once you’ve tasted just a few
For an even smaller amount of time
You can no longer live without them
No matter how many times you try
And once you’re on their hooks
They take away your life
Drug to the courtyard to be judged
More pain, agony, and strife
But it’s at this point you should realize
Before you hear her shout
That I warned you of all this
And have told you the way out
Just reach deep in your pocket
If the situation becomes grotesque
And if you figure it out you’ll know
Why a raven is like a writing desk

Premium Member everybody's dying

everybody’s dying 

 everybody’s dying, everybody’s dying 
 in this world we call insane 
 and nobody knows it,  
‘cause it’s part of the game 
  
 and there is no resurrection 
 once we fall down from that cross 
 and there is no institution 
 to redeem our final loss 

 and there is no cotton bandage 
 that can stop the bleeding wound 
 and no time for looking backwards 
 ‘cause we are already doomed 

 everybody’s dying, everybody’s dying 
 and we’re smiling all the while 
 we just never realize it 
 we just line up single file 

 and the explosion of that bullet 
 bursts across the nighttime sky 
 and the mushroom cloud filters down 
 and the laughing people cry 

 and there is no restoration 
 once our cities tumble down 
 and there is no consolation 
 for no prizes can be found 

 and there is no rhyme or reason 
 that can color over dead 
 and no time for looking backwards 
 to the words that Jesus said 

 everybody’s dying, everybody’s dying 
 and some have sold their souls 
 and everybody knows it 
 after sifting through the coals 

 and there is no hope for another time 
 the stainless sword just fell 
 there is no care for your fellow man 
 as he stumbles into hell 

 and there is no constitution 
 that politicians sign 
 for the sign’s already written 
 and sealed since the start of time 

 and everybody’s dying, everybody’s dying 
 though none can answer why 
 and there are no super patriots 
 who storm across the sky 

 and there is no firm foundation 
 to hold your footing down 
 and there is no more destitution 
 past the hunger sound 

 and there is no vegetation 
 to keep a man alive 
 he should have eaten the bread of life 
 if he wanted to survive 

 and no time for looking backwards 
 to the way it could have been 
 that time has passed and satan’s tongue 
 has pierced the hearts of men 
  
 everybody’s dying, everybody’s dying 
 God, take this pain from me 
 this sight of annihilation 
 this staining of the sea 
  
 everybody’s dying, everybody’s dying 
 the anguish is too real 
 even a blind man who has darkened eyes 
 no longer can conceal 

 that window of his inner soul 
 which holds the picture clear 
 everybody’s dying, everybody’s dying 
 my friend… 

 the time is here

tolbert

Cold

I search for words
To describe this feeling...
After you told me
You hate me...

I remember when 
I went swimming in the ocean
One day in January...
Ice was curled in elaborate design
Of wind-blown swirls on the sand...
Snowflakes mixed with grains of sand
And bitter wind blew both into my face-
Sea foam blew across the beach
Like stray, sodden mushroom clouds
And the ocean waves were dark 
And angry...
It was so cold, this January...
But I wasn't scared.

That day, I had I thought of
The ocean in autumn;
When I swam last in autumn,
It was October, and the
Wind was harsh and strong;
Waves were wild with
The fresh memory of stormclouds,
So they crested high and broke hard
On the beach...
The sun hadn't shone that day either.
The water, when I dove into it,
Was cold, but warmer than the air-
Vicious to look at,
But under the surface of the waves
Still gentle as summer...
Familiar...
I had gone back in more than once
Just because I loved the feel,
The pull of the current, the raw energy
Of the water against my skin,
And I dove through waves again
And again...

I knew it would be worse this time,
A few months later
And so many degrees colder...
I almost decided not to do it
When I peeled off my coat, 
My shirt, my boots, pants, and socks...
The wind bit my skin hard, tearing
Into my warm body, and the gound,
Icy, was like bared teeth against the soles
Of my feet...
Too late to back out now.

So I ran, barefoot, over ice-ringed
Puddles of seawater and snow-flecked sand...
I reached the water, the first soft waves...
I was slowed by the foamy surf,
Which, only knee-deep, was a strong deterrent,
But then I was past it, and I dove...
That first, frigid, smack in the face
As the water closed over my head
Stole all heat, all memory of heat,
From my body all in an instant...
I surfaced gasping in shock,
Heart about to either stop or burst-
I'm still not sure which,
All I could think of was the cold...
It was so cold...
Colder than anything I've ever known...

I retreated clumsily-
I should have recoiled from the ground,
Stepping quickly and lightly
Over cruelly sharp grains of 
Equally mixed ice and sand,
But I could no longer feel the cold...
I could feel nothing...
Could think nothing...

When you told me you hate me...
It felt like that.


Caught Up In a Fairy Tale

from Juniper’s Daughter:                      
War Is Obsolete – Futility and Hope
By Nick Armbrister


Caught Up In a Fairy Tale
My dreams haunt me as does the music, drunk I dance to the mesmerizing tales told by the songs of 25 years ago, as real now as back then. The heady rush of the moment takes me and lifts me up ever so high until my primeval fear snatches my euphoria away like committing an armed robbery on a child for his sweets. 

Cold war nightmare returns with a dozen vengeances as I dare to lift the veil of the nightmare, I only wanted to peek inside! Nena and Frankie got it right in their two songs 99 Red Balloons and Two Tribes. We really did live in a nightmare but with such erotic desires - do anything you want do coz after they drop the bomb and nuke us all in World War3 no one will be left to care or give a damn. 

I hear my mother ask me what you want for Xmas son. Mother I want this... to go back to Xmas in 1986 and to see a nuclear war, for the Warsaw pact/Soviet forces to come across the Fulda gap and the north German plain. For NATO to stop their conventional forces with tactical nukes after air power fails, the heady rush of nuclear escalation killing us all, overwhelming our planet irradiating our world darkening our skies with nuclear mushroom clouds. 

On and on and on I writhe in ecstatic enjoyment seeing the work of the devil thru Christian believing Western men bringing on the end of their, our, world stopping the heathen red menace with all they’ve got. You see it was a matter pride not common sense that made them react they were trained well. 

Now after watching my Xmas gift, I ask to go home. I hear no reply. Slowly it dawns on me, I can’t go home and there is no home. Just an irradiated world stuck in Xmas 1986, totally destroyed. What did I wish for? Am I dreaming a nightmare that I’m stuck in, did the veil fall after I looked inside drawing me in a prisoner? 

I can say what a f*ckin' rush, I don’t need drugs they’re for pussies I just need my Cold War music and my mind that is like a television. On and on the music plays as the Pershing 2 and Cruise Missiles launch as F-16s and other jets battle it out in the winter heavens as the countdown to the end begins. 

Who said the darkness wasn’t fun? Who did win in the end of the world?
Form: Verse

Ah-Whoretease

HE SPOKE OF HER AS A GODESS
THEY MARVELED AT HER WAYS OF
KEEPING HIM AT BAY: IT'S SAID SHE
ONCE TOUCHED THE WATERS OF
A CREEK IN CRETE AND THE
WATER FROZE AT HER COMAND !
HE STOOD IN THE WATERS OF HETRA
AND THE WOMAN OF CRETE, WERE
ENSLAVED TO HIM.
THE STORY SPEAKS OF WORDS
 SPOKEN TO SEPERATE A PERSON
WHO WISHED FROM BEGGER, TO LOVER
SHE STOOD IN THE WATERS OF CRETE
AND CURSED HIM, AND THAN
SHE CURSED THE WATER GODS OF CRETE
AND LL WHO HEARD HER 
BECAME LOVERS OF HIM.
THE WATERS FROZE BENEATH HIM.
" THESE SALTED FISHY WATERS
 FROZE BENEATH ME!"

IT'S SAID THEY ATE THIS VERY MEAL !

PASTRY SHEETS
BUTTER
1/2 CUP OF OLIVE OIL
2 MEDIUM ONIONS
1 POUND OF SPINACH (BLANCED, DRINED AND CHOPPED)
4 CLOVES OF CRUSHED GARLIC
1/2 CUP OF SHREDDED CARROTS
3 t CONACGE
1/2 CUP ITALIAN COUSCOUS
1 LBS. GROUND BEEF
1 3/4 PLAIN YOGURT
1 T MACE
CAYEENE PEPPER
IN A SKILLET
1 TEASPOON OF PAPRIKA
2 CUPS OF SLICED MUSHROOM

IN A SKILLET, HEAT OIL, SPINACH, MUSHROOMS,GARLIC, ADD ONIONS AND CARROTS, SAUTE, UNTIL ONIONS ARE TRANSLUCENT., REMOVE FROM THE SKILLET.
ADD GROUND BEEF, COOK UNTIL BROWN, ADD SPICES AND SAUTEED VEGGIES, ADD COGNAC AND YOGURT, ALLOW TO COOL AND TASTE, ADD SALT AND PEPER IF NEEDED.
PREHEAT THE OVEN, ROOL OUT PASTRY SHEETS, LAYERING THEM AND COATING EACH LAYER WITH BUTTER. (FIVE LAYERS) IN THE CENTER OF A COOKIE SHEET, LAYER THE SHEET OF FILLO DOUGH, ADD MEAT AND CREATE A BEAUTIFUL WRAPPING FOR THE MIXTURE. BAKE UNTIL DONE.
THE WOMAN IN THE STORY IS SAID TO CURSED THE EDGES OF THE FOREST, WHILE GATHERING WOOD WITH HER SERVANT, SHE SPOKE TO HIM IN A FOREIGN LAUGAGE, AND BECAME PREGANT, AND DARED HER HUSBAND TO LEAVE HER. HER HUSBAND , STAYED, AND TWO YEARS LATER MADE HER SISTER POREGANT WITH TRIPLETTES, TWO BOYS AND A GIRL, AT THE AGE OF TEN ONE OF THE BOYS, TOOK A STONED EDGED MALLET AND BEAT A FULL GROWN BULL, HE ORDERED THE SEVANTS TO COOK THE BULL BEFORE HIS PARENTS CAME HOME FROM ROME. THEY DID AND NEVER TOLD, BUT THEY TOOK THE HIDE OF THE BULL AND MADE A RODE FOR THE MYTHIC GOD NATAL, AND CASTED A SPELL ON THE BOY. AT THE AGE OF TWENTY HE BECAME A SOCEROR IN THE PALCAE OF CASEAR, HE, HIS BROTHER AND HIS TRIPLETTE SISTER, SUDUCES CASEARS SOLDIERS AND MAIDS MAKING PREGANT AND HAVING TWENTY THREE CHILDREN. ONE IS SAID TO HAVE BEEN A cASEAR OF rOME!

Premium Member The Smidget Puggily and Her Prettisome Guru

"Dammit - I take your advice seriously!" Puggily said,
Squeezing as much water as she could from her tiny red pinafore,
(Looking rather embarrassed and dejected).
Twinkles, her prettisome guru, still could not speak a word,

As he/she, (gurus are asexual, you see), rolled on the grass, laughing -
'Laughing' being an understatement - clutching his/her stomach in hilarity ...
"Oh, gosh, my ribbies are gonna split!!" roared Twinkles, "Make it stop!"
But Puggily was not amused, her furrowed brow deepening ...

"I do NOT see the humor in this situation!" she said, shivering in the breeze,
(Smidgets are small, impish creatures, but they have a fierce sense of pride) ...
"Your wings are stuck together!" Twinkles roared, now turning red,
Puggily spinning on her toes, doing her best to dry out ...

She was also turning rather crimson, though for different reasons,
Her anger rising, along with chilly bumps on her skin.
"You might toss me a towel!" she cried, but Twinkles was lost to laughter,
Rolling and giggling, trying desperately to catch his/her breath.

The guffaws continued on for a good twenty minutes, then started to relent,
At which point Puggily had partially dried her diaphanous wings.
But when she tried to use them they just made a wet raspberry sound,
And this, of course, set Twinkles to laughing hysterically again ...

"Great Floppy's Flidgeon! You sound like a fart!!" Twinkles howled.
Well, poor Puggily had had about enough, and turned to leave ...
"Our hour is UP!" she yelled back over her shoulder, tossing a doubloon.
Normally she'd just fly off, but her wings were still too sodden,

And she wasn't about to make any more raspberries for Twinkles' amusement.
"It's just a saying ... a colloquialism!" Twinkles forced, between gasps ...
He/she never thought she'd take him/her seriously, you see.
As she disappeared into the purple mushroom forest, Puggily yelled back,

"Well, the same to YOU, then - go jump in the lake!!"
She strained to hear a splash,
But the only sound was Twinkles ...
Roaring with laughter.






~ 1st Place ~  in the "Smidget Puggily And Her Prettisome Guru" Poetry Contest, Caren Krutsinger, Judge & Sponsor.

Break of Day Spawns Thwarted Revanchist Rebellion Among Biosphere

The last trailing tendril filaments
of moon beams nocturnally trace
fashion an illusory gilded chariot Ark,
whence upon celestial runners,
the approach of dawn's early light
illuminated terrestrial space
which nebulous solar city flanges
revisited since time millennial
hubbub of human race
nsync with Zodiacal constellations,
which appear to shift

as planet Earth axis place
alternated in accordance with
inexplicable universal teenage
mutant Ninja turtles joint pact
with power rangers assumption
sans quotidian playstation remotely
controlled by aliens upon
oblate spheroid figurative stage
set whence commencement nudged
village people foment quiet riot rage
and rant against

uncontrollable catastrophic frenzy,
when cosmic creator
rehearses another page
from playbook, which
color coded cobbled Bible
emanates with radiant hues
of yellow and osage
nonetheless, no mortal adept to predict
(only within plus and/or minus
some marginal variance of error).

oft times punishing atmospheric phenomena
incarcerated, pistol whipped
(if anther incorrect),
whiplash unleashed, oppressed, imposed
challenging condition testing ground
flora and fauna could thrive,
whereat most hardy
plants and animals didst abound
linkedin upon terra firmae
murmur of orchestrated
organisms devising fitting
evolutionary survival traits

plentiful glory vis a vis L'Chaim;
gnome hatter outlook required
sprinting thru uber vanguard,
where zero sum game pitted
disadvantaged Feng shui
living things poorly sparred mismatched
against itching attired egghead,
kickstarting netzero beastie boys
indeed emulating hotmail prodigies
holding greensward ground.

scrimmage fostered, elicited,
dictated, commandeered nature
going full throttle with pings
across biological labyrinth
positioning glommed, peeved,
mis tweeted seeds of life, and white lily,
within soil lent green grubby business
whereby herb and woody stemmed
recalcitrant proto flings
wrote toe rooter bakers

gave Gaia a run for her money
to buy Buffalo wings
chasing miscreants nimbly
outwitting, out-rigging
outsmarting nettlesome stings,
and sage protuberant fungi,
released messengers where rise home
spore ports left nada mushroom,
though symbiosis wood
bark a roll a cord.
Form: Rhyme

Atomic Brinkmanship Double Edged Grisly Horror Jawbones Kristallnacht

Vladimir Putin itching
to loose nuclear bomb
end of the world scenario ofttimes
iterated throughout history
though an atheist (actually Unitarian),
no doubt this, that or another psalm
countless times the Bible
references Armageddon and doomsday
impossible mission to remain
cool, collected and calm.

Whether affiliated with donkey or elephant
Democrat or Republican viz
blue war red respectively
political hot issues don't amount
to a (Sam) hill of beans
when Sword of Damocles count
approaches zero hour
as global tensions mount

signaling increased chance
trigger finger will free
avast nuclear winter
(across world wide web) re:
leasing plethora, pyrocumulus
mushroom clouds tree

mend us planetary explosions
annihilating webbed wide
world, an irrevocable
indeed earthlinked debacle
spelling widespread species
multitudinous extinction
ex post de facto after super
bowling powers (wannabe) vied

to wrest empowerment spanning
entire realm sans third rock
from the father, sun and holy ghost,
who turned substantial pock
kits of flora and fauna
once populating oblate spheroid ad hoc

significant swaths of life forms
pulverized and/or turned to ash
transformed into radioactive wasteland
after war mongers brash
lee usurped hegemony
(ruling inhabitants
of Gaia with an iron fist
with a smidgen of flavoring
courtesy of Missus Dash

superfluous taste enhancer,
when sibling burnt offering views
between Venus and Mars incendiary
tolled mourning news
smithereens sole remnant
poisoned every square inch
from weapon of mass destruction

that did cruise
engendering thick noxious fog
disabling fox but not cockroach
while smoldering seas and continents
skull and crossbones didst poach
amidst the gasified, liquified, pureed
where holographic ghoulish super bowl coach

rendering lifelessness home for menagerie
where virtue trounced vice as organisms
(particularly one primate) didst try
(predominant 21st century simians)
tool heave with amity, comity, and empathy
animals and plants an experiment
that went awry

presaging a nuclear winter with nary a winner
implicating mankind as the absolute sinner
instantaneously after Doomsday Clock
signaled point of no return
where grim reaper the sole grinner.
Form: Rhyme

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