Long Shrooms Poems
Long Shrooms Poems. Below are the most popular long Shrooms by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shrooms poems by poem length and keyword.
A team of adventurers? A group of friends?
They are a family and that will never change.
Hurtling through space on a mission on the Marvel I spaceship, Reed his buddy Ben along with Reed’s girlfriend Sue and her brother Johnny, were accidentally exposed to cosmic radiation, and each gained remarkable superhuman powers.
The FF as they became known, The Fantastic Four became some of their world’s greatest Superheroes.
The group have had many adventures together exploring new realms of the universe and become protectors stopping villains and other threats.
They are Mister Fantastic, The Thing, The Invisible Girl and The Human Torch and will always be the ‘F.F.’
My favorite of their adventures that I remember is when Doctor Doom captures the Invisible Girl. He takes her hostage, and as ransom he makes the FF go back in time to steal magic treasure using her as a hostage so the Fantastic Four will travel back in time to steal the Blackbeard’s enchanted treasure Doctor Doom tells them that he will use the treasure to conquer the world and rule it in peace. The others don’t believe him, so Mr. Fantastic tricks him by swapping the real treasure with cheap chains. Dr. Doom then joins forces with the Sub-Mariner, who puts a magnetic device in the Baxter Building. Dr. Doom uses this magnet to pull him and the Fantastic Four with the building into space.
The Sub Mariner tries to get rid of them so they can’t stop him taking control of the world’s leaders and brings the building back to its rightful position on earth. Dr. Doom is stranded in space on an asteroid. He comes back to earth and there is a lot of switching of minds via berry juice and hallucinogenic juices (Probably LSD and Galactic Shrooms) and Dr. Doom eventually leaves the Fan Four in peace (for now) to go on with other wild adventures, because he mistakenly thinks he had killed Mr. Fantastic, with his superiority. Dr. Doom is a cool character in the Marvel Comics, and the Fantastic Four are all cool Superheroes.
The Alcoholic in Your Life
Might be the dirty man in the gutter,
Or your mate, so loaded he can only stutter.
She might be the loudmouth at the bar,
Or the woman who almost died,wrecking her car.
Sadly, could be your father or mother.
Cousin, aunt, sister or beloved brother.
Ages of addicts are no longer fifty.
Some eleven year olds, sneak drink at home, they think it's nifty.
Alcoholism begins in denial, first by the drinker,
Then, the fellow deniers: friends and family, too.
Unable to see where this might have a fatal end.
Our society so worked up over fentanyl and shrooms,
We scoff at them throwing the drug, alcohol, up in our bathrooms.
We've yet to understand all alcohol is a dangerous drug,
I know, not you~you really are not addicted.
Many die of this disease each day, deadly conflicted.
Call yourself blessed, if this disease you do not have.
Please do not laugh at these unfortunate blokes.
See that they get the help they need~
Stop kvetching over second hand smoke.
Alcoholics come in all shapes and sizes.
Attorneys, doctors, Hollywood, too.
Love needed urgently, not arrogant and unforgiving surmises!
Panagiota Romios
4/3/2019
Music is my high,
Soda is my drink.
Sugar is my ecstacy,
Laughter is my drunkeness.
Anime is my anti-drug,
Strobe lighting is my LSD.
Dreaming is my hallucinogen.
Imagination is as psychedelic as I can get.
Being with family is when I'm as relieved as I can get.
Happiness is as sober as I can get.
Masturbation is as stimulated as I can get.
Orgasming is when I am as relaxed as I can get.
Poetry is my coping mechanism,
Art is my creative outlet.
Writing is my addiction,
Reading is my inhalation.
Exercise is my steroid,
Food is my shrooms,
Cooking is my sniff.
Gaming is as tripped out as I can get.
Being with friends is when I'm as hyped as I can get.
Depression is as down as I can get.
Inner strength is as strong as I can be addicted.
Internet browsing is as stoned as I can get.
Dancing is my adrenaline,
Overtiredness is my hangover.
Cake mix is my acid,
Sparkling juice is my booze.
Soberity is my perspective,
Shopping is my drug-dealing.
Healthy as can be, drugs not for me.
I start my day with the rising sun,
Got a lot of work before the day is done,
Back breaking and mind racing again,
I may stumble every now and then,
Tossed in the air with no direction,
Caught in the hand of Mercy with no protection,
Smacked back down and my shells' shattering,
Pick up the pieces while I'm drowning in them,
Glue them back with silence and pain
That's just me in the eye of a hurricane.
All these words in my head, only static when I speak,
I'm cracked like an egg, if you want to catch a peek,
Take your look inside, Wanna go for a ride?
Let's take a leap and go really deep,
Be wary of the things you find,
Grab your drink, weed and shrooms,
This is the ride of the undying bloom,
Enough of the gloom, bring on the hype,
Don't stop now cause you're seeing the light,
Keep on going through the dead of night,
Where Demons fly and Chaos reigns,
This is my mind as a hurricane.
These voices pulling me left and right,
Trying to tear my soul just to hear it cry,
Only to be met with screams and laughter,
Hidden are the fires of pleasure doused in the misery of pain,
Burning bright are the pillars of calamity,
Casting shadows down on all insanities,
Ripped away are friends and family replaced with insecurities,
Fighting on and on till the battle wanes,
This is my soul as a hurricane.
I'm keeping my feet on the ground, my head in the sky,
Fighting day and night, one step at a time,
Holding my ground as the wind whips by,
Keep my calm or let the storm rage,
Just dog ear and turn the page,
Let the sun set on this day, the moon rise on this night,
I got no fear for the day I die, All I can do is today,
And take yesterday's pain, make it tomorrows' gain,
When I'm living life in the eye of a hurricane.
There was a Time in my life where I tried to undermine
The lies in my mind
Time being spent tryna justify
Asking myself who’s this guy
Time to get rid of the disguise
Now I’m left with this persona
Who lost his sense of self due to corona
Isolated but not at home
Doing shrooms dropping acid
Went from being avid
To my ego collapsin
So when they ask if I been slipping
Yeah I have been
Forced to fight the feeling
Born to write words that cause healing
So I picked up the pen
Becoming an addict
To be a man amongst men
Puttin my heart and pride on these sheets of paper
I’m finna Break the stereotype and become a different type of landscaper
One who cuts and trims the letters to fit better
On this piece of paper
That I call a love letter
Shedang, huntress of the forest, it is said that her arrows are true.
A protector of deer, squirrels, and other wildlife; her quiver will do.
Is she an entity or someone created by the wildlife of the trees?
I wonder as I walk through the forest, accompanied by a soft breeze.
Is it true she can leap from branch to branch, from elm to oak?
I have heard so much about her from the Germanic folk.
She maims the hunters, rarely kills them, the storytellers say.
I have heard this story since I was a child from those who were gray.
She is bewitched, some say. She can hear you coming from the lake.
I listened to these stories, and my knees began to jive and quake.
She sounded dangerous to me, it made me want to never hunt.
My grandpa kept inviting me, but I got a ball and asked him to punt.
Watch out for Shedang, they warned, don’t even step on the ‘shrooms.
She could easily fly out of a tree, and get you with arrows that zoom.
I saw her sitting way up high in a maple polishing arrows last spring.
Averted my eyes, and went back down the trail, without hurting a thing.
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
Weren’t they old belly dancers? Asked my crass cousin.
They are cheap too, cheaper than a baker’s dozen.
I did not like the way she spoke of the queens of the shrooms.
I had encouraged them to move, coaxing them to balloon.
They are a bit hefty, right? A mean old guy guessed.
They are fancy women, and very suitably well-dressed.
Aren’t they kind of long-in-the-teeth asked my cousin Keith.
What is wrong with these people? I yelled “Good grief!”
Let’s give them a chance, they are a mighty three.
They are different than others, which seems great to me.
They have stories to tell, original songs, dances and plays.
Can we please give them a chance? I asked my cousin Maize.
Hear the clip-clop of iambic beats
Sounds like Shelley with a side of Keats
Is that the scritchity-scratch of a goose quill flickin’
Or just the tippity-tap of some mouse you clickin’..?
So you a prophet poet, regular Marley meets Dylan
Writin’ about oppression and unjust killin’
Shootin' the Sheriff with a Reggae song
Inspirin' your generation with a sing along
A shot of tequila with a wedge of lime
Saddle up and bide your time
Every line don’t need to rhyme
I can give you a million examples
You don't seem like the lyrical type
Kickin' cold turkey with oranges ripe
That's the fruit that rhymes with nothin’
Fresh squeezed it's good for somethin’
Citric flashback, Tang for the brain
Hyperspace wormholes one cannot explain
Sun dippin' below the rim of a rhymeless plateau
Cow skull and cactus, a timeless tableau
In the twilight gloom, a weather-beaten sign
Free Verse Ranch is the place to dine
Gorge on rhyme-free wordplay victuals
Linguistic linguini and cage-free visuals
Specialty of the house: lemon chicken couplet
With a side of mashed onomatopotatoes--plop!
Gravy sloppin’ down slopes like molten lava
Washed down with mugs of fresh-brewed java
Buzzards circlin' the sky in a lazy ellipse
Moon moseyin' in for a total eclipse
Flee in the dark, take a steed for a ride
Jump the split rail fence to the other side
Leap back in time to a buzzin' hive
Looks like the vortex, circa 1995
Can barely think amid the din
Perfect time for the ‘shrooms to kick in
Tie-dyed girl where I left her spinnin' in place
Band still playin' a trippy Drums n Space
But how strange that I cannot feel my face
How did twenty years vanish without a trace?
Tumbleweed twirlin' down the rutted street
Empty rocking chair swayin' skee-reet skee-reet
'Taters still steamin' like a mini-volcano
Room reeks of whiskey stronger than Drano
Spilled orange juice tricklin' a fly-food slurry
Someone cleared outta Free Verse Ranch in a helluva hurry
The clip-clop of iambic beats, Sheriff on my tail
He wouldn't shoot an unrhymed man, would he?
Illumination Elf has no idea about his gift
He knows he has a talent, right? Askes Rift.
I think so, but it is hidden right now.
It’s going to be something though, a great big wow.
Illumination Elf found his gift accidentally.
When he was left overnight beside an old oak tree.
The dark was scary, and he said I wonder if….
A light came from inside him, suddenly and swift.
He is a lightbringer! The forest said, in awe.
One of the best whom they had ever saw.
His light uplifted the shrooms and the moss.
Positiviity and joy appeared in the form of a cross.
A lightbringer! I am thrilled! The Elf did say.
He had not dared to dream of it, at end of day.
But here he was, providing light to the wood.
Doing the best he could, the best he could.