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Rhythms Immaculate
He dances with the worms of mornings show
New sight he finds in blindness, a prophets wisdom knows.
Reborn within the tides, reborn within the flow.
Blessed with rhythms immaculate, watch…..
Watch as him dance the dance unending
Watch as he befriends the night, a mushroom for his pillow.
Taking his place, growing his roots upon the foothills of time
Through the labyrinth ever bending, find me and you’re mine.
poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If you wish to eat a mushroom, you cannot consider what the mushroom fed on.
Mushroom Festival In Hell
We're ween, it's 1991!
And we are here to play you music
Now this song is called "mushroom festival in hell".
The wind is howling and the time is right for fear
In the emergence in the phosphorescent tears
And all the hippies gonna lick the mind of god?
They've already been immersed in the wad
The wind is howling and the sea is boiling down
The mind is the water, the mind is the water
'cause it's a mushroom festival in hell
'cause it's a mushroom festival in hell
Yeah!
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Customer Complaint
‘There is something wrong with this mushroom! '
I heard a lady, on a nearby table, suddenly boom.
The lady was clearly upset by the whole ‘ordeal',
And, asked the young waitress for a duplicate meal.
Soon, from the kitchen, her new meal appeared,
But, by its appearance, she was far from cheered.
‘I guess, an idiot, is what you take me for?
It's the very same mushroom, I had before! '
That it was a different mushroom, she was assured,
But she was not convinced, so this now meant war.
By this time, the lady was getting really quite irate:
‘That is the same mushroom, on a different plate! '
‘I tell you, this here mushroom is quite inferior!
I demand that I be allowed to see your Superior!
Your explanation, with me, girl, will just not wash.
You're no use: I want you to bring me your boss.'
The Manager appeared, and listened to her complaint:
Luckily, for him, he possessed the patience of a Saint!
He stood there calmly, while she ranted and raved:
A trouble-free shift was what he desperately craved.
She seemed to have time to eat her meal before,
But, suddenly, she didn't have that time anymore!
‘I want a refund! ' she said. ‘And make it snappy! '
She now seemed in a rush, and very far from happy.
Of the show, the lady was most definitely the star,
But I think that she carried things just a little too far!
Tempers flared, nerves frayed, and feelings ran high:
And this was all over one tiny little specimen of fungi!
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Beastly the Bourgeois Is
How beastly the bourgeois is
especially the male of the species--
Presentable, eminently presentable--
shall I make you a present of him?
Isn't he handsome? Isn't he healthy? Isn't he a fine specimen?
Doesn't he look the fresh clean Englishman, outside?
Isn't it God's own image? tramping his thirty miles a day
after partridges, or a little rubber ball?
wouldn't you like to be like that, well off, and quite the
thing
Oh, but wait!
Let him meet a new emotion, let him be faced with another
man's need,
let him come home to a bit of moral difficulty, let life
face him with a new demand on his understanding
and then watch him go soggy, like a wet meringue.
Watch him turn into a mess, either a fool or a bully.
Just watch the display of him, confronted with a new
demand on his intelligence,
a new life-demand.
How beastly the bourgeois is
especially the male of the species--
Nicely groomed, like a mushroom
standing there so sleek and erect and eyeable--
and like a fungus, living on the remains of a bygone life
sucking his life out of the dead leaves of greater life
than his own.
And even so, he's stale, he's been there too long.
Touch him, and you'll find he's all gone inside
just like an old mushroom, all wormy inside, and hollow
under a smooth skin and an upright appearance.
Full of seething, wormy, hollow feelings
rather nasty--
How beastly the bourgeois is!
Standing in their thousands, these appearances, in damp
England
what a pity they can't all be kicked over
like sickening toadstools, and left to melt back, swiftly
into the soil of England.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Are Only Eyes Appearing Above The Surface
There are only eyes appearing above the surface
in the brown water of the river's pool
before they again disappear without a trace.
There are only eyes appearing above the surface
when it notices a prey, are covered by the water-curtain
where the crocodile hides in the depths of the river,
there are only eyes appearing above the surface
in the brown water of the river's pool.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Life Mission
A Mushroom
has no room
for thoughts
it has got
only moments to sort
no hours for thought
just split secon to rot
in the ageless life
when eternity speaks of strife
butterfly spents but a day
mushroom some watery way
some men are mushrooms
they have messages groomed
but live in hived rooms
in silence they come
and unwreathed they go
some like butterfly
flash across many hearts
with colours vibrant and spots
it flew into my garden
smelling with blossooms of Spring
and fluttered into my passions
caressing here, caressing there
the poets say............................
poem by Lalitha Iyer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mushrooms
I was with my girlfriend
This is [? ? ] florida
She took me to this place
It had al kind of things growing
She gave me something
It was a mushroom
She said eat it, she said.
A mushroom, what is that?
She said eat it.
I dont think she [? ? ]
Shes kind of a wild girl
I dont think she was that wild
So i, I ate the mushroom
And I said it doesnt taste like much
She said wait a minute
So I waited a minute
I waited a few minutes
- filter -
And the next thing I know, I was walking on clouds
There were beautiful clouds
And my girlfriend was talking to me
While I was walking on the clouds
And everything felt beautiful
I almost felt like I didnt have any feet,
No floor under me
It was beautiful
We looked in each other eyes.
On top of these clouds
And we were talking with each other
With our mouths wide open
And all of a sudden
She let me go
But I didnt fall,
I floated, but I was far away from her.
Until the next thing I know she wasnt there,
Knows by myself.
And I was on gras again
- begin of track 6 -
Very soft gras
I walked to the gras (4x)
song performed by by Faithless
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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~Ironie's Claim~
Irony now seeps,
growing amused as it smiles then weeps.
Leaves one searching for skies less blue,
a vision appearing then fading from view.
Your soul grasping what you don't seek
and counting the days by each week,
Blindly catch or watch the fall,
come to claim or leave it all.
3-20-06
poem by Sinnaminsun Sinnaminsun
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Which God Has Given
I am not living my life to run away from fear!
No!
I am living my life to face fear,
And obstacles appearing.
Yes!
I know that God is near...
To protect and watch,
My every move!
And I do not solicit faith.
Or attempt to create,
That which God has given!
I am here to testify it works.
And I am God's employee.
The Almighty...
Is my only Boss!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Watch Out
Watch your eyes
it may see reactions
Watch your reaction
it may enthuse emotions
Watch your emotion
it may compose thoughts
Watch your thought
it may become words
Watch your word
it may become a habit
Watch your habit
it may become character
Watch your character
it may become your identity
Finally, watch your identity
it may become your fate
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every Morning's Mourning.
Watch you sleep
Dream and roll over
avoid the monsters
and the light
Watch you sleep
Watch you sleep
when the noise
of fifteen
floors above you
crashes in
and wraps you deeper
in your sheets
Watch you sleep
Watch you sleep
through every squeak
and smash and ping
as I serenade you
with my awake
and my breakfast
Watch you sleep
Watch you sleep
with a half-turned
smile on your face
an exposed and naked leg
your hair escaping you
like spilling starlight
Watch you sleep
Watch you sleep
when I kiss
the tiniest sample
of skin on your cheek
and know you wake
when I'm gone
and am gone
until again you sleep
When you wake
Watch you wake
Watch you sleep
poem by Q.R. Gibson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Big Bright Dream
There is a glimpse of morn on the sky
Where dark clouds are floating high
So look to it and hope to see
A big bright dawn appearing for thee
For life is a mixture of joy and sorrow
Where appears dull and bright morrow
So don't sit back and think dear
That joy and pleasure are commodity rare
For everyone is given his share
Of both smile's joy or pain's tear
So don't feel bad and hope to see
A big bright dawn appearing for thee.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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Opening Ceremony
by Michael Murphey
She's always appearing with a band of renown,
You want to go and see her when you're feeling down,
She's a breathtaking spectacle with guaranteed hope,
She'll make you feel good 'cause she's the best thing since soap,
She'll greet you in the alley with a fortified smile,
She's the original sideshow and she's got her own style.
Pardon my baby, she got to have her fun,
Yes, I say, pardon my baby, she got to have her fun,
'Cause she's the Oklahoma backroom dancer, watch her run.
Now, she dances on air just like Superman's child,
Like a field of sheep grazing, she's wild but she's mild,
She's more fun than Colorado and more farout than Maine,
She comes on like thunder and she's more right than rain,
She's the mother of earth and the goddess of thirst,
She's the chicken and the egg and whichever came first.
Pardon my baby, she got to have a chance,
Oh, I say, pardon my baby, she got to have a chance,
'Cause she's the Oklahoma backroom dancer, watch her dance.
Whoo...
SOLO
Oh, my, somebody get the piano player a drink of water...
Yeah, I say pardon my baby, she got to have her fun,
Yeah, I say pardon my baby, she got to have her fun,
Yes, she's the Oklahoma backroom dancer, watch her run,
Whoo, my-my.
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oklahoma Backroom Dancer
By michael nesmith
Shes always appearing with a band of renown
You want to go and see her when youre feeling down
Shes a breathtaking spectacle, with guaranteed hope
Shell make you feel good, cause shes the best thing since soap
Shell greet you in the alley with a .45 smile [or fortified smile]
Shes the original sideshow and shes got her own style.
Pardon my baby, she got to have her fun
Yes, I say, pardon my baby, she got to have her fun
cause shes a oklahoma backroom dancer, watch her run.
Now, she dances on air just like supermans child
Like a [? ? ? ] shes wild but shes mild
Shes more fun than colorado, and more far-out than maine
She comes on like thunder and shes more right than rain
Shes the mother of earth, and the goddess of [? ? ? ]
Shes the chicken and the egg and whichever came first.
Pardon my baby, she got to have her chance
Oh, I say pardon my baby, she got to have her chance.
cause shes a oklahoma backroom dancer, watch her dance.
Yeah, I say pardon my baby, she got to have her fun
Yeah, I say pardon my baby, she got to have her fun
Yes, shes a oklahoma backroom dancer, watch her run.
Woooo! my, my!
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm just some lunatic macaroni mushroom, is that it?
quote by Joe Pesci
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I am... a mushroom; On whom the dew of heaven drops now and then.
Without stooping down for the mushroom, you cannot put it in your basket.