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Mushroom Poems
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Magical Trip
By Sofia Rocha
I went on this magical trip..
Out of reality, in a fantasy world,
Everything seemed to be so peaceful and perfect!
All harmony.. no hate..
Laughing and laughing, like a kid being tickled..
no matter what happened, no matter what I did,
it seemed like it was never gonna to stop..
Things gained true life, Bright colours..
People walked differently, like robots..
and then smoothly like clouds where beneath them..
Trees and clouds gained funny shapes and movements,
like dancing smoothly with the wind..
Everything was amazing and beautiful,
even small details we never notice in real life..
I felt like Alice in Wonderland!
I could hear every single sound around me!
Every conversation, every whisper,
comments about my astonished expressions admiring everything around me as if I'd
never seen it before..
people laughing, people simply breathing,
shoes touching the ground,
birds singing, birds' wings flapping,
planes flying but still far far away..
sounds I had never heard before..
and it was all right there, so close, behind my ear..
It was amazing, although scary at first...
Fantasy or reality!??
My mind was confused....
It was like a dream!
I was sliding across the city,
Nothing could worry me.
But realized I always had to be aware of everything around me,
Cause it could all be so suspicious..
People would stare at me,
They couldn’t understand..
They looked kind of weird,
And so cold, sad and angry....
Their faces would constantly be changing,
gaining different shapes and forms and expressions and sizes..
It went on and on..
5hours had passed and I didn't even realize it..
Suddenly I snapped out of it,
just like there was a silent click,
When I was least expecting it..
I realized I was back to reality,
A different world,
Everything had disappeared..
What a disappointment.....
I soon realized I got to see the raw truth of reality,
but from a different point of view,
of contrasts and with no metaphors nor euphemisms..
What a Magical Trip!!!
By: Triprollapenguin
TriPPeR's PaRaDiSe
Colored Caps, White clouds, and Green Pastures,
stand still and the world still spins faster.
In a life where nature is our pastor,
Peaceful living and no more disasters.
No more wasted time spent in the Middle East,
this is the time and place to expand our inner peace.
Nothing but calm and stimulated minds,
talking sweet trips back in time,
vision granted to the blind.
Nothing but, never-ending journeys to ponda'
Reaching the highest states of Nirvana,
lessons taught no longer'
filled with the wisdom of 1000 wise men,
never having to suffer the loss of another victim.
fellowship of friends, all in the land are your family
centuries of enemies would gladly give their life for thee.
Butterflies without wings would be our greatest tragedy,
come stand beside me,
brethren of the cybe.
seeing all the waves of a rhythm,
finally benefiting from the gifts we were given.
Because identical are the seats that we sit in,
everyone the Ghandi of their time, view the peace within them.
Everyone dealt the same hand,
and every man overboard reaches dry land.
We'd all grow wings and fly through the sky,
maybe get to heaven someday if we tried,
Impossible for a description to ever break the ice,
but all is possible in a "Tripper's Paradise".
-
Food For Thought
by: Matt Imbordino
Here lies a carcass on the forest floor. The microcosm of life born on
death and death resulting from life. The sprouting from germination of the
seedling in fertile soil, slowly growing roots down into the earth and
vegetation arising. Living “life” off nutrients, consisting of decomposed
matter ”death”.
Over the plant’s life span it beds on only one portion of carcass, using
up resources surrounding its roots and it eventually dies and decomposes, making
new nutrients for another life. When this cycle has rotated one whole turn, the
specific soil is left “almost” as fertile as it was for its last seedling.
Leaving the cycle impossible to prevail over time.
Mother Earth is then in need of a fertility redeemer so that she can give
birth again. “The Father”, the divine, senses her yearning and delivers to
her. Earth then gives birth and a mushroom is born, growing from an egg shape
to a penis form. Now redemption may occur.
Fungus is hatched, growing on the parts of the forest that lacked
fertility. The mushroom “or penis” springs to an erection and at full size
releases its spores “or semen”. The mushroom completes its job, falls limp, and
is swallowed by Mother Earth.
From the death of the Mushroom come the extra nutrients needed to replenish
the soil and complete the cycle. Allowing new life to grow with the same amount
of resources as the last life lived.
Alleluia Praise God!
MOTHER NATURES MAGIC.
BY
BIG TIRED CAMOKOTA
MOTHER NATURES MAGIC, WHATEVER CAN THAT BE.
WONDERING TO MYSELF, HOW A COW PILE,
DROPS MY DADDY TO HIS KNEES.
I ASKED MY FATHER QUESTIONS, HE GAVE ME NO REPLIES,
YET DEEP DOWN INSIDE ME, I KNEW HE HAD SOMETHING TO HIDE.
SO ONE TIME WHEN THE DARKNESS, HAD COME TO AROUND THREE.
I SNUCK OUT OF MY BEDROOM, A COW PILE FOR TO SEE.
I FOLLOWED MY FATHERS FOOTPRINTS, TRACKING EACH STEEP HE TOOK,
WHEN I FINALLY CAUGHT HIM, HE GAVE ME SUCH A LOOK.
AT FIRST I WAS FRIGHTENED, AS FEAR APPEARED ON HIS FACE.
THEN I WAS VERY PUZZLED, AS LAUGHTER FROM HIS VOICE RACED.
THE NEXT WORDS THAT HE SPOKE TO ME, COME HERE BOY HAVE A TASTE.
AS I DID APPROACH HIM, HIS LAUGHTER TURNED TO TEARS.
AT FIRST I WAS HESITANT, YET TO HIM I DID GO, LONGING FOR THE MYSTERY.
MOTHER NATURES MAGIC WOULD NOW UNFOLD.
DO NOT GET SCARED FROM THE IMAGES, YOU ARE SOON TO SEE.
NOTHING IS AROUND YOU, NOTHING FOR TO FEAR.
SHOULD YOU START TO PANIC, REMEMBER I AM NEAR.
NOW WHEN THESE WORDS WERE SPOKEN, MY BROW DID FURL DOWN.
I WONDERED WHAT HE MEANT, THE IMAGES I WOULD SEE.
I DID NOT UNDERSTAND, WHAT HE WOULD GIVE TO ME.
TRUSTING IN MY FATHER, I REACHED OUT A HAND YOU SEE,
HE PLACED SOMETHING IN IT, SQUISHY IT WAS TO ME.
SOFTER THAN MY DOG DUKE’S FUR, WHAT EVER COULD IT BE,
UNDERNEATH A BRIGHT MOONLIGHT I LOOKED DOWN FOR TO SEE,
WHAT WAS MOTHER NATURES MAGIC, MY FATHER JUST GAVE TO ME.
BUT FATHER, THESE ARE JUST MUSHROOMS.
THOSE WORDS I SAID TO HIM.
YES MY SON THEY ARE, WITH MAGIC IN THERE CAP AND STEAM.
NOW TAKE THE ONE’S I GAVE YOU, EAT THEM STRAIGHT ON DOWN,
REMEMBERING ON THIS ONE NIGHT,
I WILL ALWAYS BE AROUND.
NOW, IT IS DAYLIGHT, THE DARKNESS IT HAS PAST.
I STILL SIT UNDER MY FATHER'S TREE, THINKING OF THE NIGHT.
MOTHER NATURES MAGIC, HOW FRIGHTENING WERE THE SIGHTS.
JOYFUL WAS THE FEELING, GREAT CALM IT GIVES YOU SEE,
SO HOME I MUST HEAD, TO SHAKE MY FATHERS HAND.
TO SAY HOW MUCH I THANK HIM.
FOR WHAT HE GAVE TO ME.
NOW WHEN I STOOD UP, UNDERNEATH MY FATHERS TREE.
I FOUND A PIECE OF PAPER, TIED TO A LIMB CLOSE TO ME.
I OPENED UP THE PAPER, THESE ARE WORDS I READ.
YOU DO NOT HAVE TO COME HOME MY BOY,
NO CHORES FOR YOU WILL THERE BE.
TODAY I WILL DO THEM, NO WORRIES SHOULD YOU SEE.
REACH INTO YOUR POCKET, YOU NOW KNOW WHAT TO DO.
FEELING IN MY POCKET, I FOUND FOUR BEAUTIFUL MAGIC SHROOMS
THE TREES THEY ARE NOW BENDING, I SEE SUCH DAYTIME FRIGHT.
EVERY IMAGE THAT I SEE, BRINGS JOY AND DELIGHT.
NOW PEACE OF MIND COMES TO ME, A CALM NEVER KNOWN.
REALITY IS SO DIFFERENT BUT NOW I MUST GO HOME.
THESE LAST WORDS, I NOW WRIGHT, ARE VERY SPECIAL TO ME.
WORDS OF THANKS TOWARD TWO GOOD FRIENDS,
APPRECIATIONS TOWARD THEM I BRING.
THERE NAMES CAN'T BE MENTIONED.
THEY KNOW OF WHOM THEY BE.
ONE IS REALLY GREAT WITH CARS,
HE WORKS ON THEM FOR ME.
THE OTHER ONE, YOU ALL KNOW,
WHEN ON THIS SITE YOU BE.
SO REMEMBER THESE LAST WORDS,
I NOW WRIGHT FOR THEE.
LEGAL DISCLAIMER!
The Wild Mushroom
Gary Snider
Well the sunset rays are shining
Me and Kai have got our tools
A basket and a trowel
And a book with all the rules
Don't ever eat Boletus
If the tube-mouth they are red
Stay away from the Amanitas
Or brother you are dead
Sometimes they're already rotten
Or the stalks are broken off
Where the deer have knocked them over
While turning up the duff
We set out in the forest
To seek the wild mushroom
In shapes diverse and colorful
Shining through the woodland gloom
If you look out under oak trees
Or around an old pine stump
You'll know a mushroom's coming
By the way the leaves are humped
They send out multiple fibers
Through the roots and sod
Some make you mighty sick they say
Or bring you close to God
So here's to the mushroom family
A far-flung friendly clan
For food, for fun, for poison
They are a help to man.
Puff Balls
Ciao, Gina
In my youth, am sliding into 60, I rode a horse through trails between
Massachusetts and New Hampshire, weekly for 7 years. Puff balls were at the
foot of the trees, everywhere. Perhaps nestled between the roots amid light
pine needles. We had to dismount every once in a while, and there were always
puffballs to puff.<G> Of course, there were pink Lady's Slippers then too..
New England woods. Mixed pine and hard and soft woods.
Not Mushroom
Fantasy Poems
Picture a gnome with its philosophical, sedentary way of going about life. Sitting on a mushroom all day. They sit there all day lines dangling in the stream. One catch a week is all they require it would seem. Small fish of course, the larger ones they have to set free. They can't waste the energy so they let the larger ones be.
Pixies, hyper and pushy occupy the opposite niche. Few fish can defy
the fury they unleash. They charge into the water and fight for the fish
that they fancy tonight. The smaller fish they ignore by default,
supplying less energy than used in the assault.
It is a good day for one gnome as it winds in its reel on the other end of the line is a fish, a week lasting meal. Another though, with no bite for a week, keels over and dies. Its only role now is to provide a meal for the worms and the flies.
One pack of pixies has captured a prize landing a fish that's ten times their size. Another though chooses the wrong shoal. The luckless ones drown. The rest swallowed whole.
For one life is something that happens along.
One, life happens, blink and it's gone.
Either way, life goes on.
UNDER THE MUSHROOM CLOUD
by Joseph D. Greenwood
And so the juggernauts roared
As the firebirds soared
And the soldiers howled
While the politicians pleased the crowd
And the children screamed
As the bullets streamed
And the buildings crumbled to the ground
As the bombs rained down
Pounding, pounding
Like a heartbeat
Came the waves of heat
People burning in the streets
Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers
We held on
Until the final bomb
And now we are all gone
Nothing else around
Only ashes on the ground
Is this to be our destiny
To leave behind no legacy
Only a fading memory
POEMS OFF THE BEATEN PATH...
MARIJUANA
BY
BIG TIRED, CAMOKOTA
MARIJUANA, HEMP, GRASS, WEED, AS WELL IT IS KNOWN
BY OTHER NAMES INDEED.
USUALLY, IT IS PLANTED IN THE SPRING UPON ONES KNEES.
BUT HOW DO THESE HUGH BUDS GROW,
FROM SUCH A TINY LITTLE SEED.
WHEN PLANTED, IT IS CARED FOR NOT OUT OF MALICIOUSNESS OR GREED.
BUT OUT OF TENDER LOVING CARE, TOWARD THE GIFT TO MAN,
GOD DID BRING.
WE LISTEN TO OTHER PEOPLE, WHO HAVE SUCH CARELESS THOUGHTS,
UPON IGNORANCE AND STUPIDITY, WITH ONLY ONE BRAIN CELL FOR THOUGHT.
THESE PEOPLE, LISTENING TO THE GOVERNMENT, THERE LIES THEY BELIEVE.
BUT NOT OUT OF CARING, ARE THERE LAWS AGAINST THIS SEED.
SO WHEN THE COPTERS FLY LOW, HIDE YOUR PLANTS AMONGST WEEDS.
OR THEY WILL DISAPPEAR, ALL FOR THE GOVERNMENTS GREED.
JUDGES AND ATTORNEYS, LOVE LAWS AGAINST THIS SEED, FOR ITS ILLEGALIZATION TO
THEM, STEAK AND LOBSTER IT WILL FEED.
THEY CONTINUE TO PERSECUTE IT, FOR MONEY OUT GREED, CARING NOT TO
THE FAMILIES THE PAIN AND SUFFERING THEY BRING.
YES, GOD CREATED, ALL THINGS IN HEAVEN AND ON EARTH.
AND MADE A SPECIAL PLACE CALLED HELL,
FOR POLICE, ATTORNEYS AND JUDGES
WITHOUT WORTH.
FOR GODS WILL IS DEVINE, HOW DARE THESE PEOPLE SAY SUCH THINGS.
AGAINST THIS WONDERFUL PLANT, AND THE HEALING PLEASURES,
IT CAN BRING.
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