Quotes about plop, page 4
“food Of The Gods”
McKenna said; “They are the food of the gods”
“Has been so for 10,000 years, more or less
Consumed by shamans and a few demigods,
‘Til Laws made psilocybin illegal to possess”
It’s hard to profit from things we need not buy
For shrooms can be found growing in the wild
Alas, Feds cannot tax what grows in a cow pie!
For such a foul beginning...
It’s a wonder these unlikely fungi aren’t reviled
Some day, if you should stumble upon shrooms
Remember;
“The road to hell is paved with good intentions”
A “Good trip” can never be assumed,
You could fall short of unrealistic expectations
Mother Earth in her wisdom saw it fit,
To propagate her treasure in a plop of shit
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poem by Ray Lucero
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Skids Into A Fizz
The budget?
The budget as it is,
Has skidded into a fizz.
No one chooses to say 'flop'...
Hoping that a plot is schemed,
To return smiling and gleaming grins again...
To those so close to giving up.
The budget?
The budget as it is,
Has skidded into a fizz.
With a 'don't-plop-me-down-now-thud'!
And added fuss and frustration.
The budget?
We monthy cuss that budget.
That budget...
Has us all caught up in corruptness.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unisex Alco Metaphor
I ain’t no alco you know
I just sometimes take a drink
A drink a drink for a big think
‘Cause I’ve got no G G for a horse
Like
I ain’t no vice president
But the vice presides in me
Don’t worry I’m a nice also metaphor
‘Cause I can stop before I ‘plop’
Into saying something quite smart
Such as
Tequila lemon salt
Guerilla demons halt
Or something quite unique
Such as..er
We’re all those things we aren’t
And not always those things we are
Which is
Quite unisex I think
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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Flippity Floppity Plop
am sitting by the side of a pond,
the fresh morning crisp,
full of new born oxygen,
waiting to meet my lungs
am sitting watching still waters,
the liquid surface glassy,
thin like gossamer,
unbroken by bulbous eyed frogs
am sitting inhaling the silken fog,
the moist sweetness enlivening
wispy blanket around,
wrapping me in my thoughts
am sitting listening to birds,
deep distant sounds,
some quarreling, others singing,
my eardrums playing along
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poem by Prathap Suthan
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Tribute To SudhaChandran
The molten gold drips from the sun
The silver drops plop from the moon
The yonder sparkles twinkle down
Compiled to make a face...
The gentle breeze of the fragrant flowers
The smelly soil of the monsoon drizzles
The symphony of the harmonic rains
Compounded to make a body-grace...
She is the ripples of the morn
Draped with the rain-bow yarn
Flowy and floody, up and down
The river and its run...
Swiftly bounces and crawls, walks and swirls
Her resilient plies, single foot and a prosthesis
The tenacity of the danseuse
'Losing a foot walking a mile' in praises
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poem by Indira Renganathan
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Music of the porcupine musician
I wanted so much
to stroke his face
that he can see
how the music of the day
sparkle in freshwater
and as the notes
splash and plop
it would contain
the best melodies
but would I
be able to
do that now
that his words
are godless here
scorning lemonade
on trays
organ and accordion
he rattles
and rises
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poem by Elna Nel
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September in my Mind
The smell of September fills the air
and dredges up memories once captured there.
The nip of daybreak, the moist, morning smell,
spurns forth memories from dormant dwell.
Frost capping the scape like fine sugar coat
ensures us of what time's compelled to denote.
Preserves boil away on the top of the stove,
plop, plopping with the riches retrieved from the grove.
The smell of apricot, cherry and pear,
sweet orange marmalade wafting the air,
thoughts of log fires and holiday cheer,
long awaited for a calendar year,
fills my soul and elicits thoughts tucked in my mind
as it wanders me back to a space in time.
As welcome as spring was, this changing of leaves
recounting to us what each one believes.
We rely on September filling the air to
remind every soul of what once lived there.
poem by Christine K. Trease
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Thoughtdropper
Your drift is Mister Thoughtdropper...
Is to plop a thinking process,
Inside my head!
While agitating with some pepper,
When I prefer the salt instead.
But you're clever adding spice Thoughtdropper.
To stop that over topping knocking pop.
My flow is known to be too heated.
And these thoughts are mine to dropp nonstop.
With a rocking to do I know I've got...
Heat or not and mine to drop.
I've got your drift Thoughtdropper,
Trying to groove on my rock.
Don't try to knock me with a stopping,
'Cause my heat is hot.
I've got your drift Thoughtdropper,
Trying to groove on my rock.
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Squirt a Little Seltzer
When life gets too serious
When the fun seems to have flown
When mystery’s no longer mysterious
When the daily grind has ground to the bone
Just….
Sing a little song
Dance a little dance
Squirt a little seltzer
Down your pants
And if there’s no light
At the end of the tunnel
If you feel squeezed e’er so tight
As if poured through the end of a funnel
Just…
Stick a big red ball on the end of your nose
Paint a big red smile to the tip of your eye
Stand on one foot and strike a ridiculous pose
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poem by David Whalen
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Onomatopoeic
Don't you just love Onomatopoeic words
ones like Crash, Bang, Wallop, and Zoom?
in Batman and Robin you saw them a lot
across the screen would shoot POW, ZAP, KABOOM!
In horror movies you'd hear a thunder Crack
and things that Creak, and go Bump in the night,
noises going Click, Clunk, and Clank,
your heart Thumps as your having a fright.
Snakes Hiss, birds Tweet, Cows Moo,
Cats Purr, Pigs Oink, and Ducks Quack,
Owls Hoot, while the Sheep just Baah,
but if a dog Growls beware it could attack.
Your cereal goes Snap, Crackle, and Pop,
in the frying pan the bacon does Sizzle,
but you've answered a Tap and Knock at the door
when you return your rashers are burnt to a Frizzle.
Yes it's a strange word is Onomatopoeic
but for poetry it doesn't really matter
because you can use words like Zing, Ping, Splat,
Plunk, Plop, Swoosh, Squelch, Splutter and Clatter!
poem by Kevin Halls
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