#popcorn
A little coffee
And a whole lot of popcorn
Makes homework better.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 6:29 PM UTC
Golden brown,
she leaps through the air.
spinning and twirling
flipping and dancing
in and out of time
- no conductor could control her!
then,
gracefully,
to a soft landing.
Settling to wait
with the rest.
The popcorn pops.
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 6:44 AM UTC
The bag exhales its emptiness.
It has run out of things to give,
only a few husks.
I prop my hand under my chin.
My darling puts her kit on the table
and strings the kernels through.
There were all shades of yellow #5.
America's #1 Finest!
She puts them round her neck,
glistening in tv-light,
that nacreous shell of a necklace.
The white noise plays on.
They start to burst, each one of them,
into a different kind of flower—
daffodils, dandelions, daisies—
it was quite a piece.
My hands are so close now, trembling,
and I am hungry.
The white noise plays on.
Quickly I ****** at them, ****** into her,
And my hand comes out empty,
only a few husks.
The petals scatter slowly around us.
The bright, yellow sun is crashing,
And so, too, does that crumpled bag
Into the trash, above which hung
My heavy heart, my sweet
And her finest around her neck.
I prop my hand under my chin again.
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
I've always wanted
To write a poem about it
Because, just because.
I don't know why, but I guess
I really like it.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 4:29 PM UTC
Last day of my week
I feel lucky—I'll be free
And party tonight.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 12:47 PM UTC
I wish my love is your first breath
of crisp, fresh air;
the first glimmer of sunlight,
lining the horizons of dawn,
as the lights of the Ferris wheel burn out;
your lips stained with nostalgia,
kissed with the cherry tint of candy floss;
the smell of clean fabric against your skin--
I wish I am--
fragranced with the scent of popcorn--
after the carnival.
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 12:26 PM UTC
Out of sight out of mind,
A saying that seems to be underrated,
Thought mostly about objects of disgust or stress,
And since I've objected to being anything more than an object,
This categories fits my life,
Even when acting like a faulty car part; the check engine light remains being of little concern,
"I'll just drive till it dies"
It's just the cost isn't worth it,
with all the time we spend in it,
Eventually the light turns off,
No rhyme or reason just the decision to love unconditionally...
Or the
The car dies used
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 9:12 AM UTC
My body steeps in this hot sarcophagus,
Coated in fake butter topping.
I watch trollops quaffing hoppy-scotch,
Flipping wristwatches for moves to jump rope two-and-two.
Like when I was 10, and I saw this ***** white trash can of a man,
Fly out of a grocery store with a 40oz like he was Peter Pan.
But I knew deep down, in my swashbuckling soul of souls,
That Peter Pan got Wendy by being a gentleman.
So this fever, that has my mobile phone not shaking in my pocket,
I keep staring at every five seconds for you to call.
Is just another moment in my life to cherish, because if we should be married, And I want to talk. I'll just need to walk down the hall.
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
white fluff
but crunchy
plain taste that
is somehow
fulfilling
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
P-oping
O-rdinary
P-erfect
C-runchy
O-ut of this world
R-really yummy
N-ever out of style
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 4:46 PM UTC
I am standing in liquid
It is burning my feet
This space is crowded
But there is still some space to breath
The heat is rising
Creating a forever-thickening wall
My body is shaking
It is burning
My stomach’s hurting
Splitting open like a flower
Reducing me to a lifeless
Cloud-formed corpse
With the simple sound of summer rain
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 4:44 AM UTC
so what do we do when all is left are figurines
gifted in the unholiest of manners
and the crusties in my eye when i awake
are no longer their
since sleep is a distant memory
and all the tides of highs and lows
simmer to a stagnant plateau
because days no longer carry weight
surmounting to popcorn on a string
--one just like the last--
suddenly a day
--popcorn with extra butter and just a pinch of salt--
comes and shakes the bland you into something recognizable
a sparkly-eyed realist with an unusually magnetic personality
drawn from absolutely nothing
but the reality that life goes on
and we just have to be aware of peoples polarity
s.q.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
What if your brain
was just a small packet of popcorn
that desperately needed
a microwave.
What if it refuses
to operate
until you show it some love-
Let it open itself up.
What if all it wanted was
to feel a little more lightweight-
'pop' away the pressure of being
confined to a head-cage.
What if our brains
Were just raw popcorn pieces
That needed some heating
To melt away the pain.
Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 2:59 PM UTC
Never the popcorn
for a story untold,
little victories alone
that never unfold.
Never any applause
for a story unheard,
all the joys of day
and yet not a word.
Never saccharine sweet
the story unshared,
so chatter aloud
and let no one be spared.
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 5:49 PM UTC
just like popcorn -
those soft, incredible clouds
appearing from what
once was
solid,
golden,
rock -
my thoughts are formed.
out of nowhere,
another pops into my mind,
joining it's fellow corns,
only to later
be consumed,
rearranged,
and discarded
by people who
*aren't
even
me.*
- v.m
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 2:09 PM UTC
I couldn’t sleep. I was lying in bed watching the patterns reflected moonlight made on my ceiling when I heard the faint beep of the kitchen microwave. I smelled popcorn.
I decided to fill up my water bottle and see who was up. I slipped on a thick, terrycloth robe I’d gotten from Lisa last Christmas. It must weigh 15 pounds and it’s so warm and heavy I seldom wear it.
I silently glided into the main room. Leong was standing at one of our two large picture windows staring out at the night. Her left arm cradling a bowl of ultimate-butter popcorn. Anna told me last night that Leong and her long-time boyfriend, who’s back in China, had broken up. They’d been together forever and had been expected to marry.
A bright half-moon was hanging high over campus, an electric ornament on a velvet background, its moonlight glint painted the world, like ice on mountaintops.
“I heard about your breakup,” I said, “what does it mean?” In Leong’s world, who you dated was of family interest. That person had to be approved, their bona fides proven - they had to fit into some long term plan.
“It means I can’t be tamed,” she said, with soft bravado. After a moment, she spoke again, more seriously. “It’s better this way - for now - someday..,” she trailed off.
I understood. All of our hopes are resting on someday, like so many wagers at a casino. I imagined some gambler, stepping up to a betting window, in an old black-and-white movie, saying, ”Gimmie 5 bucks on Someday to win.”
Something in her voice, a brittleness, precluded further questions. I looked at the clock, it read 3:47. I gave her a hug and yawning, filled up my water bottle from the refrigerator's filtered tap.
“See ya.” I whispered and headed off, back to bed. With any luck I could squeeze another hour's sleep out of the morning.
Feb 3, 2022
Feb 3, 2022 at 5:04 AM UTC
Cheese should have four e's
Bacon should be spelled bakin'
And popcorn...it's fine.
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 6:28 PM UTC
Stars are actually snowballs, constantly being thrown at each other by the playful children
that are the Old Gods.
Planets are ornaments
that adorn the Christmas tree
in the center of the Solar System.
One of them has a floral pattern,
one of them has the British flag on it,
and one of them, I think, is half-shattered, only held together
by the holy adhesive that is tape.
The meteors are popcorn garlands,
that we popped the other night.
Now they're stale and flavorless,
so we decided
to decorate space
with them.
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 8:51 AM UTC
Ready to explode
Wait a minute, don’t leave me
Things will get butter
Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 1:15 AM UTC
In the beginning the sky was cold butter,
hard and riddled with kernels of corn,
which, as the world heated, popped:
And thus the clouds were born.
Sep 8, 2020
Sep 8, 2020 at 11:20 AM UTC
trapped beneath a fitted rubber sheet
a lump in the mattress
suffocating on
rancid latex sweat
and yesterday's dried fluids
who were they
the nameless in the dark
this one smelled of popcorn
that on howled in delight
a collage of senseless noise
scented by cats and Ajax
leftovers always go bad
Chuck-will's-widow
in the tree by the window
it must be after midnight
though noon looks the same
in this cage that gives just enough
to torture with possibilities
of breaking free
freedom is overrated
roses stain glass
with the bloodletting
of thorny mishaps
blurred by smeared wounds
ain't life grand
when love ceases to be a goal
how can one find what is
utterly indefinable
if it cannot be decisively named
it cannot be concretely attained
then again, love's fluidity
is its charm
no hard edges
ebbing and flowing
elusive and longing
**** me latex blind
unseen and used
by those who never did mind
a lumpy mattress
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 4:10 PM UTC
My lifes a show
Filled with sorrow and danger
Its not a promising film
You'll hear them say
As the scenes
Play across the screen
I glance at the audience
The theatre is empty
Except for me
I reach down and stuff
A handful of popcorn
Into my mouth
Hoping that'll stop the sobs
Even though
Theres no one watching
Aug 8, 2020
Aug 8, 2020 at 11:44 AM UTC
My task is to write a reflection,
I ponder, what is worth my edification?
I shall reflect this day on---POPCORN!!!
Yes, Popcorn! Our pop culture it adorns,
Sweet caramel popcorn is digestive ****
or do you like salted treats,
Popcorn, Popcorn, salted or sweet?
Ah, decisions, decisions, decisions,
A dither of popcorn reflection........
Jan 1, 2017
Jan 1, 2017 at 7:13 PM UTC
when did you realize
our street was on fire
like sort of hanging over
smearing the hate
for themselves
for the rest of us
with spark head
moving forward
they don't go home
this is popcorn classic
movement of hands
muses getting some
mustered
darkness
covered in dust
warmth
the noise being made
over layers of humanity
eating itself
i don't know
i do not understand
i don't know how to
but i could try
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 5:15 PM UTC
Watching the sunrise as it inches up the horizon is like...
Waiting for the popcorn to pop
Watching your favorite movie with that special ending
Remembering your last great kiss and wanting it again
Gazing into your fire pit with nothing else on your mind
Seeing a close friend for the first time in years
Having the greatest news delivered to you
Opening your eyes on a hike to see the most amazing, new sights
Hitting a hole in one
Driving down a long boulevard and not hit one red light
The smoothest, glassest water, to water ski on
The freshest, dryest, deep, untracked powder to float in
*** The sunrise is all this and more!
Start you day with a
SUNRISE
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 9:39 AM UTC