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Betty Aug 23
Poppies after rain
Waving scarlet petticoats
A garden can-can
Waving
Clive Blake Jul 9
Countless poppies now grow
Where men had once stood,
Or had peered from a dugout,
Or had hidden in a wood,
Where bullets had hailed and
Young lives were squandered,
As poisoned gas smothered
And big guns thundered,
Those in charge must have surely
Questioned and pondered.

Poppies grow in peace now,
Gunfire no longer heard,
Let this be the case forever
For PEACE - is the golden word.
Z Dec 2020
41
Already buckled in the backseat
I’d want to come to the grocery
And while you’d push the basket
I followed after so closely

We dug up weeds and planted poppies
Gold and vermillion
And I remember I felt my heart drop
When you said you can’t be friends with your children

I remember thinking
If you can’t accept me then how will I accept myself
you taught me everything
If you can’t accept me how will I accept myself?

And I’m not gonna get my confirmation
But I really want to make you proud
I know it’s not what you expected
It’s harder to say some things out loud

I didn’t get the chance to tell you
She told you before I could say a word
And then I didn’t want to talk about it
I ran away, I lost my nerve

You gave me all the space I wanted
That was four years ago
until it seemed like you’d forgotten
Until I moved to Chicago

And I was thinking
If you can’t accept me then how will I accept myself
You taught me everything  
If you can’t accept me how will I accept myself?

And I just want to feel accepted
But I really want to make you proud
I know I’m not what you expected
It’s harder to say some things out loud
Payal Dhiman Jul 2020
In the sea of poppies
she became a sinking boat
to be honest
like a painting on the canvas
it looked beautiful but for a while
and then everything
became sad.
The tragedy on the sea and the falling sun.
There once was a bundle of poppies
The brightness of their life
The flowers brought the children joy
The adults, some hope

For if something this beautiful
Striving in the darkest hour
In the good vase

Some flowers wilting
But some bursting with red
This gives them hope, and joy, and peace
Some forget, that though beautiful, the poppies are simply

Dead.
I've been writing a lot more recently, this is an older poem
Brian Johnson Jan 2020
Saw
I saw a computer chasing a pen as the follen artist cried tears of emptiness. I saw confusion ridiculed by reason as I saw a book watching TV. I saw my reflection in a field of poppies dancing blindly with a syringe, I saw promise held down by lies, hope strangled reality. I saw the homeless ridiculed by societies ignorance. I saw all my dreams injected into screaming viens who recoiled at truth.................. To be continued
This poem is probably too long to print on her.
Aiden J H Oct 2019
How dare I sulk
over dust which has
slipped between my fingers
when poppies are rattling
in damp air
when daises smile up
beaming at their sun
clover and grass gleam
green and iridescent;
the dust which I lost
panged me so to no
avail until today I saw
this was the food
for early June creation.
I wrote this on my Iphone 5 after a run last May. I ended up running through a field of poppies, daisies and other gorgeous little baby flowers whose names I don't know (but would love to get to know)..

I was feeling angsty and melancholic, still processing this situation I was in with this immature dude. I realized he wasn't really into me when I had invested so much emotion.  But who has time for moping around when the world is so vibrant and amazing ?  So, essentially this is about Gratitude and Getting Over It !
Aaron LaLux Sep 2019
Lost,
amongst the chaos, caught outside with a long way to go,
calm,
within the center, inside everything comes 360° full circle,

call it a circle but it’s more of a spiral,
careful don’t want to hurt you when I go ******,
but the truth is the first rule of nature is survival,
chaos outside crack pipes alight demoralized fools act suicidal,

see healing can help but it can also hurt you,
especially if you forget your virtues,

trust me you must be occasionally criticized passionately,
for acting out irrationally if not you’re not living your truth,
too caught up in your own closed captions to actually,
see passed the rose glasses that skews your worldview,

out past curfew brazenly making your way merrily,
down that yellow brick road until you stub your toe I told you,
healing can hurt you if you forget your virtues,
still you choose to refuse the truth shown in your own show,

okay your choice to choose now without further ado, the news,

this just in, we’re all caught in whirlpools,
drains all clogged with heirlooms,
energy vampires virgule our virtues,
as slashed wrist fill bathtubs, pills lay on pillows in bedrooms,

these cities are pretty venues for gritty citizen cesspools,
sporadic & magic with hearts as dark as our issues,
no Jim Henson only thuggish muppets wretched henchmen,
puzzled puppets & sketchy Skeksis from The Dark Crystal,

it’s a bizarre & awkward Little Shop of Horrors,
a smorgasbord of unordered  hors d’oeuvres served cold,
& you’re confused of course because you didn’t order more,
plus it smells horrible oh well it’s only the first course,

anyways what’s on the menu today,
in this Showroom AKA Stolen Souls Salesroom’s display,
****** Nephews that resist rescue,
plus a side of drunken Lethargic Legume pate,

in other words intoxicated obnoxious Obscene Family Beans,
that are nostalgic for forgotten things that’ve long gone away,

& what have you on menu #2,
Locobutt Coconuts, crazy nuts Loony Tunes that lack values,
in other words hardheaded tropical crazy assed loons,
animated guys that apply topical gravy acid to cashews,
excuse me, did I offend you is that why you gave your opinion,
well opinions are like ******* & I’m sorry but I didn’t ask you,

I’ll harass you, if I want to, & harass her *** too,
I’m lampooned, lampin’ on a lagoon in a pontoon,
going gorillas, with my baboons in the full moon,
hope to not get harpooned too soon high as a kite at high noon,

call me Sun, or Sultan,
everyone is overdone, it’s insultin’,
brainwashed, & super spun,
the buzzer buzzed, the ***** laundry’s done,

hang it out to dry in the breeze,
air it out the window for everyone to see,
then look up at the sky, & tell me what you see,
one life at a time out here in San Franpsy, thunder & lightning,

here in San Franpsy, the sky, has a reddish haze,
smoke from Ukraine, magic mushrooms & acid rain,

we have all types of weather here in San Franpsycho,
slash your wrists just to check your vitals,

San Franpsycho, ******, psy-trance,
that Psy guy, with his Gangnam dance, dance monkey dance, strung out junkies, self made flunkies,
& 3rd rate rejects with a 2nd chance,

computer programmers,
digital techno gods,
programming the New World Order,
Zuckerberg & Steve Jobs,
& yeah the equation is way off,
but somehow we’ll even the odds,

even when Silk Road is taken down,
at the public library by out of town Federal Agents,
the caterpillars still make silk from mother’s milk,
still there are celebrations without any occasions,

from Hiroshima to Fukushima,
laughter from the hyphy hellish hyenas,
belly of the Beast ****tting out diarrhea,
hey anyone have any memories for my ongoing amnesia,
or maybe some anesthesia for this creative creature,
jeez I can barely breath I need to leave but,
I’m disorientated deliriously stumbling around this arena,
where I was just served a subpoena to answer to Jesus,
but I’m not ready to leave just yet, enjoying the scenery bruh,
we’re all portraits portrayed in The Great Life Galleria,

& I’m enjoying the show laughing madly like the hellish hyenas,
tip toeing on eggshells a tipsy bombed out bombshell ballerina,
as if it’s all good ‘cause I haven’t seen a real life Hiroshima,
washing down a divine diva’s cleavage,
with medical marijuana margaritas,
shouting out “Eureka”, struck gold & made a deal with Jesus,

Christ, or Jackson,
like Mike, or Michael,
The mirrored man is the boogieman, nothing’s normal,
****, it all goes down in San Franpsycho,

thee end, is coming soon, do what you have to for survival…

They say, thee end’s coming soon,
thought there was more to say,
really though,
how much more can we say?

Lost,
amongst the chaos caught outside with a long way to go,
calm,
within the center inside everything comes 360° full circle...

from THHT3: Dark Lights | Bright Shadows
available worldwide: 9/9/19
Thoughts?
Nigdaw Aug 2019
From one
Many will come.
Like an echo
Continued in time;
Unique in their likeness
Universally the same;
Standing together, alone
Waving in unison,
As flags at the sun.
Life and colour
Is all they have,
That they share.
Written about a field of poppies, with more than just poppies in mind.
pa3que Jun 2019
dear Susie,
i’m really sorry but i have to go.
it’s not you— oh, but it actually is.

for i loved you in the field of poppies,
all up to the moment you tasted the grey dust of a city air.

-oh, but it actually is you.
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