#popcorn - Hello Poetry

Perhaps it’s to exercise jaws But a naughty porcupine gnaws On handles of wood, So salty and good, But they’d prefer popcorn to saws.

0

Apr 29, 2024

Apr 29, 2024 at 1:58 PM UTC

david-plantinga

Popcorn and Porcupines

Perhaps it’s to exercise jaws But a naughty porcupine gnaws On handles of wood, So salty and good, But they’d prefer popcorn to saws.

5

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.

0

Feb 3, 2022

Feb 3, 2022 at 5:04 AM UTC

anaisvionet

sleepy popcorn

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.

9

( Not a poem a repost.) - Love letter straight ~from your heart~ An-K response ~~~~~~~~ My dear Angel K. Good Evening dear. Now I start reading and replying your emails You tell me that every women in LOVE wants to devour her boy/ man I would pray and wish and hope to be literally devoured when I am with you ~~~ But I do not get this phrase germinate BLOWING UP like POP CORN for lover me... -- Raj 4 Angel K. ~~~~~~ Written By: two poets loving Poetry Virtual cyber Relationship And the language barriers Making it all fun.

0

Jul 8, 2021

Jul 8, 2021 at 9:29 PM UTC

karijinbba

Poetess blown away laughing

( Not a poem a repost.) - Love letter straight ~from your heart~ An-K response ~~~~~~~~ My dear Angel K. Good Evening dear. Now I start reading and replying your emails You tell me that every women in LOVE wants to devour her boy/ man I would pray and wish and hope to be literally devoured when I am with you ~~~ But I do not get this phrase germinate BLOWING UP like POP CORN for lover me... -- Raj 4 Angel K. ~~~~~~ Written By: two poets loving Poetry Virtual cyber Relationship And the language barriers Making it all fun.

24

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.

0

Sep 8, 2020

Sep 8, 2020 at 11:20 AM UTC

normancrane

Cumulus

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.

4

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

0

Aug 8, 2020

Aug 8, 2020 at 11:44 AM UTC

Light_VS_Dark

My Lifes A Show

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

15

We were victors, we were gods, we were keepers of the crown. We had plucked the fire’s eye, we had worn the monster down. We had pierced creation’s heart, we had brought its pulse to heel. We had cracked the atom’s code, we were masters of the Wheel. Yet we withered at inflections, we wallowed in our psalms, We watched our brute reflections as we wiped our sweaty palms. So stranger prayed for stranger, so father wept for son, Till came that awful moment when the sirens wailed as one. And the world went mad. Whole nations torn, woods and cities burning. Into the tempest life’s ashes borne; What keeps the cinder turning? Came the rains, relentless, deluging all. Banshees of steam screamed—rising, rising only to fall. Hurricane winds ever tapered, and then, Sunshine enlightened the planet again. And the world was seed. Now, for every step its evolution takes, This rock a million revolutions makes. In seas, in pools, in hollows, in lakes, Sunlight the author of Certainty wakes. Eons, ages—incalculable span— In seas, in pools, in hollows, in lakes… In time, the journey of life began. And the world blushed green. Wherever life ventured, it flourished. Fin begat foot, the land opened wide. Through conflict, through want, brute powers were nourished. Blood screamed its passage, fresh blood replied. Whole species vanished, new species clashed, Life savaged life in forests and seas. In shadows of monsters a warm creature dashed: Something unique was afoot in the trees. Then one signal spring, embracing the land, A wayfarer into the wilderness ran. He distanced his cousins: erect he could stand. He prowled the wide savanna, His head held high—the Man. And the world beckoned. He ranged in tribes, worked wood and bone, Built gods of loam, struck fire with stone. One prize drove this hunter, one prey made him burn— To break his world, to make it bend…he had to know, He had to learn. He wandered the plains of forgotten cities, all long reduced to dust. He studied the fossils of iron pillars, and pondered on the rust. Millennia passed, he courted the Wheel. His science grew apace. Nature’s spires fell to steel, his towers took their place. Cities blossomed, succumbed to war. Sacred trusts decayed. Nations clashed like beasts of yore. Men took to arms and prayed. Then one anxious fall, his slick treaties scrapped, This warrior turned magician: the cosmos’ source was tapped. A hero, a giant, a god would he be! He held this power captive—this power greater than he. So we wither at inflections, we wallow in our psalms. We watch our brute reflections as we wipe our sweaty palms. So stranger prays for stranger, and father weeps for son, Till comes that awful moment when the sirens wail as one. And the world sighs again. Thanks for reading Masters Of The Wheel. NOW PLEASE CUT AND PASTE THE LINK BELOW TO READ HERO, A SPRAWLING, GROUNDBREAKING FANTASY FOR GROWNUPS IN TWO PARTS—ABOUT THE FIRST HUMAN TO CIRCUMNAVIGATE THE PLANET. (BUT YOU MUST CLICK ON THE PROVIDED LINK AT THE CONCLUSION OF PART ONE TO ACCESS PART TWO! THAT’S WHERE THIS TALE’S AMAZING RESOLUTION LIES. But please...intelligent readers only!) NOW HERE’S THAT LINK: https://allpoetry.com/poem/14922744-Hero---Part-One-by-Ron-Sanders Copyright 2020 by Ron Sanders. contact: [email protected]

0

Feb 18, 2020

Feb 18, 2020 at 8:51 PM UTC

ron-sanders

Masters Of The Wheel

We were victors, we were gods, we were keepers of the crown. We had plucked the fire’s eye, we had worn the monster down. We had pierced creation’s heart, we had brought its pulse to heel. We had cracked the atom’s code, we were masters of the Wheel. Yet we withered at inflections, we wallowed in our psalms, We watched our brute reflections as we wiped our sweaty palms. So stranger prayed for stranger, so father wept for son, Till came that awful moment when the sirens wailed as one. And the world went mad. Whole nations torn, woods and cities burning. Into the tempest life’s ashes borne; What keeps the cinder turning? Came the rains, relentless, deluging all. Banshees of steam screamed—rising, rising only to fall. Hurricane winds ever tapered, and then, Sunshine enlightened the planet again. And the world was seed. Now, for every step its evolution takes, This rock a million revolutions makes. In seas, in pools, in hollows, in lakes, Sunlight the author of Certainty wakes. Eons, ages—incalculable span— In seas, in pools, in hollows, in lakes… In time, the journey of life began. And the world blushed green. Wherever life ventured, it flourished. Fin begat foot, the land opened wide. Through conflict, through want, brute powers were nourished. Blood screamed its passage, fresh blood replied. Whole species vanished, new species clashed, Life savaged life in forests and seas. In shadows of monsters a warm creature dashed: Something unique was afoot in the trees. Then one signal spring, embracing the land, A wayfarer into the wilderness ran. He distanced his cousins: erect he could stand. He prowled the wide savanna, His head held high—the Man. And the world beckoned. He ranged in tribes, worked wood and bone, Built gods of loam, struck fire with stone. One prize drove this hunter, one prey made him burn— To break his world, to make it bend…he had to know, He had to learn. He wandered the plains of forgotten cities, all long reduced to dust. He studied the fossils of iron pillars, and pondered on the rust. Millennia passed, he courted the Wheel. His science grew apace. Nature’s spires fell to steel, his towers took their place. Cities blossomed, succumbed to war. Sacred trusts decayed. Nations clashed like beasts of yore. Men took to arms and prayed. Then one anxious fall, his slick treaties scrapped, This warrior turned magician: the cosmos’ source was tapped. A hero, a giant, a god would he be! He held this power captive—this power greater than he. So we wither at inflections, we wallow in our psalms. We watch our brute reflections as we wipe our sweaty palms. So stranger prays for stranger, and father weeps for son, Till comes that awful moment when the sirens wail as one. And the world sighs again. Thanks for reading Masters Of The Wheel. NOW PLEASE CUT AND PASTE THE LINK BELOW TO READ HERO, A SPRAWLING, GROUNDBREAKING FANTASY FOR GROWNUPS IN TWO PARTS—ABOUT THE FIRST HUMAN TO CIRCUMNAVIGATE THE PLANET. (BUT YOU MUST CLICK ON THE PROVIDED LINK AT THE CONCLUSION OF PART ONE TO ACCESS PART TWO! THAT’S WHERE THIS TALE’S AMAZING RESOLUTION LIES. But please...intelligent readers only!) NOW HERE’S THAT LINK: https://allpoetry.com/poem/14922744-Hero---Part-One-by-Ron-Sanders Copyright 2020 by Ron Sanders. contact: [email protected]

65

As the man on screen aims His rifle towards the zombie's head, I picture myself holding the pistol To mine. Tighten my finger over the cold trigger. Pop The popcorn in my microwave And dust on the shelves Are all that hits my ear. I'm fighting the zombie. The sunken eyed ghoul that Haunts my mirror.

0

Sep 15, 2019

Sep 15, 2019 at 11:21 PM UTC

Katelynxlove

Couch Thriller

As the man on screen aims His rifle towards the zombie's head, I picture myself holding the pistol To mine. Tighten my finger over the cold trigger. Pop The popcorn in my microwave And dust on the shelves Are all that hits my ear. I'm fighting the zombie. The sunken eyed ghoul that Haunts my mirror.

12

Distracted, She’s holding the flat popcorn bag in hand, Giggling into the phone while the boy Idles time away rereading a well-worn tale. It expands, The bag in hand Blowing up past her fingers Onto countertops and kitchen floors. Partially cooked kernels skid away From giggles rising to shrieks That shatter the lights around the pair and tears through the house. The girl hunches in the kitchen, Sheepish embarrassment erupting in pink blushes across the face, While the boy slowly lowers the book made helmet. His hands tremble, but she does not see, For he shakes his head in exasperation And goes for the brooms down the hall. They spend the rest of the evening bathed in candlelight Curled up on the couch with the taste of salt on their tongues From the bag of chips shared between them.

0

Aug 10, 2019

Aug 10, 2019 at 11:59 PM UTC

TheraLance

Microwave Girl

Distracted, She’s holding the flat popcorn bag in hand, Giggling into the phone while the boy Idles time away rereading a well-worn tale. It expands, The bag in hand Blowing up past her fingers Onto countertops and kitchen floors. Partially cooked kernels skid away From giggles rising to shrieks That shatter the lights around the pair and tears through the house. The girl hunches in the kitchen, Sheepish embarrassment erupting in pink blushes across the face, While the boy slowly lowers the book made helmet. His hands tremble, but she does not see, For he shakes his head in exasperation And goes for the brooms down the hall. They spend the rest of the evening bathed in candlelight Curled up on the couch with the taste of salt on their tongues From the bag of chips shared between them.

20

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

0

May 30, 2019

May 30, 2019 at 9:39 AM UTC

halfpac11

Sunrise is like....

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

15

i remember a friday when i was ten, or maybe eleven i was in love with a girl named lyndsay not that i ever said anything to her she was dating chad, an utter douch i was smart i could explain gravity but i couldnt run or kick a ball so i did my school work and daydreamed about the day when i would be the coolest person in the room simply because i was smart and then one day, lindsay gave me a gift a 50 cent bag of popcorn she told me she got it just for me so i thanked her, and went back to my desk to eat it in the first bite was a piece of chewed gum i couldnt spit it out, that would be rude so i swallowed it and cursed the parent volunteer who had been so careless with their gum twenty one years later sitting on the toilet it occurs to me that maybe lindsay deserved chad more than i knew

0

May 24, 2019

May 24, 2019 at 10:21 PM UTC

declan-o-donohue

My first love

i remember a friday when i was ten, or maybe eleven i was in love with a girl named lyndsay not that i ever said anything to her she was dating chad, an utter douch i was smart i could explain gravity but i couldnt run or kick a ball so i did my school work and daydreamed about the day when i would be the coolest person in the room simply because i was smart and then one day, lindsay gave me a gift a 50 cent bag of popcorn she told me she got it just for me so i thanked her, and went back to my desk to eat it in the first bite was a piece of chewed gum i couldnt spit it out, that would be rude so i swallowed it and cursed the parent volunteer who had been so careless with their gum twenty one years later sitting on the toilet it occurs to me that maybe lindsay deserved chad more than i knew

25

Ready to explode Wait a minute, don’t leave me Things will get butter

0

Mar 24, 2019

Mar 24, 2019 at 1:15 AM UTC

AlecAstaire

Our Love Was Like Popcorn

Ready to explode Wait a minute, don’t leave me Things will get butter

3

I still cry over you. I still mourn the love we had. As pure as it was. I never thought we'd be here. Though another love has graced me, I miss your unique touch And the way you appreciated me. Mistakes make us. And break us. I don't blame you. I never did. I can't listen to Van Halen Or watch more of the shows we binged Or even eat popcorn Without thinking of you and everything we had. Nostalgia plagues me And keeps me feeling Even though I shouldn't.

0

Mar 7, 2019

Mar 7, 2019 at 12:46 PM UTC

kagami

Means to an end

I still cry over you. I still mourn the love we had. As pure as it was. I never thought we'd be here. Though another love has graced me, I miss your unique touch And the way you appreciated me. Mistakes make us. And break us. I don't blame you. I never did. I can't listen to Van Halen Or watch more of the shows we binged Or even eat popcorn Without thinking of you and everything we had. Nostalgia plagues me And keeps me feeling Even though I shouldn't.

18

Dimmed lights and soft leather sheen As voices fade to a murmur Music booms out from a panoramic screen As we are pulled into an electric adventure Popcorn spills onto worn out carpet ply And ice creams licks fill the silent pauses Then a mobile ring causes an angry outcry And the guilty party leaves, to quiet applauses Magically we are transported into imagined worlds Where Aliens live and spaceships fly solo We watch as the good and evil story unfolds The twists and turns as our hero fights his foe Then the end and our hero survives And we cheer and whoop at the final battle An evening of excitement in our everyday lives And we leave counting days to the sequel

0

Oct 28, 2018

Oct 28, 2018 at 2:23 PM UTC

ukrose

Silverscreen

Dimmed lights and soft leather sheen As voices fade to a murmur Music booms out from a panoramic screen As we are pulled into an electric adventure Popcorn spills onto worn out carpet ply And ice creams licks fill the silent pauses Then a mobile ring causes an angry outcry And the guilty party leaves, to quiet applauses Magically we are transported into imagined worlds Where Aliens live and spaceships fly solo We watch as the good and evil story unfolds The twists and turns as our hero fights his foe Then the end and our hero survives And we cheer and whoop at the final battle An evening of excitement in our everyday lives And we leave counting days to the sequel

16

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

0

Aug 29, 2018

Aug 29, 2018 at 9:12 AM UTC

kyle-madill-baker

Agengda this weekend

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

13

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

0

Aug 5, 2018

Aug 5, 2018 at 2:09 PM UTC

violetmarkey

popcorn

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

20

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

0

Apr 13, 2018

Apr 13, 2018 at 4:10 PM UTC

prttybrd

Loveless, Sexless, Lifeless, and Free

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

39

People use your popcorn in popcorn poppers. You were the one and only Orville Redenbacher. Sadly, you died twenty-two years ago today. Your popcorn is still being eaten and it's here to stay. People were sad when you died in 1995. You're deceased but your legacy survives.

0

Sep 19, 2017

Sep 19, 2017 at 9:10 PM UTC

randy-johnson

Orville Redenbacher

People use your popcorn in popcorn poppers. You were the one and only Orville Redenbacher. Sadly, you died twenty-two years ago today. Your popcorn is still being eaten and it's here to stay. People were sad when you died in 1995. You're deceased but your legacy survives.

6

Concrete kisses on sunlit flowers Resemble ghosts of past lovers and buckets of caramel popcorn. and everything that is good and pure.

0

Apr 13, 2017

Apr 13, 2017 at 1:04 AM UTC

apoorv-shandilya

Memories.

Concrete kisses on sunlit flowers Resemble ghosts of past lovers and buckets of caramel popcorn. and everything that is good and pure.

6

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........

0

Jan 1, 2017

Jan 1, 2017 at 7:13 PM UTC

julie-grenness

REFLECTION!

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........

9

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

0

Sep 29, 2016

Sep 29, 2016 at 5:15 PM UTC

scholarsystem

stillness came when the world stopped looking forward to itself

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

23

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.

0

Jun 10, 2016

Jun 10, 2016 at 2:59 PM UTC

Poetria_

Microwave popcorn

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.

16

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.

0

May 24, 2016

May 24, 2016 at 5:49 PM UTC

callum-ray-foster

Never the popcorn

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.

12

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.

0

Feb 23, 2016

Feb 23, 2016 at 12:26 PM UTC

gabtrrs

After the Carnival

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.

11

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.

0

Dec 18, 2015

Dec 18, 2015 at 8:51 AM UTC

effieebbtide

Christmas, or space isn't all that cold in December.

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.

15