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DC raw love Apr 2015
The poppie plant blooms to the most beautiful flowers. It is called the Flower of Joy, the colors, the tranquility and how they can absorb you is one of a kind. And when they cut the bulb before it blooms, it bleeds *****.

In the Wizard of OZ, the field to the castle of OZ, was a Poppie field. Where, Dorothy, The Tin Man, The Cowardly Lion, The Scarecrow and Toto, caught a nap.

Alexander the Great used this flower to conquer the world. He gave it to his army to quite the hurting and to help and motivate the fighters from the pain of fighting.

Great Briton used it to control and suppress China and to make money to grow their kingdom.

It was then turned into Morphine and ****** in the late 1800's, legalized and taxed. It came in many forms of elixirs and then turned into big business. It could actually be purchased out of a Sears and Roebuck Catalog, where you could purchase it and get it in the mail. They could get their daily usage along with a syringe for a mere $1.95.

It was one thing of a few things that brought ****** to his knees when they cut the ***** supply to Germany. That stop his drug making for his soldiers that left them useless. His scientist then he invented methadone but it was to late.

In Afghanistan where the majority of ***** is produce, our army has only cut down a few of the poppie fields, only to know it will make it's way to the US. What could be their reason and motivation. Is it to help each economy though blood money.  

In today's world it is controlled by War Lord in the east, the south, and the orient, shipped to many different countries  in many unusually ways. Yet some of it to be purchased by large pharmaceutical companies.  

This innocent beautiful flower, that brings only joy to the eyes has been misused by man since 3400BC believe it or not. The death that it has left behind is uncapable of being calculated.
DC raw love Dec 2014
As I walk through these
poppies in an unending field

In a small village
In Afghanistan
A place of people's dreams

The one's who live there
Want a better life

The one's who don't
Want what's produced
From there crops

***** they make
That's in pain pills we take

Herion on the streets
Was once my dreams

This flower is known to be
A flower of God

It helped Alexandra the Great
To conquer this world

It's is only a flower
That helped define this world

There a lot of history
In drugs throughout this world
Sam Temple Jun 2017
~
reeds jut skyward
like spears in the hands of marching soldiers
below, rank mud squishes underfoot
we creep as near to silent as possible

crossing rusted strands of barbed wire
we enter private and protected ponds
with ninja stealth we take position
crouched in bramble
we cast thin line delicately into the void

slight tremors find my eager fingertips
as insomniac bass feel for tasty treats
slimy lips extend and inhale
******* worm and hook deep inside

my father snaps his fingers twice
the sound of a job well done
I feel his strong hand grip my shoulder
and look back to see his toothy grin
shine in the moonlight  /
erica court May 2015
your soft voice
        trickles over me
        like rain, like alive
        life curtsied before me
                a beauty in ****
                soft dark skin
over the wires leaping--
dizzies me
        I long for you to come to me
        in heels, swift, as poppie
        petals in the wind--
you are my rain, impertinently covering me
        and I don't mind, chirp over vibrations
        whirl me in your soft voice
and it's late at night but I like it, you know
                how sweet,
                        your voice is
for Sarah that keeps bugging me to use this ugly site
DC raw love May 2017
There always making...
There always taking...

From a flower so sweet,
it will control your means...

The poppie plant,
the joy of life.....

Opiates consume,
and take another life...

What ever the dose,
yet ****** come first...

The pharmaceutical companies,
make it worse...

Now a legal drug,
with no proabition....

Will take many lives,
without a decision....

Either way in life,
weather its right or wrong...

Drugs will take your life,
regardless how strong u are...
Tawanda Mulalu Jul 2015
You wanted the truth so now here it is:
I want you to **** me up.

I want you to eat me alive
and tear me up and
rip out all my pages
and then struggle to glue them back together knowing
that you probably won't try because -oh!..-  there's another page.

Open me.

End my being with your marginalia.
Write on my skin with ink if you have to,
but stain me. Stain me
with your negligent splashes of volatile
explosions of how your name tastes on your tongue.
Show me what it is to cry until you cry out blood
off of your throat. Let me know  
why your vivid hair always curls like that
without your permission. Tell me that I don't need
your permission to do the same to you
because everyone says my hair isn't combed
and you say you can't see the difference when it is so
bite me.

Bite me.


Bite me.



Bite me.





Tear apart whole chunks of my flesh until
you have had your fill. Smile that smile
that smells its smell of blossoming blood
like a poppie that decided to implode outwards.
Do it so that Faust is not even a second too late
to offer us his bargain because we were eons
ahead of him. Do it so that I understand why
you called me a hurricane. Am I your disaster?

Take me to your hell. Your eyes
excite me and I want to know why.
We should burn out violently.
Not be put out. Not gently.

Yes.
In the silence I don't grab you.
Next time I might.
*won't.
Ackerrman Oct 2019
Bouncing bubbles, thin dew stands jubilant
Atop Poppie’s vibrant, happy colour.
Poppies in summer time are in a trance,
Smiling rapturously: scarlet music!
C notes rise on a breeze, crimson follows
In a waltz, a samba- zounds, Fiddlesticks!
The garden would be desperately hollow,
Daffodils mope until crimson rhythm
Bursts spontaneous, famous elation
Ricochets, the hanging baskets fathom,
The chain braking freedom born stagnation.
Poppies will dance for the rest of their lives
And drink the sweet nectar, high as a kite.
Third piece  from a series of garden flower sonnets
Stu Harley Apr 2015
the scent of death
a sea of
red poppie
battlefields
crawl upon
the soldier's chest
what brings
the scent of death
Stu Harley Jul 2014
the scent of death
a sea of
red poppie
battlefields
crawl upon
the soldier's chest
what brings
the scent of death
Mike Hauser Mar 2022
I used to gaze up in the sky
At puppy dogs and butterflies
That's what I saw as clouds passed by
And life it did the same

In skies of blue the poppie fields
Would share the dreams young minds would yield
Tender thoughts one day until
This adult got in the way

And now those skies hold thunder clouds
I wish somehow I'd not find that out
Collective sighs can't hide the sound
That disappoint makes

I've tried and tried and tried again
But who am I trying to kid
When you've cracked the lid of innocence
You've lost too much along the way

And life never is the same...
sit next to the cardboard cut out so much to see living out my charmed legacy
search for the truth with all your heart to give a brand new start you see
as good as it is done from kingdom to come we rush to trim the lawn
burned with the passion by which you have turned a miracle abode

Sometime I can't hold it so out my fly goes through ***
a loving cure marked by memory
shattered dreams falling apart at the seam
work for the truth with all your heart to make a brand new start

sought through a charm to please sudden by the breeze

start the the longing search through the trees below the breeze excuse me
***..The Awakening set apart at the circle breeze
wandering, ever vigilant time to please
scattered through the leaves

just couldn't help it so I peed in the sink can't control my cheeks
cloned in circulation cut from you and me,
the service man with his poppie seed
calmly, cool and collective

pressure in the getting you got here
brown, green and ting of Cherry wine
set abroad a tender vine

— The End —