Friday, May 7, 2010


i don't regret my schemes,
for psychedelic dreams.
i'd often take a hit,
and ride my pogo-stick.
off to other lands,
my head like rubber bands,
known only to the hip.

these beatniks were hand-picked,
by God it seems.
for psychedelic dreams.

i blew my synaptic head,
with the STP of "dread".
i thought my life was through,
from the horror that i knew.
but i emerged...

i sure was not the same.
i had no freaking name.
my identity was fried.
this cannot be denied.
for with what i had seen,
in my psychedelic dreams...
i must treasure to this day.
for it will not go away.

so sober, now i sleep.
my life almost complete.
a holy prayer i say,
so the monsters go away.
i feel not paranoid,
as i enter the great void,
where images i see...
that cannot frighten me...

i've gained my angel wings,
and seen so many things.
death can have its way.
i'll take it any day.
for my psychedelic dreams,
are normal daily things.
they do not frighten me.
for finally...
i see.


  1. WOW, that was beautiful. The late 70's were a "trip".Presently life looks lovely, OMMMMMM

  2. Nothing like some good LSD!!!! LOL That was really good!!! xxoo

  3. The 60's were even trippier Wanda!...LSD...changed me forever, Debbie!

  4. What do you see? What's out there...I'm in the dark...I'm trying not to concentrate on the black...the void...the unknown....I hear something...wait...did you hear that? It was like somebody whispering...kind of like...ppsssrrrsssssppppsssppprresssyahyyyyahhhppsssrrrsssyyysss....did you hear it....wait...there it is again...."Hey's Rich....get off my blog and get back to work you Piker!"