I ate an lsd apple
John Lenmesin

no sleep in weeks
no justice no peace
minutes lie, dream eyes
pen scribbles
rise is to realize
parka as a pillow
AM to PM to AM
rest subway car.
Alone by the guy
with a knife.
He gaze icy
I threw my brass knucks
over the Brooklyn Bridge.
So I Butthead chuckled
Started cockadoodle doing
Went talking to myself and to him
about how I gave all my money
to a Quadriplegic turned muscleman
in sharp black suit
He inched away.

I kissed the ad over his head.

I was on Broadway.
I sang all through the C train
smelling like shit.
Waving my hands and swung the poles.
People looked down or away
A woman said, "uh huh honey."
tipped my imaginary hat
Bid them adieu.
The subway people
The people
I love you
I just always wanted to
tell you.
Blown kisses,
Still smelling like shit
when was the last time
I showered at a sink?



Canyon voice gathering at the Square
I ate an lsd apple
Jesus was walking
and talking with me there.
Cars beeped
and children floated from the street
to the sidewalks,
lamppost surveillance
Terrorists
Considered same on the list.
We tried to sleep
at a Harry Potter book signing line.
Two girls were following us
asking so many questions
Vibes I seized.
They were in secret sneezing
to an announcer with news microphone,
his cameraman propped up like,
a bouncer.

How long had I
a dead phone?

Looking wreck pathetic
New clear telepathic.

What then next?

The lady in the Met booth
I threw myself at her wisdom.


Mario, my father. Eve, my mother.
Son is a basket case.
This was my most dramatic
Kabuki performance,
away from paint.
Infamous new mind transformation
34th & 7th
the curly dark haired angel
with umbrella, divine light and
ambient electronic church
like "Hymn 23"
Watershed sounds
when she pointed steel tip
at subway duct.
Your God thought it beautiful.
I got up.

She went up the stairs.

"Did you hear what she did?"
"See what? Hear what?"

A brush with a woman in white
whispered," I'm going to her."
Just as she too disappeared.
The man looked at me blankly.
Just what I had feared.

I cried hysterically following.
Asking people in the station
"Did you see the woman in the ribbon hat
The lady divine with the umbrella
encapsulating time?"

Their faces grinned and grew
into sentinel iBorgs
with fraternal reptile smiles,
I was shit deep in the white.
I was one too, Jesus God, I looked at my reflection in a revolving door.
I kept my head phones
off and everyone was a cop.
Crying, slapped a pay phone.

I knew though, that I had a home.


Fucking apple was wild.

#poem   #angel   #apple   #holy   #nyc   #lsd   #guardian  

In the sickness of you
I'm just a white blood cell
Fighting like hell for you

Oh, I'm just a crack wirh no intent or stash
PeacockBrain
PeacockBrain
Apr 10, 2012

Brother don't leave me now,
Come down this way with me.
If you go out on your own
You'll never return saf-ely.

Faces morphing
Colors changing
Hearts convulsing
Ceilings spazzing
Hands shaking
Reality vanishing

-

What

is

anything?

Very controversial topic, yet, art at its highest peak.
Kaleena Sue Morgan
Oct 13, 2013

I had a big stage.
Set to the grizzly backdrop of rural Stephen King.
Posts for streets and persecution for people.

But I've seen the suns light bend to the curvature
of the sky's massive hands.
And share the illumination like they were
gifts from no one in particular.
So, bright and light yet pregnant with inspiration
that the ideas refracted off the green grass
and stretched out for the rest of my life
and yours.
The people grew branches
and bloomed blossoms and
smelled of crisp forgiveness.
And you were there, and you and you.

lsd is more of a way to forget about life
Marsha Lynn
Marsha Lynn
Sep 5, 2013

people always ask me
about my best trip
and expect me to tell them all of these deep
revelations
about how my life will never be the same
and all i can really say is that
lsd is more of a way to forget about life
and focus on now
focus on nothing but being alive
i mean being
there is no secret
nothing to be revealed
you know everything already
just
be

I feel my pupils,
Dialate,
My legs become,
A nimble stalk of grass
Blowing in the breeze

Everything is fucking awesome,
The hand of God Himself could not bring me down
From this man made chemical high

I struggle to pull a cigarette,
From a freshly opened pack
Because I can't quite feel my finger tips
Damn you, Marlboro..

Leaves shake involuntarily,
On the trees before my eyes
The little piece of square paper,
That rests upon my tongue,
Brings me harmony

Faeri Shankar
Faeri Shankar
Jun 16, 2012

Shankar smiled as the waves crashed
To the drop of the bass we were
Alive and breathing subconsciously
Losing all air to the cry of peculiar felines
And there existed a flittering longing 
Once common perception returned.
My hair was threaded gold 
Beneath your fingertips.

When my mind is feeling
like it's floating underneath a painted ceiling
and the windows crack
to take me back
into another
dream
and the ceiling's just a scene that's crayoned on a bathroom door
but the beauty of the dream is that it shows me so much more
than I would know
that's where I go.

When the hallway drifts into a serene sea
I'll be
there.
In the shaking waking hours of dawn before I'm born again
when the night becomes some distant fix upon an orbital
I absorb it all
and put it in a cardboard case.
In case I want to look again into that other realm
that overwhelms my senses
and makes less sense to me
every time my mind floats free
underneath a painted
ceiling.

Traveler
Traveler
Sep 4, 2013      Sep 5, 2013

I am not real
I am only an illusion
Perhaps that's confusion

Imagine such a dilemma
All the Time believing
Yet a thought can be deceiving

Existence is subjective
This ink that you see
Isn't really me

So why be concerned
No need to discern  
Give no thought to agree...

This really isn't me.

 
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