dr-don-the-night-tripper

I reached up Between your thighs I kissed your heart And you kissed mine But my heart was fickle As you soon found Your tears trickle But I sleep sound The battle is over But my mind is at war I never meant to hurt To make you cry I don't mean to be curt And I do wish the best But this is goodbye

0

Sep 1, 2014

Sep 1, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC

Ela Navega

I reached up Between your thighs I kissed your heart And you kissed mine But my heart was fickle As you soon found Your tears trickle But I sleep sound The battle is over But my mind is at war I never meant to hurt To make you cry I don't mean to be curt And I do wish the best But this is goodbye

15

Twenty nine first kisses Maybe even more Each in time came to pass A few times I wondered If she'd be my last Twenty nine burnt matches Lying in the sand I know what I want but... I don't know if I can Too afraid to love Too afraid to lose I'm tired of women I'm tired of the ups I'm tired of the downs I'm tired of using I'm tired of being used Infatuation Conditioned motivation Separation Love is red... Jealousy is green... ....Loneliness is a drag Beautiful woman Your kisses so fine But I know you'll never be Fully mine I'm tired of love and I'm tired of loss Self deprecation is selfishness Serotonin and cigarettes I'm tired of women **** you

0

Feb 16, 2014

Feb 16, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC

Tired of Love

Twenty nine first kisses Maybe even more Each in time came to pass A few times I wondered If she'd be my last Twenty nine burnt matches Lying in the sand I know what I want but... I don't know if I can Too afraid to love Too afraid to lose I'm tired of women I'm tired of the ups I'm tired of the downs I'm tired of using I'm tired of being used Infatuation Conditioned motivation Separation Love is red... Jealousy is green... ....Loneliness is a drag Beautiful woman Your kisses so fine But I know you'll never be Fully mine I'm tired of love and I'm tired of loss Self deprecation is selfishness Serotonin and cigarettes I'm tired of women **** you

32

Deep in the night The riders mount their bikes "Boys, let's ride" Peddle peddle peddle And we're off Swerving in and out we roam First to the Greens We zip down, around Meandering the urban sprawl Johnny takes front Our fearless leader We crash through shortcuts Bombing industrial hills Look at us! The kings of the streets Young Beautiful And ****** Hop the fence The highway deserted Fly down the exit ramp Never stopping for air The night riders Suspended in time Children forever But only in our minds I high five Johnny I see the band aid That which covers a mark A mark from shooting up He never had a chance like me Minds altered Body wasting away My bike's wheel falters I can't stay here... I was a night rider once, Just that once. I fell in love with the hills And the back paths I could live one long night Coasting down the long drops Cutting through back alleys Speeding through the sleeping city But I know it is not my place 7 days until I grow up Though the riders are young forever I must move on I pray for the night riders On this long moon Save their bodies, Lord. Let them grow old with me.

0

Jan 23, 2014

Jan 23, 2014 at 4:23 PM UTC

The Night Riders

Deep in the night The riders mount their bikes "Boys, let's ride" Peddle peddle peddle And we're off Swerving in and out we roam First to the Greens We zip down, around Meandering the urban sprawl Johnny takes front Our fearless leader We crash through shortcuts Bombing industrial hills Look at us! The kings of the streets Young Beautiful And ****** Hop the fence The highway deserted Fly down the exit ramp Never stopping for air The night riders Suspended in time Children forever But only in our minds I high five Johnny I see the band aid That which covers a mark A mark from shooting up He never had a chance like me Minds altered Body wasting away My bike's wheel falters I can't stay here... I was a night rider once, Just that once. I fell in love with the hills And the back paths I could live one long night Coasting down the long drops Cutting through back alleys Speeding through the sleeping city But I know it is not my place 7 days until I grow up Though the riders are young forever I must move on I pray for the night riders On this long moon Save their bodies, Lord. Let them grow old with me.

51

The lurking parasite He who creeps up in a lukewarm haze The one who puts grey tinted glasses on the windows of a soul Half filled boxes of half empty cups Floating at the bottom of a grave which is lit by florescent The deep dark secret with no key no lock no contents inside

0

Jan 19, 2014

Jan 19, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC

The bug

The lurking parasite He who creeps up in a lukewarm haze The one who puts grey tinted glasses on the windows of a soul Half filled boxes of half empty cups Floating at the bottom of a grave which is lit by florescent The deep dark secret with no key no lock no contents inside

13

Becoming... hmmm... what am I... becoming... is this the enlightenment of my trip? hmm... journeying through the seasons of inner time and place... therein which lies... a space.... not that sort.... not the sort of the spicky icky spacky... space... it's the... hmmm... sleepy space... I sit and wonder... this place is where I... ponder... fabric... the fabric of this life... I AM FLOATING INTO THIS CHAIR CONCEPT BANDS CONCEPT ALBUMS THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO SEE I AM JUST LIKE TIMOTHY LEARY ... but that... that is only a character.. the outlook I assume in..certain moods... that state of worry... that's what I mean. I am the wind the sea ... speak friend, enter... speak... speak to me. 'I see we meet again... hmmmm...' The music keeps changing my moods, you see... Subconscious... I must be more mindful... 'Increase mindfulness' I must bring the feelings... out don't shove them away... don't shove me away... on this normal squashy day Love your dark shadow love the wolves streams of consciousness I must cut up all of these streams I worry too much about the future... am I crazy? or just afraid of being... telepathy Here's this concept that I have that represents all of these feelings that I have that I tell to you and you receive as whatever feelings you associate with said concept and hope they match up I only write when I have something to preach... a sermon, you see.. yet I write every day... to preach a sermon to me 'Does it make me bad?' this way I am? does it make you.. mad? mushy swampy bog filled mushrooms I sag into the soppy plants in me this world is my swamp and this swamp is me into the swampy swamp I romp All day I ravage roam I stomp jive my vibe... Exotic exodus execution into the deep reeds paddling the little cellophane canoe Must... move... Must... go...

0

Jan 13, 2014

Jan 13, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC

The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test

Becoming... hmmm... what am I... becoming... is this the enlightenment of my trip? hmm... journeying through the seasons of inner time and place... therein which lies... a space.... not that sort.... not the sort of the spicky icky spacky... space... it's the... hmmm... sleepy space... I sit and wonder... this place is where I... ponder... fabric... the fabric of this life... I AM FLOATING INTO THIS CHAIR CONCEPT BANDS CONCEPT ALBUMS THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO SEE I AM JUST LIKE TIMOTHY LEARY ... but that... that is only a character.. the outlook I assume in..certain moods... that state of worry... that's what I mean. I am the wind the sea ... speak friend, enter... speak... speak to me. 'I see we meet again... hmmmm...' The music keeps changing my moods, you see... Subconscious... I must be more mindful... 'Increase mindfulness' I must bring the feelings... out don't shove them away... don't shove me away... on this normal squashy day Love your dark shadow love the wolves streams of consciousness I must cut up all of these streams I worry too much about the future... am I crazy? or just afraid of being... telepathy Here's this concept that I have that represents all of these feelings that I have that I tell to you and you receive as whatever feelings you associate with said concept and hope they match up I only write when I have something to preach... a sermon, you see.. yet I write every day... to preach a sermon to me 'Does it make me bad?' this way I am? does it make you.. mad? mushy swampy bog filled mushrooms I sag into the soppy plants in me this world is my swamp and this swamp is me into the swampy swamp I romp All day I ravage roam I stomp jive my vibe... Exotic exodus execution into the deep reeds paddling the little cellophane canoe Must... move... Must... go...

59

Father Winter Whispers in the Wind He is coming Again Down to us he journeys From lands far gone Pipe in mouth Staff in hand Is he the Greatest Wizard In all the Land? Stone faced Cold embrace Lumbering where the wind lies But was that a twinkle in his eye?

0

Jan 5, 2014

Jan 5, 2014 at 5:12 PM UTC

Father Winter

Father Winter Whispers in the Wind He is coming Again Down to us he journeys From lands far gone Pipe in mouth Staff in hand Is he the Greatest Wizard In all the Land? Stone faced Cold embrace Lumbering where the wind lies But was that a twinkle in his eye?

15

Little Sapling sitting upright in the Big Arm Chair calm classical music muffles the sedated voices behind each door. You sit upright, improperly left alone to fill such a Large Arm Chair. You turn your young face to the side, staring with large eyes at the toys adorning The Corner Table. The toys which you once would have played with, been engrossed with, a few Long Sunny Days ago. Yet today your innocent eyes merely dabble with the sight of them; the sight of a Long Sunny Day which was once yours to behold.

0

Dec 22, 2013

Dec 22, 2013 at 1:24 PM UTC

Little Sapling

Little Sapling sitting upright in the Big Arm Chair calm classical music muffles the sedated voices behind each door. You sit upright, improperly left alone to fill such a Large Arm Chair. You turn your young face to the side, staring with large eyes at the toys adorning The Corner Table. The toys which you once would have played with, been engrossed with, a few Long Sunny Days ago. Yet today your innocent eyes merely dabble with the sight of them; the sight of a Long Sunny Day which was once yours to behold.

23

The cool blue ripples reflect a solemn memory of a friendly smile once almost near Of long dark hair freefalling from a faded star; a young mind once so clear You put it in your vein that night you went to sleep under the cool blue rain Why was it so soon? I stop to wonder inside the golden garden What did you mask? I sit and ponder as the graceful leaves saunter to the ground From green to gold they turn, then back into the soil for the silent rain to churn They saunter to you as I sit and stare at the grey water that remains though you have left.

0

Dec 15, 2013

Dec 15, 2013 at 2:58 PM UTC

The Moon Dragon

The cool blue ripples reflect a solemn memory of a friendly smile once almost near Of long dark hair freefalling from a faded star; a young mind once so clear You put it in your vein that night you went to sleep under the cool blue rain Why was it so soon? I stop to wonder inside the golden garden What did you mask? I sit and ponder as the graceful leaves saunter to the ground From green to gold they turn, then back into the soil for the silent rain to churn They saunter to you as I sit and stare at the grey water that remains though you have left.

7

I am a fisherman of the wide open seas; I speak these words to he who all need. I am a seeker of the wisest Sage; He who rests peacefully beneath the weeping willow tree. To this Great Stone, To this Vast Abyss, May the former be broken And the latter be filled. To the Spirit in the Sky, The one who is hidden from my weary eyes; He who grants a Free Mind; He who I seek but cannot find.

0

Dec 15, 2013

Dec 15, 2013 at 1:02 PM UTC

Babylon

I am a fisherman of the wide open seas; I speak these words to he who all need. I am a seeker of the wisest Sage; He who rests peacefully beneath the weeping willow tree. To this Great Stone, To this Vast Abyss, May the former be broken And the latter be filled. To the Spirit in the Sky, The one who is hidden from my weary eyes; He who grants a Free Mind; He who I seek but cannot find.

12