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Ken Pepiton Jan 20
-------------- adjust the minute

When people go to the desert,
with no toys to play on, just,
so fine a term, just is. Adjustable,

one size fits all, all together now, yup,

we done it gang, we got to the land
of refrigerators,
and global fresh produce,

the land of corn, and wine,
Beulah's land in that one song,
you knew Beulah, she was the sub-
mom, wise as a neo-oracle, on Channel 3.
She had her own TV show, and she was good.

Now, I'm thinkin', all the colored folk
I ever had a laugh with, was on TV.

For a while they had Amos & Andy, with black
actors and voices, although on the radio,
those guys was white, few knew, I did.

But I did not know how to act around a bunch
of grunts, arrived one night, like 5 Bloods,
by invitation of that mad lieutenant from Maine.

We were approaching listen, quite time,
the once in while,
seems like all the time,
the spirit of the Fishnet Factory
first six months, Forever Changes,
Velvet Underground and Nico, and Jimi

drift up -- feel a night once, with a clear
seven second flash attention paid

to a phrase, a term, in cultural pacification,
- soul brother - said by an obvious hick,
yet,  the curtain lifted when some one heard,
really. Show us, what you mean,what you call

Radioman dropped acid that night, Purple Double Dome,
un beknownst to any but me who gave it him,

as that question became the point, and it was
a showdown,
and shut up, because the whole place felt it
when the net settled and the framing patterns

fit both STYF with BTDT boots, stolen, and not
really repented for,
it was a stunt, I was not caught, in fact,
I shined those boots to a three day pass,

which I had no clue how to use, it was Georgia,
the experience that night began, with Georgia
on my mind,
and we wandered, into realms few armed men
have ever entered,

more centered in the middle of three point
literature enclosure,

as one, zazen, me. Tom Green, with his Panasonic
Reel to Reel, and Weirder Harold, who ran the radar.

we got this signal see, we think we listen,
its like those people's courts, entertain us,
show us the law,
with names changed to conceal the innocent,
rampant false accusations,

witness protection,
you do not need to know why wars are fought
for money,
Nietzsche said power, wills clash to prove
Lobster level stacking nature of us,
we, the people in any structured we, you and I,
we, are a wedom open
on allsides, as at the bottom of the ocean of air,

we live in a devilishly clever contraption,
mind you,
mind me, we become something more,
ifery point imaginable as novelty patterns,
Submissive art,
-so insert Jello time - absorb
-slow thunk
- whump whump
seen through, as leaves leaving little strands
of cool shade
to mingle with light, soft, recessed lighting
reflecting from limed walls, lacing, subtile shadow

Synchronisity, simple, sure.
Madness come upon a man robbed of hope.

How come he to think of me, and wonder if
ever is itself a mythic psi-psy-science,

called into being,
by the mouth
of a major stadium mob.

In every stadium on earth, the spirit
of the crowd,

people make their living, by maintaining,
I am not them, they are the prey,
they are my targets,
look for munchies,
- faces tell every thing
look for cotton mouth, search signals sort
those ones,
in need,
Holler - I got it
as the real thing, baby, hear it sung, real,
deal done, in the spring
1970, alive and in attendance during
the cons-umption over some few weeks,
25 hits of the February 1970 Orange Sunshine.

Epic, everything, is epic, if you kept the records.

Yeah, if what we do is written and recorded,
each thought and deed, something tells me,

part of that is true.
We live whole lives, and none of any day we live,
was lived artificially, we did it, as it came to pass,

took baby steps and giant feel like falling ones,
in stride,

struttin', lookin', laughin'

we got past that,
let's celebrate we know, one trick traps,
make y'famous,
make y'ten minute rich, with five of fame,
at the end.

While we die, taking our own sweet time,
finding stacks of seven seconds on acid,
I had forgotten where I put.
Knowing I can think it, do not make it so.
The next act, of adrenaline
Supposed forces, to win a kinder stare
Through the looking glass, as if shine
Is a wall to itself, patience and their horses, fare

A race to the more, ever and stone sore?
Of a friends cleverer smile...
Same to how, we found your quarrel
With me, a simpler distance to while...

Mean or main stay...
This moment, made for the devil and the blue sea
Meant, in time with sour notion, pain
Is the only force we see, for a man or woman in love, deem...

A hat of errors, that knew you for a wiser momentum
A whine of distant feelings, that shares the known, to be
A callous share in proof, that has the time to question a room
A singing candle? awake at the touch of a lover, is my kiss anarchy?

Hate a rhyme to begin, with a resolve in the rage of another?
Spite, carnal license, and hopeful sycophants of a rule of thumb
With your name on it, and my cares, the risks of loving a bother
With your needs and vice, as a charity we will know is succinctly won...

Heroines, with a table to eat from, timidly share a savior
******'s, with a resolute few, is here to skip the wisdom of done who
Hero's, with a tap to ply and explain, are a safety's warrior
He, with an excused hand has a reason to be, to the patience we do too...
A request from hell and back, that has no final kiss, but rages mind...? What if a silent kiss for purposes unknown, was yours?
sunday Jan 1
Put down the taco. Eyes close. Then - Zooooooooooooooooooooooooommmmmm!

My body at this point - already melted into the chair - head whirling cold - loozing touch hehe

Oh! Don’t leave without saying goodbye! - I said this to the infinitely expanding black void that-

“I’ll be back. I have to unlock the final triforce. It is locked behind a backlit Pluto.”

Clearly we were in a Mexican restaurant


The gods were clearly on his side with that pink **** and all so this chromium dude was on to

something - ope! My powers disappeared! I guess my time is up in heaven.
DMT Acid LSD Shrooms Psychadelics
Looking at a beautiful piece of work by Kei
I S A A C Mar 2022
they are polluted by my delusion
they were born to ruin
my tears are acidic and my burden is heavy
my fears are basic and I feel incomplete already
it's a lot to wrap my head around, especially when my feet are not on the ground
I'd rather ride the clouds or catch a wave
who determined that life had to be so grey, day in and day out
paychecks in and I already spent it, this hole I cannot get out
my teardrops are acid and my god I cannot hold them in any longer
my emotions are stronger the longer they harbor.
Alicia Moore Feb 2022
anything that involves him
seems to be wholly acidic;
why did I think I could be an
alkaline strong enough for this?
WickedHope Oct 2021
Your kiss leaves an acid ring that devours my skin
This isn't what I had in mind when you asked me to sin

Your taste is like cold ash sitting on my tongue
You said swallowing fire was supposed to be fun

You tore me apart and never quite pieced me back together
Now I'm hooked on your burn and I'll need it forever

Running your fingers down my arms I lean into your touch
But you always back away and laugh claiming I want too much

I'm addicted to the way your hands mar my flesh
I'm chasing your love like I'm chasing my death

If I could leave you I would but I'm masochistic
If I escaped your torture I know that I'd miss it
George never let's go of me and I don't even know what I want anymore.
Please walk away so I don't have to.
mark soltero Aug 2021
rain falls on roof tops
acid desecrates energy in the air
rain falls onto us
sprinkling in your hair
we look perfect
skin soft
deflection corrupts meaning
but the acid obliterates any sign of fear
pain that we bear is nothing for vanity
gasping for a breath to see past depression
bear the burden of self awareness with me
move forward
lovely words to follow
we mean them dearly
insert our minds into perfect reality
alyssum withers Jun 2021
***** and sweat,
Hunched and broken,
By the toilet bowl
I will flush you out
Until the only thing left of you
Of us
Is the tears in my eyes
And the acid in my throat
and i feel something when i see you now...

posting some old drafts ****
Norman Crane Apr 2021
we regurgitate
ideas with which we grew
acid worlds we knew
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