Waiting
And waiting

Press play

Repeat
After repeat

Tremors in the wavelength
Auras glisten and shine

There goes the time
****, there goes my mind

Six twenty three
Sun sets in suburbia

Pink!
Mother Earth, what a radiant shade

My humble sinister streets
Breathing newfound life

I’ve been here a thousand times
Never have I seen this before

Walk with me Brother
Bring along your Lover
She’s no stranger to me

Strangers don’t exist
Psychedelic fantasy

Eyes shut to the physical
Eye opens at the pineal

Dance in the comfortable darkness
Sway to the new-age hippie acoustic

Two young tree nymphs
Bending and twisting
Loving and mixing

A soft-core *****
Close curtain
Open eyes

The stage but a well beaten trail
Fingers dancing in the dirt
Oh well
It’s getting around that time

Psilo-Cybrans [bear-headed-cybernetic-humans] experience cyberdelic information via symbiotic cybernetic augmentation.
By substantially replacing many parts of the occipital & parietal lobes
and installing a complex biofeedback device in the corpus callosum
the user can moderate the flow of information (between the brain's hemispheres and a reworked central nervous system) in real-time. The biofeedback device is a two-way interface which enables the user
to supplement internal calculations with those of an onboard computer.
Using this device one merges consciousness with artificial intelligence,
Overhauling most mental faculties while retaining complete autonomy.
This is known as a 'twined-A.I.'.
In addition to data moderation one can qualify feedback excitation and quantify signal-lag, this allows for superior diagnostics and analysis.

Using a twined 'A.I.' one can effectively manage information generated by The Psychedelion, reducing the accompanying data of Absurdia with ease. The Psychedelion is accessible through cyberspace or by conventional means, though the degree or level of access does have proportionate side effects such as
physical/perceptual alterations: e.g. increased local power usage, changes in pupillary response, yawning, ect.  / i.e. visual, cognitive, ect.

Some Psilo-Cybrans forego the growth of hair after cranial augmentation to simplify cleaning such implants (which lends itself to their name). A select few continually install more implants to better facilitate their cyber-immersion and often wear hooded garments/robes to hide this, they are known as Cybran Illuminate; these Others use Aeon techniques such as meditation or dissociation to further enhance or induce their immersion into a cybernetic or cyberdelic trance.

I often forget how to write.
            Not because I am happy,
                        and, as they say, happiness writes white.
            Nor for any lack of sadness,
                        for, as I see, sadness is a bottomless ink well.
            But for any wild and outrageous feeling,
                        any like spirit who possesses my hand to start --
                                    with awesome, judging faces sliding on the ceiling,
                                                icons of the mother and god-child
                                                       ­     dripping down eternal blue and martyr red,
                                                            ­            like arms hanging, waking, pinning!
                                                        ­                            "Woman, behold your son!"
                                                           ­                                   Behold me, my THC and psilo-sin life,
                                                           ­                                   an endlessly whirling maelstrom of emotion!
                                                        ­    flanked by monstrous, winged choirs of Motown
                                                          ­              slinging fiery spears, gold rays penetrating!
                                                    ­                                "Oh, oh, God!" The Ecstasy of St. Philip!
                                                         ­                                     Visions of horse-hung hosts and celestial orbs,
                                                           ­                                   Heaven's dynamo, an **** of screws and cogs!
                        -- are hid.


I too watched the best minds of my generation,
            anesthetized by sanity in a bottle
                        (id est: pills, pills, pills, pills, pills);
            mesmerized by patterns of flashing lights
                        of digital desperation crying, "affirm me, friend me!" -;
            drowned in an endless sea under a twilight of information
                        or else cats, cats, cats, cats, cats;
            and ever afeard of mortal judgment.
                       “Big boys don’t cry” (so poets do in breathy meter).

A generation asleep
           - and though in hopeful dream -
                      We are placid.
                      We work obedient.
                      We speak soft.
                                 Because the whole world is medicated now.
                                 Because the whole world is fixed.

And I wonder if there is a Spirit.
           I think, if there is,
                      We have drugged her.
                      We have ravished her.
                      We have wasted her.
                                 And the whole world is silent now.
                                 And the whole world is fixed.

It can't plausibly be, infinity;
Psilo-Cybranity
seeking liberty.

His body shivered, thy
Myth of Entactus
flowing through him.

Symbiosis
is hybridity,
Finally transcendent.