Long Hallucinogens Poems

Long Hallucinogens Poems. Below are the most popular long Hallucinogens by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hallucinogens poems by poem length and keyword.


Saint Peyote of the Buttoned Down Shirt

Pray for us St. Mushroom of the Holy Sin
Keep our fingers free from sticky things
And safe from anxiety of the open hole 
In the middle of the doughnut where it belongs
Deliver us twelve of them but spare the sugar tax

Sin grows in the dark so wickedly delicious
Bury us not without nutritional consideration
Or restrictions on our caloric intake please
Measure not our waistline figures without end
Have mercy on them 
Bless us and deliver us from zippers

St. Peyote see fit to stitch our buttons tight
Teach us how to open the safe without explosives
To steal the contents and escape without notice
With shirts intact, fastened from top to bottom
Lost buttons are frowned upon downtown

Deliver us not into high fashion or traffic stops
Let not our mothers dress us funny after we grow up
St. Peyote, trust in us to feed the puppy only pizza
Without mushrooms.  Leave them to us


Premium Member Ricardo's Lunch

5th Ave. was shoulder to shoulder with
hungry lunch-seeking business men
and women. Ricardo unpacked
his horn nervously and a foot cymbal.
Spring, early street season, too cold
for most musicians but he needed money.
His lips kissed the cold metal mouthpiece.

Carrying the saw and the pulaski.
Cutting brush for a fire line high up, 
where raptors and ravens fly. No sound
but wind if you could subtract the crew
working and dirty, joking during lunch.
A good year it had been sitting in the soil
feeling Ricardo's body on the mountainside.
Mountains moving as good a feeling.

Alone in his town, most neighbors at work, 
housecleaning done, Ricardo settled down
with pen to write and ate lunch.
People = chickadees.
Clutch size, substrate, territory, gestation period.
Mating rituals. Use of alcohol and hallucinogens.
Forms of cancer, heart disease. Burial rites, memories.
Creation myths, beliefs for which there is no evidence.
Range: tundra to tropics.
Form: Verse

Premium Member Possessed By Fantasy

Crystalline dreams 
come rushing
on glitters of sensation 
in her blood…
this pure night changed
 into a dizzy maze , 
a heady ride on the gush 
of awakened illusion

through wheels swinging
 a studded jaunt,
as the fog  in her mind 
begins to wander
into unmentionable thrills 
of psychedelic blur,
wrapped in a magical time 
like a voodoo- girl
unknown by any blink
of dire fantasy


.................
Lewis Raynes’ That Colorful Drug Contest
6/2/2016
*cocaine is  referred to as 'crystalline' alkaloid stimulant
* ecstasy is a drug containing hallucinogens
   which includes cocaine

Premium Member A Psychedelic Journey

With my eyes half closed I looked in the mirror to see
that worry and anxiety have painted a psychedelic me.
My face is contorted, and I seem to be quite unraveled,
reflected in colors showing where my mind has traveled.

It appears I've become distorted, in a state of psychosis.
"Your behavior is bizarre." That was a doctor's diagnosis.
I feel like an abstract work of art on a canvas torn apart
as if hallucinogens have found their way into my heart.

I fear I've fallen into an abyss of weird mental perceptions
where my mind sees things that are merely misconceptions.
I need saving from this state in which everything is surreal.
Twisted and delusional are not emotions I choose to feel.

I've lost my patience while waiting for this journey to end.
Help is what I need to untether me. Is there one kind friend
among you who will help me find a way out?  Just one fellow
who will set my world aright until once again I am mellow?
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member - Golden Age Music -

        Pink Floyd

        Such cruel misery, shocking
        Parents generation distanced themselves
        "The Dark Side of the Moon"
        Psychedelic rock,
        they could not believe -
        or did not want to believe
        Hallucinogens on vinyl !
                                         Surrealistic !
        "Is There Anybody Out There?"
        Worldwide recognition
        "Shine On You Crazy Diamond"
        Pink Floyd - giants without a doubt
        innovative in their; "Time"
        "Oh, By the Way"
                                  ...  "Have a Cigar"


Premium Member A Rogue Black Bear

The Black Bears roam the mountain top
Just before Dawn, you hear the “Hooo”
The mating call Incessant : “ STOP!! “
Infects the mind, infecting : “ YOU “

My Black Soul travels  Everywhere
The Black Bears roam the mountain top
My Dreams : I am a Rogue Black Bear
“Hooo” “Hooo” “Hooo” ; I too, can not “STOP!! “

Hallucinogens : “ Quite a Crop “
Growing along the Forest floor
The Black Bears roam the mountain top
Eating Weeds off the Forest floor

Insanity,  Reality
Imagination : “Do not “STOP””
Wandering Through “ Eternity “
The Black Bears roam the mountain top

Author's Note : I Ask my POETRYSOUP Family To Critque this Quatern
                 Thank-YOU ALWAYS and FOREVER YOUR Liege...HG
Dedicated to my "Sister Spirt" -- "Lynette Charchere" with LOVE ALWAYS and FOREVER
Form: Quatern

Premium Member Threads of Wispy Air

On threads of wispy air,
in breathy undertones of political wind,
I can hear the quiet catastrophe,
the quiet ruination of our commonwealth.
I can hear the sleepy madness, turned avalanche
between my ears. 

I can hear the quiet catastrophe,
the whispered words of terrorists, 
guttural phrases taunted as political incorrectness, 
flaunted vacuous nihilism fomenting insurrectionism,
the quiet convulsion of our self-rule.
I can hear the sullen invocation, turned torrent
within my mental models.

On threads of wary air,
in stealthily vengeful murmurs of pretenders,
I can hear the casual, softly spoken demise of justice, 
the grim sabotage of governance by principle,  
and with it,
the slow dripping blood of all those who died,
all those long forgotten.  
 
The fading ink on parchments spelled out ideals
never attained or practiced in a nation’s history of enslavement
and genocide. 

Yet can the people’s ambit even begin without the
enshrinement of these principles for all? 

I can hear the quiet catastrophe,
the reckless, feckless conmen concocting hallucinogens.
Conspiracy contagions so easily playing upon, confirming
the jaundiced eyes, so easily validating the invectives of the addicted.

On threads of wispy air,
in breathy undertones of political wind,
I can hear the quiet catastrophe.
Are you listening?
Form: Didactic

The Poeple

They, the invisible manipulators
that speak for us all,
they called us 'the people'.

Some went seeking Big Foot,
we needed a sasquatch, a mentor.
Some tried hallucinogens,
others called it a day too soon.

Snicker bars were getting smaller,
there was much unfocused discontent.
The dead were accused of letting us down
far too gently.

The people waited
for an artificial Intelligence,
a drug to lead them
to make better decisions.

People lost faith in people,
buskers pawned their guitars and flutes,
violins were sold for guns.

It was the best of the worst,
and it did not get any better
just suspiciously easier.

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