My name is experimental LSD,
and I'm on a psychedelic spree
inside a spider's tiny brain,
operating him like a wrecking crane.
All eight legs have their own lever,
I pull this one, that one, or whichever.
Dig these groovy spinnerets -
consciousness expanding jets.
To be truly, fully present
Of consciousness and
answering why we are here,
These studies are a promising field of research
Yet by powerful backlash
research has halted
For severe depression and PTSD
Universities use micro-doses of psylocibin
Derived from mushrooms
It lowers stress and doesn’t
cause hallucinations
Follow up studies show dramatic improvement
of conditions not previously responsive
to conventional medications and therapies
This chemical is still widely banned
Except for a few controlled studies
Underway at accredited, renowned medical
and psychiatric departments
at major universities
When popular conventional
therapies prove ineffective
the 60’s and 70’s proved a fertile ground
for those seeking help
New age treatment called Primal Therapy,
When religious cults such as love Guru’s
Hare`Krishna mantras, Buddhist chants
of Nam-Myoho-renge-kio or being shakabukued
or Hollywood fix its— for anxiety’s
mental illness failed,
Came the psychotherapists
and the latest Primal Scream Therapy
new and experimental, so-called Hollywood therapists
took it to levels unimaginable and a bit too far
and should have never been licensed!
The colors of the flowers are vibrantly swaying
The wind caresses them it seems with kisses,
whispering sweet nothings inside cheery cores
Daisy’s white pearly petals are speaking
Yellow sepals smiling, too yellow! Spiky discs
spinning peeking at me as I subtly study them
Dance little flower dance so alive,
I just want to hug and squeeze you
until you feel all this love as well
colors so vibrant
turned on, tuned in, so alive ~
I feel so much love
We were at a children's party
He told me about his ukulele
When he played in front of audiences
People would shout out, "Did it shrink?"
He worked as a chemistry teacher
To get this going he explained
A study he did with his students
In primary school
The comparative neuroanatomy and
Neurochemistry of zebrafish CNS systems of
Relevance to human neuropsychiatric diseases
Despite differences in the development of the telencephaion
I said, "Blimey"
He said "Yeah"
We high-fived and grabbed another beer
As he walked to the kitchen
I high-fived myself
I fist-bumped a Minion stuffed toy
Sat on the sofa
I was pleased with my mental well-being
Colorful Me LSD
Kaleidoscope euphoric psychedelic dreams
Rainbows colour perfect peaches and cream
Splashes orgasmic silhouettes of tiny screams
Cobalt rain droplets in a sunny set theme...
Tiny pearl spiders spin opaque webs in my spine
Snow plowed glass hazards in white chalked up lines
In awe to see so artfully the world in this design
Cosmic Being floating heavenly sure I am just fine...
Static electricity behind my waterfall aqua eyes
Oceans of misery as I bid a colorful goodbye
Back to mortality in a black and white world full of lies
Lucy in the sky in tiny blue diamonds she cries...
05/31/16
Pardon me
I'm afraid i have lost my mind
My ability to think
Better call the shrink...
Look there
By the girl in despair
Or the lost one
Asleep in the chair
Search through the dreaded locks of hair
This is not fair
Where could i be?
Look in the paintings for me
I cannot see
I think i lost it in the beat
Flattened, Under all the pounding dancing feet.
It could be in the voice of the one whose lying
Or in the eyes of the one whose crying
Or in the soul of one the one whose dying...
I have lost all hope
Maybe its in the smell of the dope
I think im starting to choke
No, its just a rope
What a sick twisted joke
Its in the words you spoke
Lost, its free
In a land of green
Where it returns to nothing
Something its always been
Have I seen you here before?
your face, your features, strike
me like a pale moon;
Perhaps I've seen you rise,
Up and at 'em in the morning,
Coffee and the breakfast run...
And falling, in the evening
Fingers and eyes tired,
Hair tumbling at your side.
Perhaps I know you,
Teaching algebra,
When I faced numbers,
Pushing them inside
At 17
Perhaps I know you,
Face calm and placid
Like a Hindu cow,
Because you're my guardian
angel,
The little devil on my side,
You're one of them, the
people,
And I'm forcing them inside
Still at 21
The flowing river, water
smoothing over pebbles, moss,
the gleaming reach of leaves
fanning the stream, and
beyond the river, beneath the
neighboring plain,
Meaning
echoes in the warbling cry of
sparrows: the river is more
than it's purpose. The river is
Life.
Stuck in traffic, the impossible
stream, people stuck in cars
clawing at freedom, the
money-hungry American
Dream, arms and legs escape
out the window, reaching for
clouds and dust. Can't dig it.
With one last sip, she starts to slip
her mind is gone, she's lost her grip.
An image came she'll not forget
of hellish anquish in a pit.
She drifted back to childhood years
when she would often play in tears -
her brother's pranks that stranded her
on creekbed rocks, became a blur.
Still farther back in mem'ry past
she saw herself as sinking fast
into a tub of pouring rain
afraid of swooshing down the drain.
And now her mind's eye takes its turn
she flags, unable to discern
her left from right nor up from down;
no color left, all things are brown.
Her hearing's next to take a dip
and then her heart begins to skip.
Her drink was laced with LSD
or opiates in poppy tea?
No real harm done, she saw red lights,
and learned a lesson, learned her rights.
Was it just luck she did not flip?
She never took another trip.
iambic tetrameter
written 4/15/2012
Dumb little boy what happened to You?
A father, a mother, we're through.
Brightly coloured feathers, spread and you flew.
Dumb little boy what happened to you?
Crashed!
*****?
I near.
Sat here, sat here.
We sat, drinking dads warm beer.
Dumb little boy your feathers are gone.
WASTED!
LSD on your toungue.
Obliterated! obliterated!
Wasted! wasted!
Dumb little boy, your brain is fried.
Perfectly twisted.
Now, lets peak inside.
Never needed LSD,
seeing things that could not be,
rejecting my own ESP,
I swim the Sea of Apathy,
traverse the Desert of Ennui,
emotions under lock and key,
internalize the wild banshee.
Toddler's rolled up dungarees,
bemuse the double-amputee,
heart bestrewn with life's debris,
none of us get off scotfree.
Handcuff life's evacuees,
so tender is Humanity.
©Danielle White
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