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Junior-Highers Bicycled Trip To Seek Hallucinogenic Morning Glories.

Morning Glories are pink, purple, white, and blue--
But they're not necessarily for all to do or view.

The 'Heavenly Blue' and 'Pearly Gates'
Are exactly and psychedelically what it takes.
I was fourteen or so--
If you're curious to know.

I rode my 'Hoffmanesque' bike to Comstock & Ferre*
Where my colorful friend and I were inclined to be merry.
We purchased some seed of white and blue variety
And many actions fluxed a change all within me.

My mind-melded with its inner visions
Coercively changed all of my future decisions--For
I was now of the hallucinogenic mind
And inside insight, I found my poetic kind.

We went to the wild fields by the 'black paved path...'**
Connecting enlightened times with a laugh.
We knew we were by Grandma's and no turning back
From what was happening and its aftermath.
For within her fields were many flowers and plants
And we sought to do a soulful psychedelic dance.

We expressed pulchritude and psyched and twanged and tweaked in the
basement
For these seeds were our philosophically perfected and precipitated
encasement.

I chomped and sucked down the main-line of seeded plant
And thoughtlessly annihilated next year's crop land.
The botany's stigma and flowers so purely white
Were destroyed despite their nature's might.
Now, in Rocky Hill, between the streets of Mountain View and Elm--
There is no flower of 'natural psychedelic realm.'
All of these beauties never optimistically grew back.
We never knew why these swooned and heart attacked.

This was just as well
For my friend, "Oh well!"
Didn't need a trip everyday
And I did not want the brain taxed to pay.
My natural glorious tripping days are gone,
For I only now count lucky clovers on the lawn.
Our first experience was experienced with Hendrix
For it was the music and seeds we picked
So our natural muses were infinitely fused
To a cacophony conversation so amused:

"Of what and I don't know, you know, and whatever, and why..."
For with us, we saw the fusions of music to the fuzz tuned sky.
That day was our purified natural Psychedelic summer of '82
And 'Junior-Highers' and our library research were all we knew,
But it was just us- two tripping the clouds, colors, and sounds alone
And as no two clones, but as a pair of psyched and beauteous drone.
We ultimately forgot to soak the 'Heavenly Blue' bought seeds***
For our desperado didactic psyched to nod and nurse our needs.

We turned with our chained out bikes to expressions ok****
And we are aspiring writers to this drafty drafting day.
We wish to multiply our minds and have much to say
Without being schooled fools with wacky words of cliche,
We tap the throwbacks of inner psyches to know what to say.

Pleasingly enough, I discovered High Times 1993,
50th LSD Hoffman bike ride issue anniversary
At a bookstore, I did savagely thumb through,
Yet- I only read and dropping acid, I didn't do.
The impetuous seeds carried creativity and her muse
Have since allowed my imagination to cruise
To create poetry of rhyme, reason, and rhythm
And now this is where the influence was driven.


*We sought out "Comstock & Ferre & co. as our place to purchase the psychedelic seeds because this Old Wethersfield store was a classic gift shop and plant/seed merchant from the yesteryears. It's symbolic because certain Indians ingested morning glory seeds to become aware and have inner visions as medicine men and to enhance themselves as shamans. After researching through books, I realized the blue and white variety were the kind to have the experience.

**"Black paved path" was a shortly paved path connecting two suburban neighborhood streets, Mountain View with Elm Street. It allowed the various neighborhood kids to walk through like a connector to meet and play in the fields.

***Various local merchants of morning glory seeds were catching on to the 'psychedelic dangers' of ingesting them so they covered them with an antagonist to prevent the tripping, yet I heard if you soak the seeds prior to consummation they are rendered effective.

****Saying that the bikes were now chained is a reference to them not being stolen by anyone or being stolen by a metaphorical acid-like trip because I had read as a "junior-higher" that morning glories were milder forms of a hallucinogenic than say that of laboratory cultivated LSD. I sought to be creative with my friend, but we didn't want to risk the idea of "not coming back." There is a day-April 19th- called "Bicycle Day" in honor of Albert Hoffman's famous bicycle ride & invention of LSD.
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Publication:The American Dissident
Article Type:Poem
Date:Mar 22, 2018
Words:770
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