I never did acid in the '60s,
I hadn't been born;
but what became of the '60s generation
let me see
that
drugs were NOW a form of Control.
The CIA set them up,
excited Revolutions, that spun in circles,
the same circles, then back again:
or to nowhere.
We are ALL one.
In prison,
born into drug culture, born into drugs
without ever having to take them.
The persons that own this country are high,
the cool ones,
we accept, we respect, the cool ones as we are ALL one.
Born into drugs without ever having to take them,
I sneeze lysergide colored mucous,
staring into the sun is a laxative,
while in the first and second grade we'd go to the sink in the back of the class
and swish green fluoride out of the tiny paper cups,
and our school had neighbors that made little flowers, butterflies and birds
out of paper.
All our teachers were underpaid,
the principals were crippled or of the minorities or both,
and one of the janitors was young and was in love with the youngest teacher
and he died.
He'd bring her students candy in the mornings just to talk to her.
In middle school I brought rock cassette tapes to school in a lunchbox
just to feel them with me;
in high school I wrote this poem on the board:
Skies are tanks where the moon sinks fat
and tiny stars tremble like parasitic fish
as they turn and twist in twinkling knots.
The whole world is a prison, and freedom doesn't exist.
Stars are also fleas—bouncing on a dog's
flat head,
trying to lift it.
Who hunts emptiness?
Dogcatchers and astronomers,
hard men, maybe, swallowing tears
the size of keys.
Swallowing lies to belch out the truth.
I wrote quotes from the journals of dead rock stars,
because you can relate to someone dead and feel alone at the same time.
I realized the only way to use drugs was to use them wrong.
And I wrote:
"Withdrawal is a distinction, give it to your brother."
My friends lost control of their bowels,
we couldn't relate to each other as much anymore.
Each of us had too much personal baggage to move into each other's consciousness like that.
My first criticism is to say that this, as rubbish, is too fucking fantastic to read.
It's fantastic enough that I have to smear it on my face instead of reading it
in order to experience it, as orange juice, inside my brain, telepathically.
I've been doing this thing where I have to finish a poem by the time a video on the Internet goes off. When the video's over I just have to work with what I have.
Well it seems to be working. I sort of completely kind of adore this poem, without qualifications.
Below are what I take to be mostly copy editing suggestions. Take or leave, but I think they streamline and strengthen what you're doing:
My Name is Orange Juice
I never did acid in the '60s
because I hadn't been born
but what became of the '60s generation
let me see
that drugs were now a form of Control
set up by the CIA
to excite revolutions to spin in circles
circularly, to nowhere, then back again,
to spin in those same circles, excitedly.
I was born in prison
into drug culture, born into drugs.
In the first and second grade we'd go to the sink in the back of the class
and swish green fluoride out of tiny paper cups,
and our school had neighbors that made tiny flowers, butterflies and birds
out of paper.
All our teachers were underpaid
and the principals were crippled or minorities or both
and one of the janitors was young and in love with the youngest teacher
and then he died.
Before that, he'd bring her students candy in the mornings just to talk to her.
In middle school I brought rock cassette tapes to school in a lunchbox
just to feel them with me.
in high school I wrote this poem on the board:
Skies are tanks where the moon sinks fat
and tiny stars tremble like parasitic fish
as they turn and twist in twinkling knots.
The whole world is a prison, and freedom doesn't exist.
Stars are also fleas—bouncing on a dog's
flat head,
trying to lift it.
Who hunts emptiness?
Dogcatchers and astronomers,
hard men, maybe, swallowing tears
the size of keys.
Swallowing lies to belch out the truth.
I copied quotes from dead rock stars into my journals
because you can relate to someone dead and feel alone at the same time.
I realized the only right way to use drugs was to use them the wrong way.
I wrote:
"Withdrawal is a distinction, give it to your brother."
My friend lost control of his bowels.
We couldn't relate to each other as much anymore.
Each of us had too much “personal baggage” to move into each other's consciousness like that.
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Threads: 57
Joined: Aug 2013
Yeah. Well, we were all brought into the auditorium to eat red tainted sugar cubes. We grabbed them eagerly deeming them LSD. We thought that we would sing and dance with Aldous Huxley, protest with Timothy Leary, ride the bus with Ken Kesey man. But it was a fraud. It was the fraking government infiltrating us the that Salk vaccine. The bastards! Where are all the polio victims now, huh? It was a cleansing, that's what it was.
My new watercolor: 'Nightmare After Christmas'/Chris
That tightens the poem. I had ideas when I was trying to write it, certain ideas like using the tiny paper cups, THE as if to assume that everybody knew what I was talking about and was intimate with those little cups. Making up memories as if they were things everyone remembered.
Tightens or tidies.
The use of the quoted "high school poem" is interesting and effective.
Is it actually a high school poem?
I remember writing things like that, it's just an echo of poems I wrote, I don't remember how the old ones went exactly. The dog part was different, I know. Because that was based on a story I heard about a dog standing on the side of the road trying to pull its crushed head off the ground.
Posts: 65
Threads: 23
Joined: Apr 2014
(04-30-2014, 02:21 AM)rowens Wrote: I never did acid in the '60s,
I hadn't been born;
but what became of the '60s generation
let me see
that
drugs were NOW a form of Control.
The CIA set them up,
excited Revolutions, that spun in circles,
the same circles, then back again:
or to nowhere.
We are ALL one.
In prison,
born into drug culture, born into drugs
without ever having to take them.
The persons that own this country are high,
the cool ones,
we accept, we respect, the cool ones as we are ALL one.
Born into drugs without ever having to take them,
I sneeze lysergide colored mucous,
staring into the sun is a laxative,
while in the first and second grade we'd go to the sink in the back of the class
and swish green fluoride out of the tiny paper cups,
and our school had neighbors that made little flowers, butterflies and birds
out of paper.
All our teachers were underpaid,
the principals were crippled or of the minorities or both,
and one of the janitors was young and was in love with the youngest teacher
and he died.
He'd bring her students candy in the mornings just to talk to her.
In middle school I brought rock cassette tapes to school in a lunchbox
just to feel them with me;
in high school I wrote this poem on the board:
Skies are tanks where the moon sinks fat
and tiny stars tremble like parasitic fish
as they turn and twist in twinkling knots.
The whole world is a prison, and freedom doesn't exist.
Stars are also fleas—bouncing on a dog's
flat head,
trying to lift it.
Who hunts emptiness?
Dogcatchers and astronomers,
hard men, maybe, swallowing tears
the size of keys.
Swallowing lies to belch out the truth.
I wrote quotes from the journals of dead rock stars,
because you can relate to someone dead and feel alone at the same time.
I realized the only way to use drugs was to use them wrong.
And I wrote:
"Withdrawal is a distinction, give it to your brother."
My friends lost control of their bowels,
we couldn't relate to each other as much anymore.
Each of us had too much personal baggage to move into each other's consciousness like that.
Hey Rowens,
I really like this piece. So much so that I started mouthing out the lines in a low murmur while reading. Subject matter is, how we say, boss! And the piece just flows with this curious but undeniable rhythm. Thanks.
TS
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electric kool-aid acid test #1 Orange Crush!
Hey Tony Short, this poem is by "Rowens", not by "Leesharks"
dale
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
Posts: 65
Threads: 23
Joined: Apr 2014
(05-07-2014, 05:32 AM)Erthona Wrote: electric kool-aid acid test #1 Orange Crush!
Hey Tony Short, this poem is by "Rowens", not by "Leesharks"
dale OOps! Soo embarrasing. Sorry to both of you. AAaarggh 
Tony
Posts: 204
Threads: 57
Joined: Jan 2013
rowens,
This is definitely your style, but I see evidence of dramatic change as well. It's weird. You sound alive here.
These lines are quite potent:
I sneeze lysergide colored mucous,
staring into the sun is a laxative,
I'll be there in a minute.
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Joined: Dec 2016
Rowens alive? How peculiar.
dale
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
Posts: 5,057
Threads: 1,075
Joined: Dec 2009
In middle school I brought rock cassette tapes to school in a lunchbox
just to feel them with me;
in high school I wrote this poem on the board:
the above make me feels some kind of kinship.
i did enjoy the poem but felt lost in places. what i always like about your stuff is the originality.
I'm in a hurry to write what I want to write before I keel over and die. Maybe that's what she means by alive.
And middle school is tricky. Some people have Junior High. I had middle school and cassette tapes. Is that what you mean, billy? Middle School and cassette tapes, and cassette tapes in lunchboxes?
I couldn't pay attention in class, I was only interested in finding a tape player.
Records and tape. I cause a lot of arguments now, fussing over what sounds better: C.D.s and whatever; or records and tapes. Records and tapes, especially tapes, have a certain warmth I don't feel in C.D.s and whatever.
Posts: 1,827
Threads: 305
Joined: Dec 2016
"I'm in a hurry to write what I want to write before I keel over and die. Maybe that's what she means by alive."
Maybe, it has been reported in many death and dying studies that a person will report a sense of aliveness just before they die. I have had one experience of this. A contractor who worked for my father told me the day before he died that night, that he felt better than he had felt in years. I have heard this is a feeling often felt by people prior to a life ending hearth attack. So maybe that is what is going on. I guess if you quit posting we will know what has happened. I'm sure some will find it a beneficial piece of trivia. I am not the type to collect such, but there are those who are and I am sure they will be grateful to you for buffering up their conclusions on the subject.
"Records and tape. I cause a lot of arguments now, fussing over what sounds better: C.D.s and whatever; or records and tapes. Records and tapes, especially tapes, have a certain warmth I don't feel in C.D.s and whatever."
Tapes, unless they are digital recordings, have a wider dynamic range because they are analog (if one doesn't know the difference between analog and digital I suggest you do some research). Most people cannot tell the difference. It is the same difference between tube amplifiers and and solid state. Most people who can tell describe analog as warm, and digital as cold. I suspect what they are describing is the saturation of analog opposed to the slotting of digital, analog is simply richer, and as such requires much more space to record. I've never heard a "whatever" but I can confirm the feeling of the difference between digital and analog. Most musicians and other audiophiles can tell the difference and usually have a strong opinion about it. I have musician friends who have spent large amounts of money compiling libraries of analog recordings. Of course today, everything is digital, but it makes little difference as there is little music these days that one would wish to possess.
I went to Jr. High in what most likely was a concentration camp in a prior life. Many committed suicide because it was so overwhelmingly depressive. However, if one managed to survive, one gained an appreciation for such methods, as it made one more resilient to life's inevitable disappointments. One may say it fostered a sense of gallows humor that allowed one to traverse life without the emotional ups and downs that so many seem to experience.
dale
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
I have told many people of my findings regarding my preferences for analogue recording. And they have responded with their findings that my preferences are marks of my being a faggot.
Where I live, being called a faggot, for whatever reason, is equivalent to the do not pass Go, do not collect $200 card in Monopoly. So here I sit, at Go.
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PS Forgot to ask. What is "NOW-CIA-ALL-ALL"? Just wondering as I had never run across it before, or if I had I probably put in one of those boxes I have yet to unpack.
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
The all uppercase letter words are inspired by 1960s poets you may have not read due to excess and overload.
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Joined: Dec 2016
I read Jim Morrison, but it made me want to puke, same with Rod McKuen.
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
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