Majic Mushroom Gong

Majic Mushroom Gong

I’m sitting here in this room so bare,
And as I sit I smell the air.
What is this feeling I have inside,
Of butterflies intensified.

Then from my mind this thought does burn.
The deed is done there’s no return.
Then despite this weird sensation,
Joy brings forth this new creation.

What’s this I see? Are the walls on Fire?
Am I singing songs from Billy Liar?
The poster hanging above my desk,
Brings forth faces so grotesque.

Now the ceilings split in two.
Wow trippy man, oh what a view.
The light- was siftering in before,
Is now like laser beams I’m sure.

Now through a vortex I am hurled,
Into a new fantastic world.
Of icicles on a summers’ breeze
Of dragons, gnomes and talking trees.

Then in a dome I fight Cyclops.
But now my plastic bubble pops.
Seas of Pinky blues, ten thousand naughts.
I’m floating through my own dear thoughts.

“PAY YOUR DEBTS?” did my conscience shout.
I dig this scene I’m freaking out.
I wore this trip just like a crown.
But now there’s nought, I’m floating down.

And in my mind.
Just one desire.
On my next trip
To get even higher.

© Kevin A. Deane

To listen to this poem please click on the arrow below.

Another poem written about drugs, actually about a trip. Again I wish to point out that drugs are dangerous and can lead to death and serious mental illness. I include this only for the sake of completeness and to illustrate how mind bending drugs can be.

I The Tripping Butterfly

I The Tripping Butterfly

Echoes of whispering shouts do I hear,
Suspended in time in a chrysalis sphere.
Reminiscence of times when I crawled the ground,
Realizations to skies, I’ll soon be bound.

Encased in a world of wisp woven lace,
In excitement I’m drowning, all without pace.
Exploding the haze the light smashes in
To a new world of splendor my trip I begin.

Floating on air like a will o’ the wisp,
Around me’s the dawn of a new world so crisp.
And whilst I’m so high my thoughts I collect.
Such beauty and splendor I have to protect.

The wings that I have make a glamorous gown,
But now I feel drained so I start floating down.
And of my new world I have started to quiz.
So I shall return now I know where it is.

© Kevin A. Deane

To listen to this poem please click on the arrow below.

Of the drug related poems that I have written this is one of the few that I actually wrote whilst under the influences of drugs or shortly thereafter. Most of my drug related poems are anti drugs by nature and certainly that is my philosophy to be anti drugs.

This poem, which as I said was written whilst under the influence of drugs or shortly thereafter seems to glorify drugs. Please understand this is not my intention. I include it purely so that others may see the attraction without having to actually get involved with drugs.

Let us make no mistakes about this. DRUGS KILL AND drug abuse or misuse is a clear path to death.

He cried, “Oh God, I’m sorry!”

He cried, 'Oh God, I'm sorry!'

The room is still and silent.
Through the window flows a breeze.
On the table sits a bottle.
And there’s a boy there ill at ease.

His face is young but wrinkled.
His eyes are small but deep.
His lips are dry and crinkled,
As he starts his endless sleep.

It was recently, it happened.
He took another’s life.
Now he can’t face his future.
Of pain. And guilt, and strife.

“But I know I had to kill him.
It was either him or me.”
He searched his soul for answers,
But his conscience can’t agree.

He has been his judge and jury.
No mercy has he shown.
His sentence has now started.
So now he starts to groan.

The pills his executioner,
He now accepts his death.
He cried, “Oh God, I’m sorry!”
As he took his final breath.

© Kevin A. Deane

To listen to this poem please click on the arrow below.

For personal reasons I don’t think I want to explain this poem any further than to say that I thank the Lord for the sanctity of life.

H to Die

H to Die

I recall when I first did,
take a powdered form of death.
I think of all the emptiness,
the wait with baited breath.

I’ll have a bit to simply know,
the feeling that it gives.
They say it helps your dreams to grow,
they say it helps you live.

So, of course I had to try some,
Oh it was great at first.
But it was then my war begun,
for I had gained my thirst,

Trips got better all the time.
with the more and more I tried.
But now I have to end this rhyme,
because my friends, I DIED!

© Kevin A. Deane

To listen to this poem please click on the arrow below.

Sadly my journey to Christ involved some drug abuse along the way. This particular poem is but one of the ones that I wrote concerning drugs and I hope and pray that it contains within it a message of warning that will ring out clearly. The accompanying picture is one that really speaks the same message. I hope and pray it speaks to you.