Psy-Poems. About our community, the spirit, the music, the hopes and dreams, the feeling of it all.
and so let it begin because…
..some call it crazy
some unnatural
some think it’s just stupid
some just turn away
some try but will never understand
some better never try
some don’t have ears to listen
some no brain to think
a few know about the secret
the drug
the common heartbeat
the beauty
and the pain
you too are confined
forever with those shimmering ties
to our common magic
friendship
passion
and universal community
called PsyTrance
_____
See with what constant motion
Bizarre, psychedelic as the sun
Mountain’s decks drive those lithe frames
That gave each turn of digital domain
And swifter than the wings of fame.
Dancers beat the willing pavement
By such a stars in the firmament
Which even they envy for the beat
Swelling into ever intenses of heat
The dance always remaining incomplete.
Each step trod out a lover’s thought
Of the ambitious forlon hopes we brought
Enchained such to the sonic arts
Ever rising by fits and starts
The inflaming passion of our hearts.
_______
The psychedelic days have come,
the bestest of the year
Of flailing drums, and naked bass,
and psytars all a’cheer
Heaped in the sonics of the sound,
the bassline strummed ahead
Those dancers to the eddying gust,
they find their acid head
Astrix finds the Audiotec,
the Misted Puppet plays
And from the DJ’s fingertips,
all gloom is sent away.
_______
Irish Komotoze liked the psy
He liked it so much he could cry
Then he heard Shoomy’s mix
He then had his fix
So good he thought he could fly
_______
Is Morlack taking us on voyage down memory lane?
Or is it instead of trip of getting psychedelic insane
that past melds with present, future to be
swirling and twisting, reaching out there for thee
grabbing horizon edges of reality,
twisting, swirling, still undoing me
until universe becomes a tie-die fabric
against which and on which with a hatrick
emotion, thought, feeling and premise,
conclusion, birth, death not to be remissed
sway to and fro, forward and back,
attaining a transcendency within no lack
shapes the very essence of future and fate
inflaming dreams are what we do trade
_________
Mushrooms, music,
forest and lights
We all get together
To dance through the nights
In altered states,
of magic and wisdom
we all smile and dance
to the queens of the kingdom!
_________
Psy angel
Woman of my dreams
Hemp sandaled
There is none like you among the dancers
None with such deft fingers.
I have not found you in the tents
In the broken darkness
I have not found you in the crowd
Among the women with glowsticks.
Your arms are as a young sapling under the bark
Your face as a river with psychedelic lights.
You guard the decks
Watching carefully
Bringing the gift
Of the psytar.
________
A little love, of psychedelic music go
And then we go, what matters it? Since where
Or when, or how, none may a priori know
Nor if love comes or goes, or lingering slow
Send on ahead the herald of psy love.
On this gray life, love lights with silvery glow
Refracted from music’s source, the wings winged slow
Its glory surrounds us, and DeCibelle’s music bestow
A little love!
A little, it’s as much as we may bear
For Deccie’s love is compassed with such magic air
She breathes it fully and selflessly so
The fans all but taste that overflow
For little lives, the minor dose she can spare
A little love!
On this bright horizon, she alights with wings fair
Gossamer being she is, with golden blonde hair
Psychedelic treats she shares them all fair
A little love!
_________
Where is the flower, the fair young Deccie, that lately sprang and stood
In brighter lights and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood?
Ah, she is here, sprightly, fair, herself a gentle blossom
And psytars she brings us all, edgy, sharp, and awesome
The rain recedes, its bowing, its curtseying away
It knows to not be welcome here, Deccie has come to stay.
The wind-flower and the violet, they can’t hold a candle
To DeCibelle’s sweet countenance; nor music of Handel
Can hold sway to psychedelics, she brings them openly
Jumpy, bouncy, bassy tuneage, fears goes disarmingly
Sweet lovely flower she remains, mixing tunes aplenty
A favorite among hippies, fans, and cognoscenti.
Goa Project
“Psypoetry”
http://www.goa-project.com/psy_poems.html
