Friday

I’m sitting here waiting

An envelope in the sky

It has my name on it

It arrives with a sigh

The trees are all swaying

But there is no wind

I opened the envelope

And sound came from within

A cough of a cloud flew by

As the envelope sang

But I’ll never tell you

What it told me in rhyme

The air is so shiny

And thick in a way

It flows like a river

And blows through my eye

A white coated Mantis

Standing near ten feet tall

Is reading a large old book

My I wonder why

A red yellow jeep drove by

And the driver said “Hi”

I got in beside him

We drove to the sky

When we reached the clouds up there

We left our bodies behind

The air is so light up here

Its so hard to fly

A deamon below us

His wings beating hard

Such furious frustration

In the heat of its stare

Seven cloud hills above us

We climb slowly and smile

The people below us

Laugh all the while

A castle of wood and stone

That’s not really real

Is glowing and swaying

It just wont hold still

We change our direction

From here to straight up

What we are looking for

Is still not clear yet

Three wounded hounds from hell

Fall past like some rocks

I turned my head away

My friend turned and watched

The clouds began raining

And lightning to flash

The thunder was rolling

Around in my head

“Who wants to smoke a joint”

Some curly hair said

The cold and the wind and rain

And then comes the sun

Time now returns to square

Concrete neon within

But still flying very far

We begin the bequine

This matrix of human thoght

Brings wonder and pain

But soon crystal mountain

Is singing again

Lightning in waves of space

And thunder in time

I duck down below this place

And fish for a dime

Three levels below I go

To look for the golden glow

Reflected a thousand times

In the light and dark flow

Confused I climb in the jeep

But where is my friend?

I think he has found his own

And he’s around the next bend

 Comments:

 Lot to say about this poem.  I wrote it when I was 17 starting during a high school class on creative writing with the best school teacher I’ve ever had Russell Hill.  He actually taught a night time class on science fiction and wrote the book and work book to go with the class.  How he convinced the higher ups to let him do that is impressive and I doubt that would be allowed today but this was in 1975 a far more innocent time.  Since he drove past the street I lived on he used to give me a ride to and from class.  Got nothing but A’s from him but as an aspiring writer I wrote 100’s of pages for the assignments over the 2 semesters.

  This poem is far more autobiograghical then it sounds.  It also is came out in a flow during the course of the morning and afternoon and has required very little editing.  First of all an older cousin introduced me the super clean Owsley LSD.  The kind of thing you only need to to once. So the next day in high school (Hahaha) this higher reality unfolded.   I did have a good friend with a red yellow jeep that we took of road and the mantis being were part of my alien abduction.  The part about the curly haired friend who shared  a potent doobie at lunch break and then returning to class and the lightning storm there at Redwood high school are all real.  This was in Larkspur Ca. next to mount Tamalpais the sleeping lady.