Piping Down the Valleys Wild, 1789
Piping Down the Valleys Wild Piping down the valleys wild Piping songs of pleasant glee On a cloud I saw a child. And he laughing said to me. Pipe a song about a Lamb; So I piped with merry chear, Read More …
Tag: poem
Roses of a Dream, 1908
“loving a haze of hasheesh for making the brain go wrong” -Damon Runyon Alfred ‘Damon Runyon’ ROSES OF A DREAM Many songwriters have woven there love of cannabis into their art. But before Guthrie and Dylan there was Damon Runyon. Read More …
The Smoke Off, 1972
The Smoke Off In the laid back California town of sunny San Rafael Lived a girl named Pearly Sweetcake, you prob’ly knew her well. She’d been stoned fifteen of her eighteen years and the story was widely told That she Read More …
Chloroformic Visions, 1861
Chloroformic Visions Love the poetic writing in this article. They just don’t write the same anymore… “My last sane recollection is of the surgeon applying the handkerchief to my mouth” “So swift are the evolutions of thought Read More …
Lost in Exquisite Intoxication, 1884
“I turn, I twist, I twirl. I melt, I fade, I dissolve. No diaphanous cloud is so light and airy as I. I admire the ease with which I float. My gracefulness fills me with delight. My body is not Read More …
Jamestown Weed, 1676
“If a man, after anointing his ligham with the mixture of the powders of the white thorn apple (Datura stramonium), the long pepper, the black pepper and honey, engages in sexual union with a woman, he makes her subject to Read More …
The Tempest
“The charm dissolves apace, And as the morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason.” – William Shakespeare, The Tempest
To Earthward
To Earthward Love at the lips was touch As sweet as I could bear; And once that seemed too much; I lived on air That crossed me from sweet things, The flow of—was it musk From hidden grapevine springs Downhill Read More …
Where the sidewalk ends, 17th Century
“There is a place where the sidewalk ends And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the Read More …
Taste the Hashish, 1778
“When you return to this mundane sphere from your visionary world, you would seem to leave a Neapolitan spring for a Lapland winter – to quit paradise for earth – heaven for hell! Taste the hashish, guest of mine – Read More …