Archive for April, 1985


Tuesday, April 9th, 1985

0:38 – I want to enfold my choices and potentials today.
– See God breathing as matter. See fate and destiny
twisted as the invisible lace through which we move.

0:48 – The enfolding bliss of being …

1:04 – A state of ecstatic bliss.

1:26 – Wordless

2:31 – All the beauty I own is wasted unless I’m looking at it.

3:02 – The sprinklers came on !

3:12 – Instead of letting the blossoms batter them, they batter the

3:23 – A little lucidity returning now; like glass thru everything.

3:32 – Lise is wood
Lise is like oak
You can touch the earth
in this woman.

3:45 – The stage of redundancies, of making too much out of
everything. You’re everybody’s assailant at once!

I like looking at Lise; she’s looking back.

‘Tell yourself any stories you want
be the kind of man I want!’


4:03 – Telling myself I’m lucid enough to go out. Racquetball sounds

4:30 – If you’ve never opened an orange on acid, its worth the

4:33 – Reconnected the phone.

4:42 – We wrote some silly poetry together
and now we are friends.

There is no peace but the backside of acid.

4:55 – Coming inside. (real time 3 p.m.)

5:55 – Through proofing KH papers.

So what have I figured out
with all this today?
That I love, that I feel
that I care.
What is there to weigh or debate
my poetry is written
like the muscles of my forearm;
it tells the story
of what it has done.
That love should have left
a few scars across these page
I praise God.

Today I called to him
and me … and her
and we laughed at the fountains
of the winds … brimming

I praise God for Love.

6:00 – Hours in.

6:15 – Resuming real time = 4:20 p.m.

4 april 1985

– an acid trip of three tabs

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —


Wednesday, April 10th, 1985

Lise …
What can I capture of you?
The visions I call here before me
defy words to capture them whole.
Brown eyes and a strength like Gibralter,
a heart of compassion, thru and thru.
I want to say something of loving you
but my feelings are all that come through.
These dark eyes and the flickering candles
and the warmth of your skin melting on mine.
The frost of your Gallic composure
and the ache of your mother’s heart showing through.
But I cannot capture you here clearly;
that your strength and compassion are one,
and that the woman who now bends to caress me
is also my friend with a will of iron.

10 April 1985

– at Lise’s

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —


Sunday, April 21st, 1985
         I've seen this sincerity before.
           In Rajneeshism, in EST,
         in anyplace where people are seeking
           as if faith and sincerity
              were the only key.
         There's beauty there, honesty and compassion
           and in their hearts there's the warmth
         of being sure and right.
         Asian faces, Hindus, Christians, Moslems,
           Allah, Jesus, Krishna,
         temples, mosques, cathedrals,
           songs, tithes, offerings, ... and feelings.
         But, can it be so easy?
           Can one be right and another wrong?
         Can one feel their sincerity is genuine
           and, at the same moment, disbelieve another's?
         We are all children in this world
           so full of half truths and glimpses of God's patterns
         and ready to believe we have the whole truth
           the moment we find those who will agree.
         Ready to reject the others
           and feel that God has given US alone the truth
         when, in fact, we have stopped far short of the truth
           which must embrace us all
              as the children of God.
                                    21 April 85

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —