I pound on the walls that bind me here— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
but they never lessen
my Age, Death, Insight …
the incandescent realizations of chances lost,
of the permanence of change,
they come and dance to me
when I stare in the mirror
ever step is more fraught with irrevocability
as I go forward
because I have so much more to lose
its always less the open slate now
and more the written Word … the patterns born,
and crucified, and calcified,
and finally … owned.
And though I pound on my walls
and drink the wine of these thoughts
into the depths of night…
it is.
04-29-80/2
Archive for the ‘Long Beach’ Category
1980-04-29
Tuesday, April 29th, 19801980-07-11
Friday, July 11th, 1980The echos are nice— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
if you keep a clean house.
We each hear our note amid the rest
and so listen … raw note.
…and if the cloth is to be frawth with meaning
and I do it here … then where else?
calling’ bottom line … dropping’ acid
and if it’s just because I dropped?
In an acid trip any reflection is a glare.
Why is it, on acid, I can feel being
give rise to being
like that warm fire that rises from my stomach
and invades every fiber.
Men I can respect are beginning to form pictures
around me … Bach, Rajneesh …
I’ve been thru the ones who write about it
It is! It’s with what respect we give it.
07-11-80 (lsd)
1980-07-11
Friday, July 11th, 1980Witnessing can be done anywhere.— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
So nothing needs be done
no need to begin …
Amid the drifting sheets
of the afternoon’s suchness
three o’clock calls
A day starts as an accolade
and then drifts to mixed reviews
those that applaud the rise
and those who mourn the fall
so every act
… moment… person… thought…
07-11-80/2 (lsd)