A Guide 4 Those New 2 The Psychodelicide

it’s been roughly 3 years since I’ve started this blog. it’s rather hard to believe. what started of as just a place to post whatever i wanted has grown into….me posting whatever i want.

okay, so that aspect hasn’t changed. but through the years, and over 200 posts later, i’ve written many different kinds of stories with a wide variety of different styles & genres that tackle many different topics.

as the Year Of Our Lord twothousandeighteen (a year that barely even sounds real), I’ve been taking a look back at past posts, some I’ve amazingly forgotten about until I saw them. So that’s it.
If you are a new follower/visitor to this site, here a couple of my favorites to give you an idea of what’s been going on here the past few years & what you may expect to see in the future.
And if you aren’t new, please join me in this trip down memory lane.

Again, this is only a small collection. If I were to post all of my “favs”, this list would go one forever. But these are all good starting points, older posts. The recommendations can lead to more posts and I encourage you to check out some the newer posts too!

While we’re at it, this would be a good time to mention my Soundcloud. (also a link on my WP page under “Purple BeBop”. There are quite a few original tracks on there already but I’m in the works of creating more in-depth works of art, including EPs and eventually a full album. So stay tuned!

Thanks for reading and I hope you will continue to follow me during my artistic journey!

Feedback (especially comments) are always appreciated.

Peace & B Wild,

The Author

 

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Cream

pop will go your spot when the fervor gets a little too much

if it’s just some kind of fling

then why does purple electricity appear whenever my mind thinks of The Thrust?

trust. when i tell you that
something inside of me is chugging ’round like a train
something inside of me, all up in my membrane
what is the meaning of this purple-charged lust?

it can’t be ignored so i guess, i guess….
I Must

with your consent
we’ll both be content

the beast with two backs
an aroma of fresh coffee in the air
with a side of Cream

silky & sweet
goes down smooth
if you know what i mean

a kind of dream
just fun, nothing ethereal
take the superficial and let it drop
& let’s get on with the ShaBoogie-Bop





Daily Prompt: Sparkle

Swinging Ditty from a Misunderstood

[Author’s note: best if song is played when shown]


an Irish’d-coffee to warm the belly on an overcast morning. no plans for the day. a kind of day where casual walks takes me to wherever my feet decide, without a care in the world. While absentmindedly staring at my phone, a peculiar sound caught my ear.

[snap    snap    snap    snap    snap]

there he was. standing under a small pine tree on top of a hill.

a teen boy in skinny jeans and a tshirt 3 sizes too big, singing out in a booming baritone with a growling edge, snapping fingers keeping a steady groove…

taking another sip, I listened to what he had to say:

I’m Mr. Big Mouth
At least, that’s what the legend states
Oh, Mr. Big Mouth
Nothin’ ever ever goes my way

As far back as third grade
teachers always would say
“Boy, ya ain’t nothin’ but trouble,
keep runnin’ ya mouth ya gonna get a muzzle!”

Not stopping to think maybe, just maybe
I was just a wee bit afraid

Not stopping to question, “Hey
maybe this kid knows a lil something about just how fucked up life is!
maybe we should [perhaps] do more than grill him [oh gosh maybe!]
about why he didn’t bother [who even cares?]
to finish his pop quiz!”

But noooooo, they called me Big Mouth
too smart for my own good
and the legend grew
throughout my childhood

I’m Mr. Big Mouth
just tryna make my way
Oh, Mr. Big Mouth
clashin’ with the birds of prey…..

i couldn’t help but notice that behind him was a high school in session & it was 10:30am on a weekday.
i walked over to him, so transfixed, i didn’t even question where the horns were coming from.

a general life rule of mine: if a street musician makes you stop and listen for a moment, you owe them a dollar.
i gave him $100.

THank y-you SO M-m-much,” his voice squeaked out, a puberty-wrecked contrast to the rumbling resonance of his song. He stuffed the bills in a pocket of a tattered bookbag that lay by his feet, overflowing with crumpled school papers. He flashed me a bright blended smile that revealed naivety with an undercoat of Sly.

i tipped my coffee to him with a grin and continued on my way. i heard a rhythmic snapping begin again as he faded away with distance.

I’m Mr. Big Mouth…





instrumental song credit: All Bets Are Off [Cuphead Soundtrack]

Come Bathe With Me

on this day, the Year of our Lord 2017, the 8th day of a month with no meaning

even after all this time here on this planet, I can still feel the deepdark sticky-icky clinging to my skin and mucking up my soul

truths untold. pure lies unfold.

unfolding on a tapestry made of the hair follicles falling from my head from stresses that need not to exist
i guess you could say i’m pissed

Anger, an emotion so powerful, it’s hard to resist
but to admit that such an emotion is necessary goes against every lesson i’ve been taught since birth

on days like this, i wish The Sun would shine, so bright it’d make me color blind
but the grey overcast skies offers little more than the hope that Our Lord will cry and rain down upon us, upon me

i’d stand in the downpour, wearing whatever fragments of cloth i happen to be wearing at the time, face up
the Holy Liquid dripping and flowing over my face, blinding me in a way-
not color blind
but leaving me, us, caught in time
human eyes closed, 3rd eye open, seeing things beyond…

ah but alas. on this day, i see no calmness from The Sun nor The Water

only grey.

in times like this, it is unfair to expect Mother Nature to give us everything needed at any given moment. She is busy, extremely overworked; and if recent events plaguing the U.S. and the rest of the world is any indication, she’s fed up and tired.

can’t say i blame her.

its time that i, we, make our own Holy Liquid to purify that deepdark sticky-icky
that affects us all, whether or not you’re aware of it

like a stranger in moscow, i’m still trying. trying to figure out how to break this curse mankind has created for itself. Mother Nature may have the answers, but we, mortals, don’t stand a chance of what’s to come.

UNLESS

we find our own way of purification. somehow i, We, have to get Mother Nature to trust us again.
but how….?

if i could i would give you the answers
but all i can do
is just offer you
this chance

to come bathe with me

Daily prompt:     Crescendo

HiddenPlace

i went looking & found something
something i’d been looking for

oh, something that’s been on my mind
today, yesterday & so many days before

i found what i was looking for
for no other reason than to seek validation
towards a concept i deplore

i can’t feign the funk, its always been there
no sense in being enthralled by a faux chaotic figment of lust

still i can’t ignore the thoughts of you
that float by my eyes every time a dove cries

they always take me by surprise
sets me afloat to who knows where
a place far off in the future….or before

who knows
i’m not counting the days anymore

flowerbud
flowerbud

wherefore art thou, bloomage?

The Old Familiar

The Moon set on my mind one evening

was nary a star nor body in the sky
what was once was bright
is now a strinking inky onyx glare…

Oh, how that that big Ol Light hanging up there
would light up this stubborn heart of mine

but now I’m wondering….

(sometimes old items are best left undusted
maybe it was just a phase
one of us are best left untrusted)

wondering if there’s someone out there who even cares

Tears fall gently from my lashes
dripping away on a patch of  withering ashes
my former garden
flowers… colors corroded away from their former of eminence

No sense in staying if my tears aren’t enough to water you