To All Hippies, Heads, and Beatniks Raised by wolves, verses of ashes in the fetish furnaces Burning the flesh of poetry as witnesses reveal mantra utterances Moose medicine illusions that ego can ruin your sense of accomplishment We all teach each other in some way, the spirit of silence in your magick Magick always rules the one mind of the universe of dreams of God Men of magick loves the desperate women, hugs the souls of maidenhood The passing of the flame of sisterhood the intimate voyeurism, spectacle of shame The gift of life-giving motherhood to a love child growing up in the neighborhood Women now days aspire to be porn stars while the men want to be rock stars playing the game To the hippies and freaks of the week, Richmond VA 1994- 2001 running the street Weed dealer of street smarts and first Friday art walks, red keg cups of nightlife Promiscuous as collage kids keeping their perversions hid like an undercover sex life With a bootleg bottle of booze and sandals on their feet, head full of acid in the ghetto heat The best black market kind bud and beautiful hep cat chicks' poetry beatniks with red lips Drinking in the all-night bars until 6 am listing to the morning birds chirp past the parked cars Connected to the church of the riff raff belly laugh of gospel blues house music sound bath Tangled up in dreadlocks, disco night at Twisters, cooking grease blisters, punk rock to dub Reggae to hip hop, goth to shoegaze, retro to disco, jam band to bluegrass, blues to rap Colorado head shops of dab rigs, peace pipes and kava leaves, rasta hats and incense trays And create a new way to get high and alternative vibrations with cosmic intentions, space hippies hanging out on the rings of Saturn taking medicine with Sun Ra Banging the gong while hippies hit the bong, magickal formula of chaos in a jazz song Beautiful woven world of mirth tough mama earth staring at the fire around the hearth Smoking futuristic strains of dispensary bends like mother hens sitting on eggs Love in outer space, hugs and space drugs, space girls with long shiny legs, smoking the morning joint of wake n bake for art's sake holding my head high To All Hippies, Heads, and Beatniks
