non compos mentis

non-compos-mentis

Non compos mentis

…and here I sat once long ago, when the cold bit my cheeks and fingers
and I bounced my leg up and down to keep my toes from falling off
and I thought of you to keep from going crazy…

…and then a voice from within whispered in your ear
and there you were in front of me, laughing like you used to do and I smiled too, and I smiled and smiled and stared up at the sky and kept looking until you were gone…

…and the sound of your voice lingered a moment and then
vanished like a UFO…

…or a dark secret

 

 

Boston Paul
2003
Taichung, Taiwan

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You can Follow the Militant Hippi/Boston Paul on Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/BostonPaul
or
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MilitantHippi

 

 

Published in: on March 22, 2016 at 12:44 AM  Leave a Comment  
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Ride (A Poem by a Younger Me)

I’ve been writing since I was old enough to hold a pen.  I wrote this as I was getting ready to get out of the army…. I was about 21.

 

Ride

I love to ride at night

Moving with the flowing wind

Feeling on top of the world

Feeling like I never sinned

 

I love to ride at night

The feeling of being alone

It’s just me and the highway

It’s just me all alone

 

The night, the night, the flight, the fight

 

I love to ride at night

Harley taking care of me

I don’t know where I’m going

I don’t care as long as I’m free…

 

Gypsi

March 18, 1989

Published in: on January 22, 2016 at 10:45 AM  Comments (1)  
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Pathetic Prose & Panty Hose

Gypsi

This one is for those who have been shamed or humiliated because of the way they dressed or acted.

We are free to do what we want – as long as we don’t hurt others.

Don’t push your morals and religious beliefs on me

Cause if you do, expect – at the very least – a verbal smack down.

My band will be making this into a song soon… but here are the lyrics:

If you don’t like it… don’t look.
If you don’t like it.. don’t listen.
If you don’t like it… fuck off.

I’m a Slut, a Whore, I’m Kinky Galore
Self Confident
with a slight sprinkle of arrogance
Adamant
and I love to Dance

I’m Skilled, Strong Willed, a fine bottle of Wine just chilled.
That’s me don’t you see?
I love to dance – around the Sounds of Ignor-ance
I’ll take a chance wearing mini skirts instead of boring pants

Say what you want to say about my sexy selfies
Like you’re wealthy
And I’m a serf on your turf
Like the only Blonde Smurf
Surrounded by stuffed shirts and perverts

I suspect, it’s because of neglect
They get no pussy or dick now it’s time to reflect
Why so uptight? Cause you’re alone at night?
Or you just love to fight about shit you think is right

So think about it now
Why are you having a cow?
Over a picture or two
Who offends who?

We do crazy shit while we’re young and cool-ish
While we’re silly and foolish
So when we’re 85 (and still alive)
We can look and see what we’ve done
And remember The Good Ol’ Days and all the fun.

Fuck the nay-Sayers, with their anti gay-prayers
Like Dragon Slayers when at heart they’re ALL Players.
Fuck The Hypocrite, they’re full of shit, as useful as a just popped zit
Spouting their hate, makin’ us irate,
How can they celebrate – when they’re anti-masturbate?

I Seek Answers
from Holy Dancers
who get on their knees
not to pray but to please
They sweat and writhe and jump about
They move and groove and scream and shout
And as they move, I begin to grind
and grind and grind until I’m blind
and then I find the Book of Psalms
and wear the hair off of my palms…

And as I’m about to cum I see the light
I see the plight
of the religious ones
the self-righteous bums,
who feel guilty every time they cum and hum:
I love you Jesus (now get on your knees and please us!)
after you turn water into wine
then walk on water in your robes so fine…

Then

You Raise the dead
Give me head
Cure disease
Kill the Fig Trees (Mark 11:12)
Hang on a Cross
Because the Boss
Is your Dad
But isn’t it sad?
That those who believe
have been deceived
then push their beliefs on others
When we’re all really sisters and brothers…

Dogma’s tail a waggin’
Fate’s Lips a Braggin’
Destiny’s tits a draggin’
Karma’s horn a wailin’
Life’s Ship a -sailin’


You know everyone loses
When one chooses
To be mean to those with whom they disagree
When they could just look away, see?
or turn the other cheek
and be meek…
…cause that’s what their god commands
But no one who believes really understands
how to be passionate about being compassionate.

SERIOUSLY?

A Selfie in a dress can cause so much duress?
Like an assault with a knife
Is it a threat on your life?
Fuck that pressure, negativity and strife

Offended? Who cares?
What does it mean?
Who makes the rules?
The King or The Queen?
Offended? Why so?
It is yet to be seen
Your Obscene is NOT my Obscene.

We are FREE People.
Stop being Sheople staring up at a steeple!
Put up or shut up.
I’m getting fed up
With the opinions, the judging, the holier than thou
Buck up you fuck up it’s gonna stop now

A little empathy is Good in the Neighborhood…

[music coming soon]

*******************************************

You can Follow the Militant Hippi/Boston Paul on Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/BostonPaul
or
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MilitantHippi

You Might also like to read:

What is a Friend?  https://bostonpaul.wordpress.com/2012/08/13/who-what-is-a-friend-really/

Non-Compos-Mentis

()

()

…and here I sat once long ago, when the cold bit my cheeks & fingers

…and I bounced my leg up & down to keep my toes from falling off

…and I thought of you to keep from going crazy

…and then a Voice from within a Soul whispered in your ear

…and there you were in front of me, laughing like you used to do

…and I smiled, too

…and I smiled and smiled and stared up at the sky and kept looking until you were gone

…and the sound of your Voice lingered a moment and…

 
vanished like a ufo…

 
or a Dark Secret…

 

Gypsi 

AKA  Boston Paul

Taichung, Taiwan

 2003

Published in: on February 5, 2010 at 1:41 PM  Leave a Comment  
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PROSE: Universe Within

AN ENERGY STARTING FROM HIS TOES, worked its way through his body…
Through his intestines, through his arteries replacing his blood with honey.
This energy worked its way through his liver, his spleen, his stomach, and alas his heart.
It moved slowly from his bosom, to his throat and then finally to his head where the cells in his brain began to bounce off each other in a frenzy.
The neurons in his cerebrum transmitting at the speed of Light…
Allowing different perceptions of Reality throughout the brain.
The raphe system discerning what realities he would and would not perceive…
And then alas when he saw everything at once, he thought he would explode and he welcomed it.
He wanted to explode with a happiness he could not explain.
He knew now.
He had the Answer to give to the masses.

He finally realized that he was Alive…
And before he realized the populous Would not, Could not, understand this message, he started to cry out…
But it was too late.

They looked at him scornfully as they walked by.
They crossed the street when they saw him coming.
They laughed at him behind his back and to his face.
They pointed at him and sneered.
Mother’s grabbed their children and pulled them away.

He opened his mouth and let the message come out and the people became frightened and began to fight.
Like ants scurrying about in confusion when their path is interrupted.

A Chinese fire drill.
A hive of angry bees.

Thorns upon his Head.

A wound in his side.

Drinking hemlock for corrupting the Youth.
Dancing with Bella Donna and Atropos.
The thread of life still dangling.
He stretched and cast a suffering shadow upon the ground.
Appearing as though it were hung from a tree.
Spindles driven into his limbs.
He does not cry out now, he has felt the happiness and longs to feel it again.
He looks upward as the honey runs like a stream, a river, down his body.
Flowing from his side. Dripping from his brow.
Exuding from his hands and feet.
He looks upward, and the echo of the Voice still rings in his ears,

…and is still ringing in his soul.

 

Published in: on January 18, 2010 at 3:14 AM  Leave a Comment  
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