One: The Brain Storm

A Chapter by Egst

Dear old Stan--the mellow tripster--slides his thought. (Please note that any texts published in this book are not final and may be edited.)

It all began
you see
when dear old Stan
he be
the fellow tripster
--mellow hipster
reached our side
while still inside
our ride
with little talk
as time to time he did
being rather speaky folk
His thought has slid
that When we stay
and pray
all day
to old God
--that bloody sod
he crawls his way to ones
who spare some will and sins
Since it was a little child,
obsessed with human mind
--a puppet master of mankind
Old dog
him holly Bog
Godly decent flows around
--should i mention that about
the fact, that may it sound
like us worshiping The Cloud
As The Cloud it was then meant
as I soon have really learnt
What he said,
it tickled bad
at the back of my bald head
made me trip to flipp and stand
and to raise my shaky hand
As we all now understand
it was all about that plan:
To go upfront
Said dear old Stan
And to confront
Almighty Land
Intentions pure
--a clear mind’s view
His thought slid right
Sure there’s no fright
without a fight,
but who’s to cry,
when birds can fly
His haunting thought slid into mine
that one can’t fall to distant Cloud
with proper heavenly light’s shine
entrapped in wall,
thoughts slide aloud
about
the sound
of Cloud
around