313 of 478

Write now Article Tools

Steak On The Grill

Which way does it go, up or down?
Look at in one way, it spins round and round.
Playing in my head, till I lose control.
Losing balance, just can't keep hold.

Colors psychedelic, like I'm on a trip.
Shapes bend to others, as they slide and slip.
Twisting, turning every which way.
My mind knows the words, that my lips can't say.

Shouldn't have eaten that mushroom, didn't taste too nice.
Growing in the backyard, my mind is frosted ice.
It made my stomach wretch, before I began to fly.
Now I feel real happy, ain't no reason why.

My mind is on a trip, ain't no end in sight.
That tiny little mushroom, began this hippy trippy flight.
Wouldn't be so bad, if I could find my way.
That's the last time I put mushrooms from the backyard on my steak

The colors just keep spinning, it's a crazy little trip.
I guess I really don't mind, it feels like such a rip.
I hope it all slows down soon, so I can get a break.
I have the munchies, they're getting strong,
I want to eat that steak!

Learn more about this author, RC Shivers.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.

Add your voice

Know something about Poetry: Humorous?
We want to hear your view. Write now!