| Barry Fitton Poetry I |
| Swiss Poem Account Collection |
| Poem Account Poets Barry Fitton wylde Craig Moore panta rhei Paul Kren Joshua Griffin Jota judih orphicgoblin |
| Contact the Poet: e-mail: barry8@zonnet.nl |
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| A Modern Odyssey Searching The rain swept streets Of Amsterdam He wandered Into coffee shop After Coffee shop In search of the Ultimate high Selecting by Smell & taste By word of mouth By the look in the eyes Of the many Stoned people That he Met in His quest He moved on Into the night Forever searching He tried Pipes & bongs Vaporizers And many, many Different Types of Joints They were Hand rolled Machine rolled Factory rolled Sweatshop rolled In the back streets Of Calcutta Of Bangkok Of Izmir And Countless Other strange & wonderfilled places around the globe there were long ones thin ones short ones stubby ones fat ones conical & straight ones Different tokes ! For different folks ! Anyway you want it Get you high Joints Highs from Every corner Of the world Africa & India Morocco & Turkey Indonesia & Afghanistan Kazakhstan & Balouchistan Bengal & Mexico From Medocino county To Hidden plantations In the attics Of Amsterdam Kif from The hill around Fez Churse from The mountains of The Hindu Kush Dagga from The plains & Jungles Of Africa Isfahard from Anatolia Temple ball from Nepal and of course that very special sweet & Sticky Hash from the Manali hills All this and more Until at last he found What it was that He was searching for And from that moment he was never ever ever seen again |
| I remember Hasseem Khan I wonder if I can still speak in Purshtu and if the beggar by the cafe dawn still remembers me When I left the mangoes were ripe and the dead child still lay there outside the cafe dawn If you came to Amsterdam we could turn a canal cruise into an orgy of van Gothian lust on the floor of the Escher post office we could metromorph into blues and yellows and then turn off the red lights of Amsterdam and transform them into free fucks for all signs that cover the sky blasting the coffee shops apart with words wetness and screams flooding the streets and canals with whatever cums to play |