My Gypsy Crystal Ball – runneth over!
John Saint John
The Bohemian Democratic Register
Friday, January 29, 2010
I wrote a poem for Carol Schurter titled ‘The Fawn’. I do not recall the words, but the theme. Carol was extremely delicate. She was six foot one inch tall and as thin as a fashion model. She had curly blonde hair that poured down from her head on to her long frame. She had a very full mouth, very full lips, and when she spoke she had to get her words past these lips that made her look and sound very sexy. I am sure this is one of the reasons she was kidnapped, held prisoner, and raped.
Carol was Nancy Hamren’s roommate. They rented a two bedroom apartment on Pine street, two block up form Divisidero. Nancy was the first girl I every kissed. We went to Mackenzie Junior High, and Oakland High School. My friend Keith was Nancy’s lover, and I was Carol’s lover.
We used to party with two members of the Jefferson Airplane who made love to their two Swedish Airline Stewardess who rented an apartment down the hall. They made this their home base, they wanting to be part of the greatest party ever thrown. They were in town for a day or two, and were gone. We used to trade drugs. Nancy dated Augustus Owsley after Keith, and thus we had the best.
I took my first acid trip on Pine street. I don’t think it was very potent. I ended up in front of the mirror for hours weighing an apple and a shotgun shell. I am a Libra. I had on the flight jacket Bill’s lover gave me after he died, and had on aviation goggles with hat, a symbol of the Jefferson Airplane. Our friends were getting drafted, and thus there was a real decision to be made, whether or not to run to Canada, or serve. I was weighing some heavy shit in that mirror. I was very young and handsome.
No matter what trouble I found in my mind, when I went to bed, Carol would be there waiting for me. We were extremely loyal to each other for she was sexually blocked due to her rape, and I was a virgin, her beautiful virgin. We could kiss, stroke, and fondle each other, gaze deeply into each other eyes for hours, but the touch of each other’s genitalia happened very rarely, and only for a brief time, before Carol felt repulsed. She would be in tears of frustration, and I would hold her, and reassure her she was so beautiful so wonderful, so satisfying for me, because it began to be the truth. Carol and I did transcend the carnal base to a place that was filled with soft gentle light. In 1965, we awoke to a city filled with this wondrous afterglow that was there due a thousand hippie lovers. Everyone that was there will never forget it.
Sometimes Carol and I wondered together if we were frauds, two fakers, who only pretended to make love, and not war. But then we beheld the way our friends and strangers beheld us. They were in awe of our loving and peaceful energy that radiated from us like sunlight breaking through the trees to the dark forest below.
Carol was really into MDA ‘The Love Drug’. When we lived at the Idol Hands commune, and I am deep in some drug mind game, here come my gentle fawn, making her way through the human trees, carrying her little pipe. And she put it to my mouth, I take a puff, and I am gone, she leading me deep into the forest to her glade.
Our foreplay went on for hours. Sometimes she would have an orgasm, and then try to give me one, but failed everytime. She then let me masturbate. Our foreplay was out of this earth, and would have been the envy of a million women if they had known what The Fawn, and The Virginal Prince of Peace, were up to.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_gL3HTlfW0A
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_gL3HTlfW0A
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_gL3HTlfW0A
QUALITATIVE COMMENTS: (with 100 mg) “The coming on was gradual and pleasant, taking from an hour to an hour and one half to do so. The trip was euphoric and intense despite my having been naturally depleted from a working day and having started so late. One thing that impressed itself upon me was the feeling I got of seeing the play of events, of what I thought to be the significance of certain people coming into my life, and why my `dance’, like everyone else’s, is unique. I saw that every encounter or event is a potential for growth, and an opportunity for me to realize my completeness at where I am, here and now, not at some future where I must lug the pieces of the past for a final assemblage `there.’ I was reminded of living the moment to its fullest and I felt that seeing this was indicative that I was on the right track. “
(with 128 mg)
“Forty-five minutes after the second dosage, when I was seated in a room by myself, not smoking, and where there was no possible source of smoke rings, an abundance of curling gray smoke rings was readily observed in the environment whenever a relaxed approach to subjective observation was used. Visually these had complete reality and it seemed quite unneccessary to test their properties because it was surely known and fully appreciated that the source of the visual phenomena could not be external to the body. When I concentrated my attention on the details of the curling gray forms by trying to note how they would be affected by passing a finger through their apparent field, they melted away. Then, when I relaxed again, the smoke rings were there. I was as certain that they were really there as I am now sure that my head is on top of my body. “
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4_KFebLWpY0
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sky_Pilot_(song)
He blesses the boys as they stand in line
The smell of gun grease and the bayonets they shine
He’s there to help them all that he can
To make them feel wanted he’s a good holy man
Sky pilot…..sky pilotHow high can you fly
You’ll never, never, never reach the sky
He smiles at the young soldiers
Tells them its all right
He knows of their fear in the forthcoming fight
Soon there’ll be blood and many will die
Mothers and fathers back home they will cry
Sky pilot…..sky pilot
How high can you fly
You’ll never, never, never reach the sky
He mumbles a prayer and it ends with a smileThe order is givenThey move down the lineBut he’s still behind and he’ll meditateBut it won’t stop the bleeding or ease the hateAs the young men move out into the battle zoneHe feels good, with God you’re never aloneHe feels tired and he lays on his bedHopes the men will find courage in the words that he saidSky pilot…..sky PilotHow high can you flyYou’ll never, never, never reach the skyYou’re soldiers of God you must understandThe fate of your country is in your young handsMay God give you strengthDo your job real wellIf it all was worth it Only time it will tellIn the morning they returnWith tears in their eyesThe stench of death drifts up to the skiesA soldier so ill looks at the sky pilotRemembers the words “Thou shalt not kill”Sky pilot…..sky pilotHow high can you flyYou never, never, never reach the sky
Rosamond Press 
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