From: john2162@verizon.net   
      
   Ikjewr,   
     Yes that was Poe, and it sort of fits with the notion of people going   
   through what one writer called " The Doors of Perception," forgot who that   
   was just now.  Anyway Since we are working with beliefs, emotions and   
   hormones and all that good stuff in this process, I want to throw in this   
   poem that I wrote durring a very emotional time in my life when I was first   
   away from home and in the far north of Alaska trying to grow up as fast as I   
   could and have some adventure in the process, and , in my case, as is with   
   you folks, enchanted by the call of another sort of adventure.   
     I would be interested to hear if any of these images strike a chord of   
   familiarity.   
      
   This is a poem  about attempting trance.   
      
   Runway Lights:   
      
   Internal starbursts fill the night   
   as my ship begins its evening flight.   
   Little puffs of energy mark   
   my engines liftoff out of park.   
   Spontanious images flash on the screen   
   as my ship fights to avoid the dream.   
   They ask from the tower for their due communion   
   so I repeat their name to temporarily sooth them.   
   I turn my objectoscope every which way   
   holding conversation, spontanious dreams at bay.   
   Deep down I hear my engines roar,   
   a sign that soon my soul will soar.   
   I tune into vibrational control,   
   for coordinates, and begin to roll.   
   Increasing the power to complete the trance   
   at this point I learn to dance.   
      
   John Chilton   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)