Boletus Satanas

I.  Portabella

Tuesday’s light rain
Fell on achromatic 
Grey swallowed the world
As I lapped my mushroom soup
Cordially 
Amidst patrons of a café
The chatter was annoying
The clanking of silver on china
Consuming the rhythm of
Such heavenly patter
On concrete
Petrichor
I sigh and walk home
With a portabella umbrella
And lukewarm belly



II.  Golden Caps

    'Twas in the forests we played,
        amongst old branches who sway,
        wind blowing directly through us.

    As psilocybe took effect,
        we ran nakedly erect;
        visions and senses to discuss.

    As our ancestors spoke,
        and we giggled and joked,
        the hues of the spirits were thus.

    Metallic hours dragged on,
        oblivious birds in song,
        till the darkening night blew buss.



III.   Black Trumpet

Imagine the structure of man’s beauty,
it's building of stone labored,
it's ancestral tears,
it's chronicles and accounts
        Of love and struggles,
        Of hardships and wonders,
        Of passion and art:
        Gone.

Erased in flash,
in expanding clouds;
billowing,
waving goodbye to the heavens
when they become too smart 
for their own good,
      Will god spare atom?


Or will man forgetfully blow away
as they daintily eat soup in cafés?



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triptych
In poetry a Triptych should be three distinct poems that can stand on their own, but bring a deeper meaning when combined as a whole.