Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I'd love something apotheogenic to get me out and unto
escapism, like some speed or *****. Halloween came
knocking again, the memories of her were so far away
it didn't matter. Give me an apotheogen over love

any day, the comedown/withdrawal is
more tolerable, I wanna be blown far far
away, adjust glutamate and GABA to keep
those fabled excitatory and inhibitory forces
bent to my pain; for which I'm responsible.
I hate having to curb my own autonomy.

I simply cannot fathom my own reason anymore
and it's conclusions are
killing me. "My mind
to your mind, my thoughts
to your thoughts". Of us three
which'll you trust? Psychonaut,
Dissonaut, or oneironaut. All this talk
of associatives, dissociates and spontaneity
has me lost. How will you find your way about?
Quote:
Lines Thirteen, Fourteen and Fifteen are taken from the Vulcan mind-meld performed by Spock in Star Trek: TOS.
452 · Jan 2016
Nothing Owed
I was standing at my laptop, tripping, when the thought hit me: the reason we're so infatuated with technology is born of our yearning for control. What a lovely illusion to cherish, knowing does not detract from its merit; it sedates me wonderfully.

Ah but perhaps that's why Facebook is so addictive, as it lies in between ours and others spheres' of control. We push and pull, trying to hang on to these puppet personas. It's unendingly stimulating.

Virtuality offers us everything, and it's easily abused. So,
Here's something to always remember about the internet:

Once you put something online/out there it is no longer yours.

Yes, this applies to your words, you cannot control interpretations
nor can you prevent the theft of your world. Unlike reality,
Virtuality knows nothing of material scarcity,
The limit's the bandwidth and there be pirates aboard.
What am I if not begging for someone to come steal me? Take me away!

I don't have a name, all you can desecrate are these emotions I crave.
I'm writing these things because it stops me from killing somebody but
by all means, appropriate me, my work, my words, my world.

Maybe you'll add a bit of value to it, and god loves a data-*****.

On a final note, sometimes I am really afraid to be myself
because sometimes I think I'm a monster;
But I am getting better.


So there you go.
Title taken from the song by Bonobo.
450 · May 2019
Soothsayer, Remember Now
Part of me would like to go back
and delete
all the pain
and suffering
hastily transcribed
by someone looking
for that real betterness;
But I'll polish it
and let it sit here. Shh,

It's OK
to be in the past
for a time but, what's past
should remain; makes me feel unsafe
when things creep into the present's domain,
Things to make me heave and sigh.
I rest on this chair, in the glib darkness, and
hear the city breeze
of automobiles' afar off accelerations
become those comforting rustles
that carry through the wind.
The dusk sky has dipped.
I'm left wondering
after my travels this weekend.
450 · Oct 2016
"Never Look Away"
“To love. To be loved.
To never forget your
own insignificance.
To never get used to the unspeakable violence
and the ****** disparity of life around you.

To seek joy in the saddest places.
To pursue beauty to its lair.
To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple.

To respect strength, never power.
Above all, to watch.
To try and understand.
To never look away.
And never, never to forget.”
―Arundhati Roy
450 · Jul 2016
Interrogations
Time changes people,
Power chains people.
What changed in me?
Whatever chained me!
Oh subtle judgement
and standard teleology,

Tell me:
Is the world
worth pondering,
Or is this all just
time wasting?
Thinking,
Longing;

Ruminating over purpose,
Contemplating loneliness,
Tell me: what am I typing?
These poems used to be my
escape, my passion, carefully
constructed as words were con-
-verted from temporal lifeblood
into digital ink which still I spill
over, the words trying, to find
something worth posting for
but sometimes it feels as if I
am not obsessing over these
sentences enough to pick up
the pieces, unapologetically I
throw out another uninspired
verse. Poetry's best not thought of
as work and therein lies the problem:

Me,
Writing the same poem
for the umpteenth time,
It feels like we've been
here before but can't seem
to remember; of which this piece is
a perfect example, disinspiration.
Of times, change
and a poet's written
interrogations, no regrets.
The question of what next is put to my wandering mind.
I may meander through a couple analgesics, anxiolytics,
or tread cautiously through an odd assortment of spices.
Alas, there are still so many trips, yes, I hear the Entheon
calling, calling out my name: "Mydriasis, come home to me".

Lets reexamine this phenomenon, of entheogenesis, whyever
it should be so spiritual for some
but no longer for me

is our question: an ethnology.
Earendel; The pilgrim
sought Empathos, Psychedelos.
I am not so bright of late,
My starlight was washed away.
447 · Sep 2014
Too Far Gone
I'm damaged,
Someone.
446 · Dec 2016
Skins, Memory And Soul
Another group of teens, enraptured
by whatever was at the heart
of their beating group.

So sure we were of what it was
that went beyond
mere ***, some drugs and few events.

Who can say how but from the depth
of boundless, sonder oceans,
We found you.

Amid all those faces, in the midst of
social coercion and amidst all this angst,
The friendships we formed
forged our personalities.

Some of us even found love
in between being lost, lonely
or ****** up; but together we

felt belonging, for the first time
in our insignificant, stupid little
lives, we felt alive, autonomous.

We had people to rely on
and substance to revive,
We might yet survive,

A bittersweet mixture of
empathy and nostalgia;
What does Skins
mean to you?

To me it meant a lot, it was about
pushing boundaries, the transitions,
Trying to live with them, rolling with it.

It was was about getting down and growing up,
Being young, feeling old and coming to terms with
one's soul; and of course, the vicissitudes
of a few foolish seventeen-year-olds.

Times, change and memory made manifest
is all that's left of us, them, those people we
call friends, they always have a place in my

heart; pass
us the skins.
In remembrance of Skins [2007-2013], generations 1, 2 & 3;

We get older and they stay the same.
444 · Mar 2016
Salubrious Druglust
My love of chems need be fed,
For love doth consume us, even
if to our detriment, but I'm sure I
keep it healthy.
What kind of ***** has humanity wrought upon itself?
444 · Dec 2017
Vita Somnus
Awake, warrior
who struggles; my dreams
spill over into consciousness,

The memory of a non-event has
me struck down with its realness,
Lists of hyponyms, this life hypnotic.

The moon forgives me for the issues
I did battle with;
The Oneiroi, Morpheus and Phantasos.

This 'wake oneironaut did not pause
to ponder at the gates
of horn and ivory
.
As the day proceeded
Hypnos faded.
444 · Jul 2013
New Way Home
All I have to do is turn off the lights
and the world becomes a magical place for me again.
It's that simple sometimes.

The recounts of infinite being call,
The path to lucidity is a long haul.

A paradigm shift is coming, and I'm ready.
All recreational drugs should be decriminalised;
Altering one's own state of mind is no injustice,
It only reflects the psychology of a given agent.

The majority of psychoactive drugs should be legalised
barring those with extraordinary potential to injure or
to be weaponised. Distribution should be state-regulated
to ensure that monopoly of the marketplace does not occur.
Vetting substances will require a series of clinical trials
and the health of our people comes before all other concerns,
Particularly business and religion. Freedom of choice is the
individual's burden, our mandate is only to provide information.


*"Under a government which imprisons any unjustly,
the true place for a just man is also a prison."
This proposition is just, reasonable and open to being discussed;
I stand by my words, as citizen and human
I implore others to come forward.
Stand with me; let us fix the broken windows
through which we view the world. Stop punishing the sick,
Don't criminalize the victims; end the war on consciousness.
After almost half a century it is time we start treating people
like the adults they are, it is time to advocate for responsibility.

[Quote:
Lines Twelve and Thirteen from "Resistance to Civil Government", also known as "Civil Disobedience", an essay by  Henry David Thoreau.]
441 · May 2016
Shades Over Miosis
After many hours of deliberation
about few things of great import
the sleep-deprived are haunted
now and again, "on earth as it is
in heaven", and will be forgotten.

So much so that tomorrow will
stare blankly into the mirror
and we'll feel lifelessness whisper
as I gaze into your constricted
pupils and pretend something is
there.
438 · Aug 2013
Waiting For the Sway
It's hard getting back in touch with life right now,
Hard to hear my self-esteem.
I'm waiting to feel myself breathe again,
Waiting for the brain chemistry.

Remembrance keeps me calm
as these fathoms seethe;
Emotions are temporary,
Knowledge is forever.

Past versus present,
Let the day come together.
438 · Dec 2018
Dark And Intense
It may not be
who I wanted to be
but so often I find it is who I am, so I take what comfort I can
from my identity. Still, I feel shame for being this way.

I believe I can transform my darkness it into a force
for good but I'm not ignorant to my own corruption;
I believe I can focus my intensity to achieve anything
but I'm aware when persons find this disconcerting.
I believe this is why I burn so slowly, and let shame
destroy me. I don't want to hurt another, so I look
inward
and chain myself,
I cast off my being,
Shave each layer off.
I am not so hungover today.
I don't feel like writing, I just
want to fall into an endless sleep,
A haze of warmth, of half-remembered
dreams and
forgotten origins.
Proposition: Emotions can be explained by three categories or  dimensions of sensation/experience:
-Physical/Biological/Neurochemical
-Mental/Psychological/Behavioral
-Subjective/Trigger/Response
Examples: Joy [Love], Sadness [Depression], Fear, Anger and Disgust
(other emotions may be a combination of the above e.g. pride or envy)

*No explanation adequate though certain phenomena can encapsulate the liminal.
Time is born
manifest of change,
In space we're caught
between experiential planes;
Yet thought goes beyond
said mortal chains, to which
linearity need not pertain:
Dare you treat with thy
hollow temporal wrath?
Breathed in to replace that;
The emptiness(-in-itself)
of change as a constant
and earth's cool breath,
Skimming oceans while
belaying their depth.
Thine reflection
gone in search
of humankind,
Tranquil sunbeams
doth remain aligned.
I cannot say
of the daydreams, why they come and go
so fleetingly.

I cannot say
how often I dreamt
of Columbine or suicide.

I cannot say
how many times
I took substances
to get out of my mind.

I cannot say how many nights I fell asleep
counting
compounds like most people count sheep.

All I can say
is that I sought relief;
And all I can pray for
is that I find it.
436 · Mar 2016
Scripture
There are two tomes I would consider sacred
and by sacred I mean worthy of veneration,
These books should not be mistaken for
being more than paper or strictly true,
With that in mind I will direct you
to PiHKAL:A chemical love story
& TiHKAL:The continuation.

They do not contain commandments on how to live
nor imperatives on what is moral nor why it is.
Rather, they tell the story
of a pair of explorers, a couple of psychonauts;
Two lovers, two friends;
Two lives, intertwined.
I believe in their story, and thank them for letting it be known.

The least I could do is write them a poem.
I do not endorse worship, all things written
were wrought by human, lest we apotheosize.

Let me be clear, I am merely paying tribute
to writings which are endeared to me, a writer.

Why? These books made a difference. Something this author aspires to!
I wish only to preserve their memory, and with it their spirit, which inspired so many; always I endeavour to remember how very human they were.
Spent the first half of my twenties depressed, just
like the first half of my teens. What a waste of life,

Unable to find love, to feel. I reckon there's potential
yet, I'd summon the will, tap the reservoir, let being
flow from my repertoire. What spurred this poem?
Spent today studying from my desk
while the sun was shining

and out the window
I could see a few kids
fooling about in fine

weather, slacklining
and chatting and enjoying
themselves, making memories. Wished I was out there
with them. Then realised they're not much younger than
I, and I thought them kids. Yesterday I was cycling home
and for a moment I thought: Soon I'll be old. Sooner than
I'd have thought it would seem. I'm 23.
Time is a construct
and age, a mindset.

College is quiet now
as dusk comes to a close
and the artificial lighting
fires up to clothe campus in
that kenopsic glow, those silent
shadows yawn as the night dawns
and darkness falls but the light above
my desk is a lone beacon. "I'm still here"

writing a thousand letters and
wishing for a thousands rests
.
Quote:
Line Twenty-Seven from I'm Still Here by John Rzeznik.
Personally, "when choosing between two evils,
I always like to try the one I’ve never tried before."
Variety is the spice of life, it keeps our addictions fresh.

Some people want to
pretend they're better,
As if they never indulged
a single junkiesque tendency,
Ever.

Alas!
Show me a moderate
and I'll show you the hypocrite.

Hear my words, please, judge me
but don't underestimate the
violence dismissal does.

I have always believed health should come before
any habit we discover, but what will it cost us to
legislate over the bodies of unknown others?
None have right to do injury to another,
Nor do they have the right to restrict
without discourse. Any lifestyle my
siblings subscribe to is beyond my
power. Even when they do wrong
it seems all we can do is be impartial
in informing them, and hope they see
the benefit of respecting one and other.
I try to connect. Should they refuse then
we must leave them but let it be known,
It means something; what can we do but
be there for them? Every adult has
committed
hypocrisy.


I am no different but for the acknowledgement
and vivid proclamations of being neo-moderate.
Quote:
Lines One and Two by Mae West
433 · Sep 2016
Azimuth
Been to the summit before,
Now baseline calls me forth
and I gotta ask for directions.

We might last 'til the end
of this one-night-fantasy.

For the first time in over a month
I felt something worth celebrating.

Sometimes you don't know what you're ignoring
until the sun goes.

"The gentle background roar of the unsleeping city filled the sodium-stained skies and I stood listening for the river's dark liquidic music in vain".

It struck me out of my daze,
I felt a twinge of emotion today. What now, navigator?
Quote:
Line Ten & Eleven from page 64 of Dead Air by Iain Banks
433 · Nov 2022
Clarification
Recently I was misidentified as a psychonaut
so allow me to clarify,
I am not.

I am no longer
part of that cabal,
I am no more a psychonaut than I am a catholic;

But, as a philosopher, I will write of it.


Psychonautics is an act of configuration.
It refers to a methodology
for describing and explaining
configurations of consciousness,
And a research cabal
in which adherents explore
and harness those configurations.

The power of psychonautics
is that configurations of consciousness
have resonant effects on meaning and belief.
The psychonautic cabal emerges from a recognition of this.

Psychonautic exploration is not without risk
to the physical and psychological well-being
of the researcher, to their essence and beliefs.

An experienced and trustworthy practitioner
can provide a tether to your shared reality,
Advanced practices require caution and patience
to navigate safely; "[t]here is no casual experiment".


In the Western paradigm, classical psychonautics
was defined by contemplative and ritual techniques,
The religious or spiritual practices of a tribe or society.

Modern psychonautics has been increasingly defined by
the use of psychoactive substances, which is likely the result
of secularization, advances in pharmacy, and the war on drugs.

In contemporary society psychoactives are a valuable commodity
that many people use (or misuse) for a variety of reasons.

Some will seek out drugs they have not tried before,
Few shall devote themselves entirely, investing
their time and resources in learning about,
acquiring and assessing psychoactives.

This latter cohort aligns with the methodology
of psychonautics, they commit to understanding
through practice. Many become well-versed
in Novel Psychoactive Substances (NPS),
Some academics assume this is the mark of the modern psychonaut
but it is mere specialization  rather than characteristic thereof.


As more initiates into psychonautics emerge from drug experiences
so does the cabal become more chemical. Nevertheless
it draws its adherents from a diversity of practices.

Psychonautic practices entail ontological risks,
The ranks of the cabal are full
of disordered, misguided, or warped adherents
whose heedless practice undermines
the meaningfulness of consensual reality.
A lack of formal training and mental health
likely contribute to this, although no equation
can encapsulate the qualitative experience which
compromises ontological security.


The cabal is decentralized, without singularly defined leadership
or ideals, and it operates through intrigue. Its adherents
may dispute the ethos or validity of some practices
and their corresponding configurations, and so
within the cabal there is an internal politics:

Cognitive liberals
believe anyone using responsibly
should be allowed their methodology and be able to practice.

Universalists or absolutists
believe everyone should be initiated, if not adherent.

Elitists and psychocrats
hold that only their method and practice is valid.

Cognitive dissidents
believe the methodology and its praxis must not be vested
in nation-states, corporations, or religions
if it is/they are to retain its power.

The cabal's politics of intrigue
represent an unspoken power struggle
where the stakes are unclear, if even communicable.

If the war on drugs comes to an end, psychonautics
will be redefined by its next wave of initiates,
May they be wise and kind.


I have written enough,
That part of my life is well and truly over.
My purpose here is to explore ideas, to experiment with poetry.
The place I allocate psychoactives
has always been secondary to that;

Rarely do I deign to sail the soul now
but when I do, know I am a philosopher

and do so as an inquiry into mind
rather than in service of alteration.
Line Twenty-Two from PiHKAL by Alexander & Ann Shulgin.

"When you see a headline extolling the virtues of “resetting your brain,”
What’s missing is the “visceral, sometimes hellish experience”"
-Rosalind Watts
432 · Feb 2018
Afterward
I exist, I'll cease:
I'd wonder, I feel
anger, forgive me.

I remember, I beg to
forget, I wander
off, I trespass.
A fleeting glance stole
my falling body from me.

I burn with that empyreal flame,
I do out a dose of tianeptine.
I live, I die;
I live again.
Listen.
432 · Nov 2019
Temporary Pleasure
What a strange Halloween week,
I am underwhelmed, I did not
overindulge, despite the
list of things I ate:
MPA, hash oil, 2C-B,
4-**-MiPT, escitalopram.
My head is not sated, I can feel
a sensation of unanswered cravings;
But I restrain.


I dose low, barely exceeding
the threshold.

Starve your head.
431 · Oct 2015
Love And Actuality
I do not have as much time on this earth
as I would like, I am twenty years old
and each year seems like it lasted no more
than mere seconds. In a month I will be twenty-one,
In a lifetime I'll be dead.
Whatever will I do in-between now and then?
"Just remember to fall in love,
There's nothing else,
There's nothing else"
.
Sometimes I'm afraid
I've forgotten how,
The only thing I feel
is this fake empathy
attaching itself to everything around me,
Stinging me, wondrously. I'm not sure
whether I believe if this is truly reality
or just misplaced sense-attachments?
I'm questioning my actuality again,
The sense which connects realities;
The accuracy of interpretations to
these many given representations.
"Will I ever love again?" he asked
of himself, foolishly, as if begging
for that insanity. I am a lost cause;
The first one said I wasn't broken enough,
Well now that I'm beyond repair I've gotta ask,
What is love(? (hahaha!)
Quotes:
Lines Seven, Eight and Nine from Swoon by The Chemical Brothers.
Line Twenty-Seven from What Is Love by Haddaway.
430 · Mar 2016
Traces, Immemory
He thought back,
Through the years,
Months, weeks, days,
Hours, minutes, seconds,
To those moments, surfacing
from memory, his hazy recollection
of deified drug {ab}use, came ever so slowly
to the fore of a mind that long ago swore to keep score.

Somewhere in a dream,
I remember.
Sometime in the agora,
I spent.
Someday I'll recall it all
but until then
I am the man who forgot
{his/he's} god.
Memory is the great connector, tying lives together.

We create meaning, gift significance; we are the signifiers.
426 · Jul 2017
Emphatic Loan
All happiness is borrowed.

Tell us about the consequences
of love: innocence, guilt; danger,
Vulnerability; humility, humanity.

Can we ever truly know the reactions
our actions sow? Once I was warm, now
that darkness grows cold. Once I was alone,
Now loneliness is like home. Once I tread upon
fresh snow, now I ask you to forgive us our trespasses.

Forgive me for changing.

I used to be a night owl. For a time I thought I was happy,
Love threw down, engulfed me. I'm not out of it yet, come
drown with me, in happiness and darkness, with no regrets.
Experience is life's interest on our existence and we all pay our dues.
I took 15mg of mirtazapine on Sunday evening out of pure curiosity.

As a result of its histaminergic activity there is sedation
yet I find I am easily surprised, jumpy but tired.
Initial slight sensations of arthralgia.

After a few hours I identify mild eidetic imagery,
Ever-so-slightly persistent with closed eyes.
These visual hallucinations emerge
from imagination, neither delirious nor lucid.
Perhaps they're more like vivid daydreams
and would leave with tolerance.

This faint mode of hallucination led into and out of sleep,
Supplanting hypnogogic and hypnopompic imagery.
What I remembered of dreaming was much the same:
Nonsensical conetent with similar imagery.
Upon waking its effects were still apparent.
Nothing particularly interesting, useful for achieving sleep.
There is definitely potential for hallucinatory imagery
but I found the content quite bland; it is lethargic.
425 · Jul 2017
Panthera Tigris
Had a bump of hexen last night
and some heart-strain this morning.

I should probably worry, but I don't know
what takes precedent. To be politically incorrect,
I feel like I'm sick in the head
a lot of the time. It's who I am,
Who I had to become to survive,
To live, and even though
I'm through it
I struggle to forgive myself. I hope this is the start
of a better relationship between us, ourselves, I;

For the first time in a long while I felt
wholeness after poiesis, reconciliation, reintegration.
And suddenly, for just a second, I saw it
again, beauty in the world, in the sky,
After dusk. Where've you been?
I've been singing, and it's
come back to me;
Kindness begets calm, and
right now I feel like I'm worth it.
Everyone deserves peace. The summer's

approaching, and there's nothing to fear.
I see the glow of streetlights appear as
the last hues of twilight begin to fade
and uncover the stars. It is good to

feel so human
at this point in time,
To feel the return of my
soul into my mind, psyché
once again made whole. Ah, sweet
nightfall. This wellness surprised me.
I dare not ascribe it.
425 · Aug 2017
Chrysalism
I'm on fire again
and it burns like a dæmon.

I find myself reveling in this
feeling, feeling so much more
than I had before. I worry that
I'd lose myself in this
quiet inferno, or return to those
forgotten shores, that I'd bathe
in the Phlegethon or the Lethe
once more. Pyromancy and tranquillity.

“Everything has its wonders, even darkness
and silence, and I learn, whatever state I may be in, therein to be content”.

Time is a river whose waters we stand in,
Memory is the fountain which overflows.
Quote:
Lines Eleven and Twelve by Helen Keller
424 · May 2024
Nunc Est Iterendum
They say, "it's always safer not to take drugs".
What of medicine, what of utility?
There's certainly need for antidotes,
and pain relief and even wakefulness.

They'd amend, "It's safer not to take drugs recreationally",
What of therapy and wholesomeness,
The spiritual aspect or communal element
of mind-expanding or pair- and group-bonding.

I ask, is there a healthy amount of recreational drug use?
Can we perform a hedonic calculus to determine
this amount, per person, per substance?
How do we treat with the ethics
of recreational drug use?
What do we owe
the virtues we have inherited,
How do we reckon with the vices identified?

Is substance exceptionalism ever warranted?
Do we deserve cognitive liberty?
Is such a thing coherent
given I may have become biased

in partaking or abstaining
from those drugs
I endeavor to study.
How do we determine what is pleasurable and right?
Now is the time to trip.
Some stuff happened to me this week,
More stuff will happen this weekend.

My newsfeed is full
of festival related statuses,
Proof that I live in a bubble but
it's a wonderful bubble to float away

in; the tribes gather
for Body & Soul.

We will dance and through each body
will shine a soul, every soul will move

to the beat of one body,
To the heartbeat
of our soul.
That heart
stopped

and I've lost
our soul.

This summertime sadness
has us, sun behind the cloud
and sepia-styled light pouring
in, the day after.

What happened to me this week,
How do I make it to next weekend?
423 · May 1
Bright Fire
May Day is upon us,
Summer is commenced,

And I find I am strung out on existence again.
Hazy daydreams and nostalgic motifs
play out on the threshold of waking awareness,

in this quiet interiority.
These recurring scenes

of abandoned planets, weathered landscapes
and transmuted ecology, fading lithographs
by fallen civilizations, collective memories
become the sole providence of those few
moments, thoughts, wandering lights.

Questions to ask when difficult emotions arise: Am I in a process?
Am I being too ******* myself? Am I taking things too seriously?

"He called philosophy down from the heavens,
And placed it in cities, and introduced it even in homes,
And drove it to inquire about life" (said Cicero, on Socrates).
Take a moment to regain your poise
and recover your peace.
422 · Dec 2019
Republic Of Dread
Acceptable self-harm is drinking a pack of off-brand biscuits
through several cups of tea
every other evening.
Acceptable self-harm is binge-watching an entire season
of whatever's hooked it's tentacles into
the reward pathways of your brain
in one sitting.
Acceptable self-harm is buying into vicious ideology
because it makes you feel deep connection while
othering.
Unacceptable self-harm is when your wrists ache
for a sharp edge, or your brain itches
for a chemical foreign to it.
421 · Nov 2015
:Linguistic Axioms
Consciousness is the genealogy of language;
Entheogenesis, Apotheotelos.

Communication is the teleology of language;
Entheopoïesis, Apotheopraxis.
Information wants to be free.
420 · Feb 9
Mox Nox
Going through my old school copybooks and notes,
The scribbles and drawings portray the mind
of someone ill-at-ease with the world,
Yet they summon odd nostalgia.

In the calm of the room, by the window's
fading sunlight, I leaf through
my secondary school biology experiment book

There are lines and references to Gordan Freeman
from Half-Life 2, and other art media of the time,
such as quotes from Heisenberg in Breaking Bad
and embarrassingly detailed instructions
and cost estimates for synthesizing MDMA.
Maybe it's for the best I didn't take chemistry.
Then again, the margins of my third-level notes
contain updates on darkweb marketplaces of old
as well as Anglo-Saxon poetry and Game of Thrones.

I wonder about my metaphysical health during these times
but make no judgements on fond memories
of old friends, home comforts.

Strange, these moments
from past lives.
Soon [it is] night.
419 · Nov 2013
Asleep At The Wheel
Were you ever somewhere so vivid,
At a place so sublime,
You felt you could just reach out
and catch the smoke trails
filtering through light.

I clutch at reality
because dreams feel closer to me.
Driving with no intention of going anywhere.
418 · Jul 2014
Thoughts In-Vitreous
This soul will burn 'til it is nought but ash.

Lost in thought
like grains of sand.
The wise ones bear open palms.
Life's a beach.
416 · Jun 2022
Cognitive Dissent
Values are malleable things,
Shaped over the course of our lives,
Slowly changeable except during extremes
which necessitate a flip, provoked by revelation or dissonance.
I used to value a capacity to be non-judgemental, is that hubris?

To suffer through confusion, to take pleasure in mania,
To soar with impulsivity, to drown in melancholia.
To play with fire, to pray to madness, to savor
one's pain, to wish to forget all the hurt, and
when one finally does, to realize the loss
of one's soul.

So I spent years
coming down, I sank into mediocrity, troubled
by my prospects; disenfranchised, devalued.
I reneged upon knowledge and pleasure;
I reneged upon curiosity, compassion.
I might be between values, between
integrity and wisdom, these are
no mere platitudes, for I am
changeable, mutable, aflame.
411 · Dec 2015
Exïsthesia
If the momentum of being was liberated
all things would appear to man as they are, eternal.
Actuality is just one blue pill home.
Note:
Lines One and Two reference "the doors of perception"
from The Marriage of Heaven and Hell by William Blake
411 · Oct 2015
This Included
Incorrect views, lies and fault
all fueling further incoherencies,
Sometimes I feel as if all of thought
has become terribly misplaced, removed
from its immediate context, it loses any sense
of direct reference as language obscures itself.
411 · Apr 2024
Boys of Summer
Why was I so enamored as a young person
by the world I had found in addiction
and everything it encompassed;

The search, the climb
and the view from up high.
It was as a balm to my longing,
A salve to that infinite homesickness.

Why was I so enchanted as a young adult
by the moments we experienced
as companions of substance;

A breeze caught my sails
and I escaped the doldrums
of mundane existence, I knew
"Today is Yesterday's Tomorrow"
Last line inscribed on the Morehead Planetarium Sundial.
410 · May 2016
Mydriatic Eclipse
Hold fast,
Feel it all,
Even thru
the fall; hav
Logos (reason),
Pathos (emotion),
Ethos (culture/communitas).
409 · Sep 2017
Nothing Particular
Some people are so alive and full of life,
Some people just want to die
as the world burns
around them

because nothing is
so warm.

You know,
I could have told you

so much more
if I weren't so afraid
of the stars and those lives
that I left behind all those closed doors.
I can't pin this feeling down.
Some better habits
are written upon
our conscience,

And ketamine;
But you know what they say,
Irony is golden.

The warm, entactogenic transience
of 5-MAPB carried us into 2δ24, thus
we found ourselves in January uttering:

Tempus edax rerum (time devours things).
My omission to write any poetry in January
might be remitted here, for grand things
abound in the new year.
I called myself Mydriasis for a reason
not because The Session resides in my being
but because pupil dilation signifies so many things:
Focus in attention, pure and utter stimulation, and of course,
The comfort of darkness;
The abyss we gaze in
to feel sky's depth.

Went for a swim in the river Lethe,
Rather than lose everything as you bathe, find śūnyatā
and bask in its praise; do not shy away from any depth, have patience.
Ameles Potamos
408 · Sep 2014
Spacewalk
I fell from a sunspot
to the darkest reaches
of our coldest moon
and from there I observe
with the patience of a god
until it's time again
for me to fall.
EVA gone wrong.
Next page