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In my childhood rumors ran
   Of a world beyond our door—
Terrors to the life of man
   That the highroad held in store.

Of mermaids' doleful game
   In deep water I heard tell,
Of lofty dragons belching flame,
   Of the hornèd fiend of Hell.

Tales like these were too absurd
   For my laughter-loving ear:
Soon I mocked at all I heard,
   Though with cause indeed for fear.

Now I know the mermaid kin
   I find them bound by natural laws:
They have neither tail nor fin,
   But are deadlier for that cause.

Dragons have no darting tongues,
   Teeth saw-edged, nor rattling scales;
No fire issues from their lungs,
   No black poison from their tails:

For they are creatures of dark air,
   Unsubstantial tossing forms,
Thunderclaps of man's despair
   In mid-whirl of mental storms.

And there's a true and only fiend
   Worse than prophets prophesy,
Whose full powers to hurt are screened
   Lest the race of man should die.

Ever in vain will courage plot
   The dragon's death, in coat of proof;
Or love abjure the mermaid grot;
   Or faith denounce the cloven hoof.

Mermaids will not be denied
   The last bubbles of our shame,
The Dragon flaunts an unpierced hide,
   The true fiend governs in God's name.
Some people burn bridges just to watch the flames
Lapping at their heels in a psychotic rage
Hypnotised by the colours like rage in their heart
Destroying it all the bad and the good all gone
Reduced to chared timbers no way to walk back
Have you any idea of your chaos inside
So go burn those bridges and laugh at the flames
Don't swim back to me the shores blown away
I took LSD about five times. That isn't often, but for me it was sufficient. I never had a bad trip. I enjoyed myself immensely. I still remember these experiences vividly. Psychedelics are not like other drugs. They seem to be about something besides pleasure and pain. They don't soothe your agony. They don't help you relax. They neither excite a craving, nor relieve one. LSD intensifies things. But it doesn't really make anything happen. It just brings into the open whatever is going on already. It makes you perceive things you'd otherwise ignore. It's an all-purpose catalyst for the brain. I never had any hallucinations while tripping. Everything I saw was perfectly real. It's just that my senses were enhanced. As I recall, light was streaming everywhere. Colors were more vivid than I had ever seen. Intricate, swirling patterns danced across the sky. Figure turned into ground, and ground into figure. Everything was alive, with a life and will of its own. Objects throbbed and glowed, and writhed in my hands. This was beautiful. It was also disconcerting. I didn't have control. Even the simplest tasks seemed beyond my ability. How could I possibly lock the door, for instance, or play a record on the stereo? But the key slipped into the lock of its own accord. And music boomed from the speakers, all by itself. Things just happened like that. There was no need for action on my part. The world was generous beyond measure. It offered me more than I could ever hope to absorb. The more choices it gave me, the less I was able to choose. When I tried to read a book, even the words on the page came alive. They wavered and jumped around and flashed rainbow colors. Somehow this made them seem richer and more passionate. As for other people, they became transparent. Their flushed faces gleamed above elongated bodies. They looked like cartoon images of themselves. In such a state, they could hold no secrets from me. I knew them better than they knew themselves. The most hilarious part was that they didn't notice my condition. I talked to them calmly, as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Meanwhile the world washed over me in waves. A violent energy surged through my body. Its force left me breathless. My nerves tingled from the shock. Spasm after spasm swept through me in a rush. This was the outside, battering its way in. The objects all around me were coming closer and closer. I could no longer keep the world at a proper distance. It pushed right up against me. It grazed my skin. It pressed into my eyes. It filled my mouth, and churned in my stomach and bowels. I felt its alien presence coursing through my veins. I was more than vulnerable. I was exposed. All barriers, all defenses, had fallen. Even the lightest touch was enough to set me a quiver. The feeling was so intense, I could hardly stand it. Life gushed forth in all its splendor. I no longer knew where my being ended, and the world began. My body lay dispersed and scattered everywhere. It had become a vessel for forces I could not name. These forces converged upon me from the farthest reaches of the universe. This was the peak, the high point of the trip. Things were going so fast, I couldn't keep up. I couldn't even keep track of my own state of mind. By the time I noticed anything, it was gone. It had already changed into something else. I was out of sync with the world, and with myself. I tried hard to make sense of this situation. I struggled to focus my attention. I carefully pondered each of my actions. I repeated to myself the story of what was happening. But still I wasn't able to catch up. There remained a lag between events and my awareness of them. This was a riddle I could not solve. My efforts to close the gap only made it larger. Thoughts of all kinds were swarming through my brain. I grasped at them as they whizzed by. I examined them from every possible angle. I worked them over meticulously. I elaborated them into complicated structures. Soon I was thinking thoughts about thoughts; then thoughts about thoughts about thoughts. My mind was caught in an infinite regress. I needed more and more words, to say what could never be said. This prospect thrilled me. It convinced me that I was on to something profound. The secret of all existence seemed to be hovering just before me. If only I could pin it down for a moment... Of course, this impression didn't last. Time and again, it broke up in gales of laughter. The secret was that there was no secret. None of this really mattered. In any case, the trip did not go on forever. Some things are just too beautiful to last. Toward evening, the world gradually settled down. It was with regret, as well as relief, that I returned to ordinary life. Today, LSD continues to haunt me. It lingers in memory, long after having left my body. I don't think it means much of anything. But there's a certain feeling it gave me, that never goes away.
Was
She had
Big luscious
**** ******* lips
Scrumptiously
A ***** *****
With tattoos
Across her ****
And an ***
That any man
Would kiss
Despite
The ***
And the ****
Already on it
She had sass
And would *****
On *****
As her mascara ran
But she wasn't sick
Her every ******* tear
Immaculate
She was a submissive
So dismissive
When you hit her
She came
And begged
For another
With her
Bloodied pucker
Of mucked lovers
She was a nasty *****
Leaving lipstick
On rich boys
And Leroy's
And she
Would ****
Or ****
Just about
Anything
To get lit
As she elongated
Her words
Like a *****
Southern ******
Slurring her verbs
With dead birds
In her hand
And fear
In her heart
She fanned
Her flames
And scrubbed
The stains
From predictable
Strangers
Strangling her
While getting ******
From every angle
Dangling her soul
In her mangled holes
She cried
And cried for more
Reap and sow
The *****
From her nose
As every man knows
To blow as she chokes
Such a beautiful throat
And that walk
That walk of a *****
That every man adores
That other girls
Only wished for
And she loved it
The attention
The erections
The affection
The infections
She was addicted
To ****
And knew it
She was a ****
Strutting her stuff
Letting her **** out
Of her blouse
Just to arouse
The curiosity
Of your spouse
And wreck
Your house
She couldn't get enough
She'd eat your girl out
Before getting ******
She was down
For anything
Or anyone
A **** ** bag
That we all
Tagged twice
Once for fun
And once alive
I was her life
She was my wife
She was a
kick in the face
Away from fame
And she would
Say anything
Anything
To get away
Until she
Didn't
Just try
To display
The might
Of a republic
That died
Years ago

Just try
To let go
Of the way
That lead us
Away
From ourselves

Just try
To break
Away
From the hell
That awaits
Us now
Don't know
What you're talking about
So i scream

Real loud

Don't care
What you're gawking about
So i scream

Right over you

Its all forks in the air
And lack of care
When i scream

Right through you

My love for you
Fragile love for you
I love you and i love you

I love you dead

Its a bottle bees
Shattering
Over the stings

Get outside me

Sing a bit to me
While i'm asleep
Let me be

Or ill scream

Buzzing in my dreams
Stingers, and wings
Singers, and fiends

Screaming at me

Screaming
Why the ****
Is it so much

To stop

Shut up

Turn it

Off
I want to write a screen play
The story of a life
A journey to insanity
The weary inner strife
The endless days of torture
Night's of intense mental pain
The wishing you where dead
Yet clinging to life's vein
When sparks of love afforded
To be snatched away in game
Each tearing a little deeper
Your sanity deranged
Their victory proclaimed
Like chess played with neurons
On a a board that has no squares
A three dimensional prison
That exists inside your head
No solace reached in morning
Their tirade begins again
Retreating deeper inward
You worsen every day
Finally a knife edge
Stay or walk away
Berated for your failure
Each and every day
Survival is all that matters
Clinging to your life
Thoughts are so intransient
You smile as you cry
A hug could simply **** you
Your humanity's been lost
Others did not see it
Nor how you paid the cost
So if I wrote a screenplay
The story of a life
How would I begin or end
What words would I write
Would you see the meaning
And hold me close tonight?
Writing the inexplicable
An obituary to a victim of mental domestic violence
Do not stand at my grave and weep..
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry..
I am not there. I did not die.
I was never
interested

in finding the
annotation.

The definition of
dreaming

isn't the words that
create

an exact
meaning

its the feeling of
honesty

that is
embodied

upon the
awakening

of something entirely, truly, and purely
you
 Apr 2013 Patricia Drake
betty s
Take my heart. I need none of it.
This muscle.
It doesn't beat without you.
Without you, I'm naked as I was born.

Take my heart. I need you more.
(I found this in a box that I just unpacked next to a self portrait I did when I was 15...I was angst-y even then)
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