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Duke Thompson Aug 2014
Standing on my head to rid myself of this soul-phlebitis
  An old hobo train jumper trick apparently
All that blood rushing to my previously empty head
      Filling, pooling graciously flow
            (Don't we all know, there's nowhere to go but up)

Abruptly fall head first lurching, crunch
To the cold brittle hardwood boards of nuns in our parent's youth
       Creaking (they whip us good)
                  Is this ink sunken in skin to be yer biggest regret?
     What can pain do for you?
Connecting the mind and body
    Cingulate gyrus integrating
         reptilian brain vagus nerve body influence with higher
              Social functioning
                                      ugh when really it's all a big joke
                                           and the sad clown laughing at the universe
                                                 is me and i am god and god,
                                                      god he weeps
                    Breeding consciousness, somatosensory convergence
                           You make my prefrontal cortex sick
                                   Subsequent serotonin stomach butterflies
                                         The prescience of a dozen acid trip candy flips
                                               Tomorrow's 500 micrograms of blissful gut          
                                                      Awareness in bloom

Home, where's home for the moment?
       Not sure, asking, looking
            And questing to find o yes and where to go and where to stay
                 And with whom and Why
                      Questions called to no one and nothing (but the sea)
                             That can't hear me
                                      As if Nietzsche's 'void' is staring back
EAT ME THEN DAMNABLE VOID
       I cry
    For
What pain is there in true madness,
       sick little toy words
       sick little boy slurs
Dre G Sep 2011
this is the finally finished poem that i had uploaded last year as untitled:


wake up inside a faerie
ring, sun probing
between canopies,
a musty odor leaking
out of the Styx, the dark
Master waits in hollow,
aching trees.

from the stumps
he calls to me, he wants me
to play hide and seek.
he can't hear, but he smells
and feels each warm, hungry
step bringing me closer
to the river.

a stew in my chest,
a stake for my shoulders,
i know he is my ancient Master but
i though i was released.
now i drip down like the slugs,
i scoop jelly out
of my eyes and feed it to my children.

like the bite and bark
of a Celtic Oak, i slice off calluses,
stratum by rooted stratum, till
i have a full basket of raspberries.

i just want to slide this naked, dead
weight body across the pointed treetops.

by the light of starving embers, i eat
my knotted hair and cough up muddy ice.
i burn down teepees at night so i can see
the souls of screaming children
rise like red dust to Andromeda.

last night the Acid burned
a hole right through my cauldron,
and when i could see
the other side,
i sat there- speechless, dumbfounded,
at all i had
forgotten:


a ball of mugwort, still aflame,
a purple spiral galaxy,
ten micrograms of safety,
and an echo
that escaped from me
every time i tried to pet it.
Martin Narrod Apr 2017
Apple Jacks

Up into the sky, the girl with velvet pants, a hip and tender blue, she loves me too, she loves me too.

Feet upon the dash, sun rays on our face, our ashtray filling fast as I push harder on the gas, I'd drive a thousand miles to see her, I'd drive anywhere to be near to her, I want to be there when she smiles, even for a little while. I will be there. I will be there.

Mountain tops are wrapped in white, the highway pass stops being plowed at night, we've seen the sun it set, we've seen the sun it rise, and set again today, we're heading far away, because I will be there, I will be there.

A notebook filled with scribbled ink and our ashtray's full with inspiration but out of energy. There's a song stuck in my head, but only the two lines that she's said, I sing them over and over, and over and over, she wrote, "I will be there. I will be there"

I'm nearly running out of stamps, but I've got many more postcards I want to send, we haven't passed a town with enough people to have a mailbox, and America is getting thin, skinny kids with their line tattoos, girls dress down and never look as good as you. I'd rather go nowhere with you than everywhere with somebody who won't ever be there. You can be here, but you can be so ******* **** unclear.

We just ate two hits a piece, of 350 micrograms of lsd, we've still got more than half a pound of some Gorilla Glue  Hybrid Blueberry strand, I'd like falafel wrap and a red stripe too, we have enough to buy food for you.

I've never been sad or lonely since we started to go on our road journey. But I'm in love with your elbows, I'm having an affair with your elbows. Sometimes they don't return my calls, sometimes they don't even call at all, I will be there if you cry, and I'll be there to say goodnight. I will be here to make you come, so long as you'll be here to *******. So let's drive around and have some fun, while we drive around in the sun. Will or won't, yes or no, to and fro, we've counted twice to just be sure, we have 10 toes and 10 fingers. I've counted yours, you've counted mine, i need to see your elbows one more time. I need to find your funny bone so it can crack me up, and we can race through states in this cardboard box. Can we put plastic wrap instead of using tempered glass, on this rocket ship Jimi's Blues, it's the only thing I want to do. To see backward into the fading sun, we can eat dinner or have Twix instead. I won't forget if you still put in. Just let me lick the numbers off your mouth. Just let me lick the numbers off your mouth. We haven't gone anywhere, so we can just stay here, I will just stay here. But please can you go to the store, I need new skateboard bearings and a kid-size box of Apple Jacks.
On Sunday I took 350 micrograms
of dimethoxybromoamphetamine,

In the afternoon I prayed

to the drives which animate us,
beseeching them:

To be mindful,
To clear intentions,
To care for myself, and
share in the good life
.
Their presence caused me to soften.
I accept that I'm not in control.
I want to be better for them.
I am in contemplation.

— The End —