#hashish - Hello Poetry

Feeling... Ceiling... Crush another can, Something wonderful! Wasted now, Broken house... Yeah... Defeat, Concrete... Take another hit, And it's all complete, Just **** me, Oh, **** me... Yeah... Can't you see? It's my creed, Blood red seas, So permanently! And this is me! Oh, this is me... Yeah... Sunlight, So bright, I think about a day, I've never had my rights! I'm Equal, And Unequal... Yeah... Shadow ball! Oh, shadow ball, Tell me why I never Had faith at all! Just let me sleep, Oh, let me sleep, Yeah... Oh, Hashish, And ***** I can't imagine when I've ever felt so numb! Just guide me, And hide me... Yeah... It's something new, And something ******* A form of happiness I never thought I'd brew, But still, I knew, Oh, I knew... Yeah... Shadow ball, Oh, shadow ball, Tell me why I never Had faith at all! Just let me feel, And leave me be... Yeah...

0

Dec 1, 2018

Dec 1, 2018 at 1:33 AM UTC

FireheartSpeaks

Shadow Ball

Feeling... Ceiling... Crush another can, Something wonderful! Wasted now, Broken house... Yeah... Defeat, Concrete... Take another hit, And it's all complete, Just **** me, Oh, **** me... Yeah... Can't you see? It's my creed, Blood red seas, So permanently! And this is me! Oh, this is me... Yeah... Sunlight, So bright, I think about a day, I've never had my rights! I'm Equal, And Unequal... Yeah... Shadow ball! Oh, shadow ball, Tell me why I never Had faith at all! Just let me sleep, Oh, let me sleep, Yeah... Oh, Hashish, And ***** I can't imagine when I've ever felt so numb! Just guide me, And hide me... Yeah... It's something new, And something ******* A form of happiness I never thought I'd brew, But still, I knew, Oh, I knew... Yeah... Shadow ball, Oh, shadow ball, Tell me why I never Had faith at all! Just let me feel, And leave me be... Yeah...

56

hashishadoworld

0

Dec 27, 2017

Dec 27, 2017 at 12:23 PM UTC

nene

hashish, shadow world - a minimal haiku

hashishadoworld

1

the Himalayas rise there is snow on the peaks I watch it from my bed I gaze and gaze at it in the morning as a little village girl goes by sniffling with cold I too am cold it is chilly here in Tosh in May but a young Israeli boy took off his shirt and stood on the fencepost of the guesthouse dancing down was the deep green valley all of us watched in admiration the next day I went down to the waterfall which from here is a beautiful whisper in the air there are donkeys and a path and pretty houses on the other side of the valley and everywhere there are people smoking hash and relaxing in the cafes and the guesthouses it is almost like a pilgrimage smokers keep coming and sit around smoking talking I pull down my woollen cap my arms and back feel the chill despite a thick sweater despite a blanket and a four inch thick quilt I roll my joints and smoke them alone sometimes smoke them with others I look at the hills and the valleys and the wooden houses I look at the white peaks glowing in the sun and talk about CCR and stained glass art with Michael from Norfolk who’s going down the valley to another village for a party tonight with his young Spanish friend I talk about Bombay with Puneet and Manya from Kanpur who’ve come here on a Bullet Hash Heaven Manya says reading my mind as the joint passes on to the four engineering interns from Delhi and all the time I sip on ginger lemon honey for my sore throat until on the last day it disappears unlike the young Israeli girl’s pink laptop in a pink cover found by the part time caretaker in the garden on a pink chair she left behind last night because it was too dark come again the guesthouse boys say to me as I pay them what a scene I think how cool as I begin to leave the village down the dung-clotted stone steps nodding to the smokers coming in.

0

Jun 7, 2017

Jun 7, 2017 at 11:13 PM UTC

indian-hippie

From My Window Here In Tosh

the Himalayas rise there is snow on the peaks I watch it from my bed I gaze and gaze at it in the morning as a little village girl goes by sniffling with cold I too am cold it is chilly here in Tosh in May but a young Israeli boy took off his shirt and stood on the fencepost of the guesthouse dancing down was the deep green valley all of us watched in admiration the next day I went down to the waterfall which from here is a beautiful whisper in the air there are donkeys and a path and pretty houses on the other side of the valley and everywhere there are people smoking hash and relaxing in the cafes and the guesthouses it is almost like a pilgrimage smokers keep coming and sit around smoking talking I pull down my woollen cap my arms and back feel the chill despite a thick sweater despite a blanket and a four inch thick quilt I roll my joints and smoke them alone sometimes smoke them with others I look at the hills and the valleys and the wooden houses I look at the white peaks glowing in the sun and talk about CCR and stained glass art with Michael from Norfolk who’s going down the valley to another village for a party tonight with his young Spanish friend I talk about Bombay with Puneet and Manya from Kanpur who’ve come here on a Bullet Hash Heaven Manya says reading my mind as the joint passes on to the four engineering interns from Delhi and all the time I sip on ginger lemon honey for my sore throat until on the last day it disappears unlike the young Israeli girl’s pink laptop in a pink cover found by the part time caretaker in the garden on a pink chair she left behind last night because it was too dark come again the guesthouse boys say to me as I pay them what a scene I think how cool as I begin to leave the village down the dung-clotted stone steps nodding to the smokers coming in.

44

Gold crown of Olympus, hair crown and Skin gown. First we throw our bodies at One another. Heaping piles of human soup. Bold maneuvers, hands and mouths and Boy meets girl lying down, on top, intertwined. Skittish moves on a tryst. Wet fingers of freshly Tendered infinite decibel pleasure screams. Streamers above a long rooting movement. Overture of Aphrodite. Sparkling, glitter woman, Legs pressed tightly to the chest, Loose appendages intertwined. Intersticed dactyls In rapture, soothing. Bodies build to one heart's beat. Two muses fused together. If I wasn't afraid I'd wake you up I'd slip on my shoes and make a tropical fruit fondue. Stage two: Ice cream lover's delight. Opus to brown sugar. To swimming again, a pursed lurking of lips In the academy of the pastoral commonwealth. We eat at our stations of the sublime. Today which was A day of discord- you nursed me back to the land of the living. Stage three: *** Stage four. *** Stage five: As we earn our pageantry to take Stride on this Earth, and string a Great bow of eager success among all of us, You, me, them. While I continue to Gaze at you. If not dinner, perhaps a Cup of tea instead.

0

May 17, 2014

May 17, 2014 at 4:35 AM UTC

martin-narrod

The Stages of Sleep

Gold crown of Olympus, hair crown and Skin gown. First we throw our bodies at One another. Heaping piles of human soup. Bold maneuvers, hands and mouths and Boy meets girl lying down, on top, intertwined. Skittish moves on a tryst. Wet fingers of freshly Tendered infinite decibel pleasure screams. Streamers above a long rooting movement. Overture of Aphrodite. Sparkling, glitter woman, Legs pressed tightly to the chest, Loose appendages intertwined. Intersticed dactyls In rapture, soothing. Bodies build to one heart's beat. Two muses fused together. If I wasn't afraid I'd wake you up I'd slip on my shoes and make a tropical fruit fondue. Stage two: Ice cream lover's delight. Opus to brown sugar. To swimming again, a pursed lurking of lips In the academy of the pastoral commonwealth. We eat at our stations of the sublime. Today which was A day of discord- you nursed me back to the land of the living. Stage three: *** Stage four. *** Stage five: As we earn our pageantry to take Stride on this Earth, and string a Great bow of eager success among all of us, You, me, them. While I continue to Gaze at you. If not dinner, perhaps a Cup of tea instead.

31