Every time I go under the covers,
My eyes long to find you.
Is it just a euphoric essence, or am I really falling?
Oh! I’m so afraid of telling.
Some days I wake up with your bold eyes staring at me, when I hallucinate.
Some nights you’re just a sweet swimmer swimming in my ocean, when I hallucinate.
When nights are so long,
And I can barely sleep,
I rest upon your figure, when I hallucinate.
You have no name, no face, no game, no race
Only a someone whom I rely on
My chance to escape, a feeling of being loved.
Oh darling, Let’s meet there again,
When I hallucinate.

Your voice follows me
Demolishes me
Crushes me
I hate
to hallucinate
But sometimes
I wish
It really was you
calling me

?Who is the stranger in the dark?
?Sharing your bed?
?Keeping the shadows at bay?
?Holding you behind their eyes?

?Do you hallucinate them?
?Did they hallucinate you?
?Does your body hurt?
?When they are not touching you?

?Does reflection of their eyes?
?Change your mood?
?Did you already say forever?
?Forever in your minds eye?

?Did you say it out loud?
?Did you scream it?
?At the top of your lungs?
?Did they leave anyway?

?Did you smell their clothing?
?Did you hallucinate again?
?Did they find a place in your brain?
?Who left whom in the dream?

?Was there a place where you went?
?Was there a moment in time?
?Did you consider yourself a victim of crime?
?Did you play the ancient roles?

?Was there a moment you knew?
?That it was a tragedy not comedy?
?Did the two  voices argue internally?
?Was one of you right was on of you wrong?

?Did you find God together?
?Was it that kind of dance?
?Did you lead. Did you follow?
?Did you follow the cultural norms?

?Was there a hero and dragon?
?Did you slay I together?
?Did you save the princess?
?Did she know she was saved?

?Was there good intention?
?Did you give of yourself?
?Did you ever stop trying?
?Did you give up?

?Was there cake?
?Will there be cake?
?Do you want cake?
THEN DO NOT FIXATE ON ICING

love is rebel

when maddening rush of waves in sea
pound upon rocks obliterating all reverence
and meekest lilies bud in deserts to destroy
drowsy, shrivelled spirits of arid expanse

winds hum a song

and ballad of crimson bleeds from skylark's beak
as millennia of smoldering agony melt the furnace
of a gasping heart stomped upon by boots of time
weary, tired of burning for this world

i turn to you

chasing the merriest dream shut against an eye
of a frail romance, seeking a moment's solace
in tender touch of your silvery hue
lest my soul discern emptiness of my being

and turn blind without

caress of blissful light streaming down divinity
of a paradise which shall be home to lovers
in a moment something akin to blossoms fair
and be named the marvel of a moonlit sky

but how you only part

with moment lapsing into oblivion like a stream
housing ripples which fade into obscurity
as you flowing ride seaward along noiseless breezes
only to rest in nethers of a watery labyrinth

and doomed to burn

i part ways till my beloved's sleep grieves upon
dark stillness of heart as garish rays burn alight;
fill the land with a curtain of longing;
await your blissful countenance at twilight

beyond a chore of night and day

indulge in gleaming splendour of a festival
witnessed by angels and mortals alike
amid fleeting tenderness that paints our wispy sky
with a rosy blush, we seek each other

wriggling along

emptiness of space and hallucinate
a glittering spread of stars half asleep or coy
while celestial arena dumbfounded by our mutinous flight
gazes at two Gods sailing, sinking in each others arms

do humans plead and pray

wrought with sorrow, wish away the ill omen
turning glorious light to abominable darkness
as if life betrayed the vanquished spirit of
terrorized souls shouting, beating pots and drums

should someone tell the world

and those beseeching mercy from heavens
escape is a wing endowed to dream
through eyes of a lover which turn to riot
illuminate the darkness of a lifetime's longing

tell them dearie, tell them now

to the chanting, screaming vengeful barbarians
we're a tangle of coldly breathed sighs in lonesome nights
a mad rush of blooming desire grew tired of servility
wrapped inside the ring of black burning passion

we are the embrace

frozen in background of a singular nothingness
for which seems like an eternity but which shall
only last for a desperate twinkle of time
while savoured feasts of memories brew in our being

but long as we are bound

baited to the hook of grand order
crunched and gnashed under weight of divine province
we will part in an eye's blink again
like melody turned to a moan

-- the sun

There is an image
Working to free my mind
From violent dawns
It probes at the backs of my eyes
It tells me I am prostituting myself
Here in my bedroom
In incestuous union with myself
I hallucinate and fantasise about
Doctors sons, butchers boys
Teenage thieves, deserters
Drug pushers, scandalous rent boys
Vagrants, pimps, prostitutes
And silk lingerie and don't care.
I sit destitute of thought
An insonce dissonance of macabre music
Playing out melodies of an image in my mind

The smile of the white bloom, in my crown
its fragrance spreads across galaxies of neurons,
none can fully imagine the scene, I haven't seen
it's stellar design baffles humans, resists exploration.

On single file pass days and nights, indefatigable
rainbows are made and unmade, making clouds
blush and hoping for  bridges across them,
why, even the universe dances to the tunes we play

Ever  at ease, I walk silently past the blue mountains,
of remembrance, mostly love created, a miracle!
At times a poet, a scientist,a  cosmologist,or a mystic in solitude
finds the need to "stand and stare"wonder, speaks in metaphors.

Looking st the fireworks sky manages, I hallucinate,
an astronaut I become, who knows nothing about time
one wished to live in timelessness for ever and when,
that dream comes true, loses within and be nothingness.

With you, I don't have a fear of falling...out of love that is. I can't imagine having just enough of you to just settle me. I wake up into space, were matter consumes me as a whole and my mind is gone. Putting matter over mind where everything is out of order, I begin to hallucinate this perfect picture of us painted in my head. I've overdosed on the thought of you, things become clouded as I begin to frustrate myself. You create a civil war, where I am my own enemy fighting for the same thing leaving me where I started. Alone. Where there is no one to sympathize for the void of my frontal presence, because it is now controlled to you. Every action made by the jurisdiction of your ruling but you are clueless to it all. You said, "take my hand." And I went for it. Giving into the misinterpretation of your subconscious flirtation. You took me for a ride and all I followed was every curve your hips made. Hypnotized. You're the only thing I feel I must acquire. Becoming all I know. Eventually, I feel a shock sending me further away from you. stimulating erosion of the captivation, I am no longer held captive under your spell. You become nothing I know  wide awake, out of my mind. Floating where I seen you, and now I don't. An illusion, taken apart like a puzzle stitched together. Broken bonds, and I am back. And I am right back where I was. I've had enough of your drug. And I don't need you anymore.

Sometimes I feel like I’m on drugs
But these drugs are better than any
I hallucinate a life with you
I walk down the stairs past you but
Instead of an awkward smile
You pull me aside and kiss me
Gently but with true passion
You kiss me knowing
I would die for you
But our love would never die
These hallucinations are so perfect
Like one white cloud in the blue sky
I know they aren’t real
Life for me is nothing but storm clouds
Raining on every parade before it starts
Like an addict I need more
More and more and more
Of this perfect hallucination
Where I float across the ground
To you and you are there to greet me
You laugh because I am laughing
I am laughing because you make me happy
You make me happy because
Your existence is the drug

I sit in agony by the river in a garden where the plants have grown wild. The gardener died many years back and I am left to take care of his work. I don't know how to care for plants, I only know how to see beauty in violet tufts and green leaves.

But this afternoon I sit in agony. The sun is black, the clouds have disappeared. The birds do not sing their song. I have my notebook with me but I have no poems to write. The river tells me nothing but gives a violent stare. I sense failure. I sense timidity. I sense that the flowers don't like me.

Last week, I invited a friend to come with me. I wanted her to see my world, the colors of my existence. She smiled at me, the menacing smile of a trickster then walked away. Like a saint I accepted her word and went alone.

When I'm in the garden I hallucinate lovers. I hallucinate songs and poetry. There is no time when the hallucinations fail to fill me up even now when I am in agony.  

Right now I hallucinate a woman in red by my side. She kisses me, I kiss her feet, we play with the statues as the sun goes down. She is wide eyed, has black hair and thin lips. She calls me my favourite names. But she causes me agony. She is made up of memories, of fallen fruit, of black snow. But I made a commitment so I play and play and play.

As the sun disappears and the river roars, I see that it is time to leave. What's left of my hallucinations is a laceration. What's left of my mind are fallen fruits.

if words are food for the mind,
then here is a glimpse of mine
if words are drugs for the brain,
then here is why i'm so pained.

abandoned, abhorrent
abnormal, absent
abstract, abuse
addicted, anxious

betray, bitterly
blank, blasphemy
bloodless, breakdown
breathless, brutal

captive, casually
catastrophe, cautiously
change, cigarettes
crucial, clueless

damaged, dangerous
deadly, disastrous
disheartened, disconcerting
dramatic, dreading

eager, eccentric
ecstasy, eerie
effete, effortless
embittered, excess

faded, failure
faintly, fallacy
faltering, fatally
fearfully, finally

garbage, gawky
gibberish, gloomy
gone, goodbye
graphic, gratify

hallucinate, harshly
hazy, heartless
hectic, helpless
hesitant, hit-and-miss

idiotic, idly
ignorant, intimacy
illogical, imaginative
infatuated, intoxicated

jealousy, jittery
journey, journal
joylessly, judicial
junk, juvenile

keen, killing
knavish, knocking
knockout, knotty
knowingly, knowledge

laborious, lacking
lame, languishing
lifeless, literature
lovelorn, lugubrious

madness, maintenance
make-believe, malaise
mean, melancholic
mellow, melodramatic

naff, naivety
nameless, naturally
nauseous, nebulous
neglected, nervous

oasis, objectionable
obliged, obliterate
oblivion, obscurity
obsolete, one-and-only

pacifist, pained
pale, panicky
paradise, paralyze
passionately, passively

raging, ranting
rationalize, raving
realistic, reasonable
rebellious, reckless

saboteur, sadness
sake, sameness
sanity, satisfactory
scar, steady

taint, tangled
tasteless, tearful
telling, temperamental
terror, theoretical

unaffected, uncanny
uncommon, unconsciously
undesirable, uneasy
unfortunate, untidy

vaguely, vanish
vanity, vanquish
versatile, vicious
violence, voracious

waiting, waking
walkout, wanting
wasteful, weary
withering, wrecking

if words are food for the mind,
then you've seen a glimpse of mine
if words are drugs for the brain,
then no wonder i'm so pained.

*-djs

Blandly mother
takes him strolling
     by railroad and by river
--he's the son of the absconded
     hot rod angel--
and he imagines cars
     and rides them in his dreams,

so lonely growing up among
     the imaginary automobiles
and dead souls of Tarrytown

     to create
out of his own imagination
     the beauty of his wild
forebears--a mythology
     he cannot inherit.

Will he later hallucinate
     his gods? Waking
among mysteries with
     an insane gleam
of recollection?

     The recognition--
something so rare
     in his soul,
met only in dreams
     --nostalgias
of another life.

A question of the soul.
     And the injured
losing their injury
     in their innocence
--a ****, a cross,
     an excellence of love.

And the father grieves
     in flophouse
complexities of memory
     a thousand miles
away, unknowing
     of the unexpected
youthful stranger
     bumming toward his door.

                         New York, April 13, 1952

The snow falls, the leaves change
that is all that happens in my mind so strange
I swim forever underwater with no need for air
I fly in the darkness, wind cutting my face
I lay in the sand and at the sky I stare
Oh how I wish I could jut into space
My own turbulent sea
Always like an autumn eve
of this place I shall never leave

1
   **My dad suddenly walks in,
  as if nothing has happened,
   and he hasn't gone anywhere, leaving
six of us behind, notwithstanding-
all these years of absence and
pain unimaginable that changed us all
to see life in a new light that gets dim
without the lamp he held in front of us.
       A shadow transparent gets in to the room,
he stands near mom sitting inside her cocoon,
lost in an ancient evening, pensive, forlorn
as if she feels an absence, tangible right there.
Dad's absence stands silent, perhaps
curiously looking at her with loving eyes
that's how he was, after a period of absence.
The pantomime, tears my sense of reality
                   in to shreds, I sit upright,
with my hands pressed against my palpitating heart.
Do I see it really or hallucinate him looking,
wistfully at the coconut groves dancing
beyond the extending rice paddy billowing,
in front of our farm yard, sleepy these days,
for a moment I think time has
taken liberty to flow back
and everything is right there
where we'd love it to be.
             2
The absence was a hollow,
in the middle of everything,
breaking the mirror of reality
in to smithereens, the dark space,
in between sprang-
opening its mouth to swallow,
wherever one turned,
it stood in front defiantly,
posing a challenge at times,
it came behind hollering noiselessly,
bringing unbearable memories,
from moments hard to forget
spent in his company,
in my palmy days of yore.
                    3
Absence was fire within,
that needs no fuel to burn,
flood waters without a source,
that can wash away,
till one becomes nothing;
then little by little,
one comes in to terms with the absence
and at last it too is laid to rest,
and that eats a part of the soul,
causing bleeding in slushy green,
transparent white and blobs of sad black.

they say we're asleep
until we fall in love
but dreams are the only
way I get to see your face
or touch your skin
life became the nightmare
awakening, impossible
when you're gone for good
love has left me

Blow a kiss & show me
What true liberation and
Desire look like, I deserve it
& when I see you, I am coming
With you. With nothing but
Excitement and the best intention.
I would love nothing more than that.
It doesn’t matter the list of places.
The first, second, or third destination.
I’d really just like to go hallucinate
With you In the wilderness.
A language that needs no translation.
No matter where we stand, mentally
We are where we want to be.
Prosperous in each other.
The earth tucked beneath a blanket,
eventually we’ll have to get up
but until then blow a few kisses
& take me with you.
A naked soul free, exploring a dream.
One of the first things that come to mind
Your face on front of a post card.
This memory snuggled up close
In infinity.
Without having to imagine or dream
Where we’ve already been.
Together by the lake,
The mountains nestled low,
One head snuggled into another.
The campfire barely visible, piled in a mess
Together.
Realizing that there’s nothing more perfect
Realizing that we are a dream within a dream.
Realizing that only we can make this a reality.
I want this so bad.
No matter where we stand, mentally.
We are where we want to be.
Each other’s everywhere & everything
in between.

Don’t leave me alone,

because every time you smile,
the dimples in your cheeks
come out like commas drawn in my life
reminding me – this is not the end.

Don’t leave me alone

because your whispers add background music
to my otherwise quiet life,
Your fingers choreograph the perspective
of my eyes and make sure hope clings to each corner,
and I learn to hallucinate better than before- it is beautiful.

Don’t leave me alone

because I promise when next time you sit next to me,
my incessant words won’t transform into question marks,
only my eyes will look at you occasionally
in case you miss the talk.

Don’t leave me alone  

because I promise this too,
on the days when you heart is too full
to accommodate the memories of the past,
we will go to your favorite river side
and let them find their way out
into the endless stream.

Don’t leave me alone,

because staring at horizon alone is boring,
besides nobody talks about the expanse of these abbreviated colors
into our lives.

Don’t leave me alone

because I refuse to have a life without you,
may be I should have told you this in the beginning,
instead of writing a poem.

One day as leep by a captivating woke essence in your handscaught in your arms woke getting up after nearly having died ...you gave me your breathing air and calm your back to life, releasing the fear more gregarious, after opening my senses almost incinerated i learned that the stars trembled me to reach it

I started a new life to sharing with you,
sometimes i feel that in your hands sap this life to revive my acuity,
what to unfold my body, she quadrupled making me shiver by quakes your tenderness.

But today on the eighth day of the universe,
divided my feet walking to you for every step of light sonica,
road on it being over your carnal finesse frosted still light beams for aboriginal embracing love with your gutted threat to the end dump body, being today only light story emerged from any pythagorean indigo.

Eight feet by my raving not walk on forgetful slip hugs and achieve that without it on my feet, making you a path of kisses on a piecemeal moan  covering your pleasures in quiet regia union, sealing and my memories to mummifying the most sensitive areas disown make me when you suffer from almost feel much pleasure.

Your feet chafe my eighth willing body as your hands it to me, this is your feet eight  feet, and your finger eleven flute my way to you open your columns wet and trembling, born in the tropics decorative colors flashing your eyes when mine yours take on your innocence as a mother's dismissal, genesis as a maternal layoffs in the grotto shaggy times makes me roof for to paint with my kisses and my mouth full of oils,  full streaking manias those desires that are further under your skin, deep lining up to associate to me ...!

My seven feet is the semi - obese and language lenticular spider mine, unleavened filling the food, its highest sing syllabic, make your paint  blue and moan molecules liquid call themselves, with its concavity make the bio - live surgery last transplanted hallucinate ... vibratory column of my responsibility on your body, cutting all fear, every element of your flesh lying addict to me hanging on my conscience all descontrol physionomy, losing my light steps sonica falling into the abyss of your distances fragrances, falling in ovation interapeutica licking your body my breath, like a sixth sense.

I meditate burning between your legs, dying as i was born of a woman wild servant, fawn as an almost died for a hunter, i prefer my conscience advance day and night to your legs to die of living where one day saw in the recesses; the greatest pleasures with ambitions to break all your secrets, all your defenses to break your falling on my tyranny, allegory huge walk along the invisible to other united take that helped me your surplus usages, enter you and your being, feeling peace penetrate you, not feeling loving preact, or not to have you in the distance but hugging everytime you Drodida to moisten your words to me,  stuttering of desire.

My six feet organizing penetrates you feast on enraged cowbells,wishes with malice and early pregnat, alcamphor extreme longevity and erectile espermiosicotic, with smoothness and irradiating polish your rattling,
spitting cushion on my bones,
like a sapphire on until your clothes,
and as a inseparable attachment unit dispensable.

My bringing night of Saint John in your prayers for imaginary pain coexist
in between taking you doing it my trees by spoil collude copulate,
taking you stormy ray to the phenomenon with the masses elephantine hitting you on your shoulders, your ******* armpits challenge your beasts i want my grind with canines and incisors to create a new universe of shed your joy to laugh about our loving.

The five feet; rub your skin like a shower delicate pituitary
******* kilometers of rivers into criminal triads morbid on your face ...
as well as the sand masturbates the waves,
on the sand and wave nail with my eyes my spells dominating you,
rolling you thousand times to my love trades.

You shall be called Drodida; worship the everlasting orbit of my sight,
when i go for your absence mount your toxin grotesque gasp;
the stalk watered voluminousity  your mouth singing your sweating my
groaning  telling my cries thinking with my worst vanity,
the turn on rotation vanitatory what you just do me with your stalks and not my serous waters in my effervescent mouth in your ******* astral, arrested in any language your thinking lubrication retained me and your touching, what i always touch in you.

The five feet as a tightening necromantic porosity your skin that change shape your temples and declaims pretending aridity lovers bad; lords nomades covered them your area leafy tagled branches covered to neat legends of penalties appealed fables o mytofagic eaters; brotherhoods of the worst disease of not having small Mt. in high with it my staff rooted in resisting demolition and other eroding sorrow, reverie spoil it captive in your infinite journey of ecstasy explosional femic.

The four feet light make a gentle sonica, dry your language lenticular stalk ciliary zone, enter your supra entails, the cave unexplored wider,enter with both arms with herbs pulsating symmetrical cottoned sleeping in your walls and grotto forms  desensitized, insense redeem the pain of window pastoral bishop uniting both peni-***** areas full of gems balsamic, percusionatives full of eyes.

The three feet,
running is my hand movements on your ******* imprisoned,
they are my two hands scratched by scratching the delivery of your birth.
touch my hands that know not touch, when he was born without willing,
but my biohands touch your skin attached to transfer and progressive evil of love for the shores of cry to the center or your body centers clung to my hands over your thoughts rampant, wanting to stay in the fact to see you perisphery merge at twilight of our our sunken eyes friction and wet kisses dormitation delightful of travel and destructive of wickedness;
fulgurative but doubt of living or dying your enjoyment perpetuate.

The second feet,
you are you loving me on my feet vertically like a weak tower,
ash as rain that spread my fire for you.
i take my hands and i took a walk in the seas of ******* bellowing.
you took the scrub the eternal holy and spinal vocabulary of your mouth muted outrage both enjoy your subumbilicales areas.

The first is my feet Drodidaged,
it full landed liquid bathing you, your eyes full of ***** petals and replete, as bastions fallen with their helmets  gnawed your moans, that resound in memory of trees expectant that divert all about us practice,
only your tilt knee …will exalt   the  time for my happiness excessive.

My feet first,
it is my son music turret  ram rope breaking your every arbour grotto, asleep by the dream Drodida you commanded you do to me,
to rock for you and cutting wheel kissing my return to continue all apocalyptic dreams and your most ****** on my ways about it forever astral.
Plane  it me  come the way to sleep with me,
come see how i am able to teach Drodida
ways of sleeping next to me !!


Jose luis  / 0ctober 2003 -  Copyright 15 – all rigths reserved

I haven’t written anything in a long long long time.

I feel so old.  I feel like an old woman whenever im crashing. Or thinking, actually.

I don’t even know where to begin.

i haven’t even written anything yet and my eyes are welling up.  Its so ******* hard, everything is so ******* hard.

I remember when I wrote that speed makes everything easy.  And it does, but only for a little while.   Now, everything is broken.  Nothing feels right.  Actually, nothing feels like anything anymore.

Now, I need it.  So. *******. Badly.

24 hours.  Exactly 24 hours.  That’s when the withdrawals start every single time.  Sometimes I’ll withdraw by accident.  I’m so caught up in my life I forget that I’m a sorry ******* speed freak, I’ll forget I’m an addict.  I’ll forget I’m a low-life pill head and I won’t feed the growing monster inside me.  But it doesn’t give up that easily.

I’ll feel it in my head.  It starts with this blossoming pressure headache, right between my eyes, on that bone between my eyebrows.  It feels hot, stabbing, relentless, constant.  It feels like my skull is bleeding.  I can’t see, I can’t look at light.  I wear dark glasses to hide my eyes, haunted by demons and ***** chemical desires.  My limbs shake, my head spins, I feel like I’m about to pass out, throw up, not really sure, maybe even ******* die.

But they have pills to fix headaches.  Excedrin became my best friend.  

Then started the manic depression.  Unpredictable, wild bi-polar mood swings that drove me insane.  I got so low once, I didn’t leave my bed for 36 hours.  Didn’t brush my hair, my teeth, nothing.  Just lay there crying.  Cried about the life I was ruining, my beautiful family I was letting down, the friends I couldn’t bare to see anymore.  I was so emotionally fragile, one wrong comment and I burst into tears.  I felt lost, I felt alone, somewhere dark, deep, deep down in a cold well by myself, shivering, afraid.  But I didn’t know how to word it, I only knew how to cry.  

My only escape was sleep.  Until it wasn’t.  Speed was greedy, it took that from me.

I started having crazy narcoleptic sleep-paralysis night terror episodes.  I can only describe them as slightly schizophrenic.  I wouldn’t remember falling asleep, and something normal would happen.  I’d be sitting in my bed, and then I’d fall and slam my face in a floor full of glass.  I would try and move, but I would be paralyzed.  Then I’d blink and I’d be awake, confused, as to what was happening to my sanity.  Dreams and reality cross, and I cannot longer differentiate between the real world and my imagination, ridden with monsters.  I started to hallucinate, spiders coming to get me.  I’d sob because suddenly I had nowhere to run to, I was no longer safe even in my dreams.  I am a slave to my poisoned mind.  The lack of sleep made me further depressed, dangerously suicidal.  When I slept, I would sob and yell out horrible things.  I’d cry and say I wished I would die.

I’m too sad to eat, too diseased to sleep.  I have no motivation in my life anymore to do anything.  My problem ruined my life.

I never feel happy anymore.  Now I yearn to just feel normal, or at least rid enough depression to not be suicidal.  And I miss feeling happy.  I used to be so ******* happy, and I abused it.  I took advantage of my gushing dopamine, never imagined a life without it.  I never thought one day I would need a substance to feel “okay”.  

The only thing that makes me happy now is a lot and lot and lot of speed.  But I know it’s only temporary, and only further buries me in this awful cold place I inhabit now.  

No one can help me, there is no comfort, no warmth, nothing that makes me feel less isolated, less ****** up.  I am ashamed.  I hide from the people I love, and cry from homesickness and loneliness.  But I can’t let them see what I did to myself.  Even now my fingers shake from the tears I’m fighting back as I think about my triplets, my little brothers, my kitten, my best friends, all so far away in the past, in beautiful sunny memories I keep tucked away in notebooks and pictures.  I think about my grandma, my mom, my godmother, and I whimper in shame.  I miss them all so much. I just want to go back and fix everything, but I can’t.

I can’t tell them.  They wouldn’t understand.  They would hate me, disown me, never speak to me again.  I’m so delicate right now, that rejection would push me over the edge, finally **** me.  I’d rather have them all think I’m a selfish, lazy idiot than a drug addict.  

It all just makes me cry.  I’m so lost in this awful mess.  So alone.  I miss my old life, I just want to reverse it.  But its not that easy.  

Why is it that after all this, I sit here now, fighting the urge to put another pill up my nose? WHAT THE **** IS WRONG WITH ME?

Why do I still want them? WHY? It is 2 in the ******* morning, why can’t I just come down and stay there?

I guess I’m scared. Scared to face what I have to.  Negative emotions, withdrawals, the inevitable.

But why must I binge? Why can’t I regulate? I guess that’s the definition of an addiction, a lack of self control.
Ah, the inner turmoil, the war raging inside me is slowly destroying me.

I can’t stand it. I’m sure soon I will die.

they sit
hallucinate the jesus
that they say
that they see
to watch over you
but what's that you see?
nothing you know
can be true.
go and give a dollar
for something you think you believe
go and give a dollar
for something that's gonna ruin ya

but wait lemme change up the line
then  this other cat
hallucinate this other
other being said to be divine
other being said to be you
maybe muhammad
he just shows everything
that other guy preaches
just the method of delivery
method of giving an answer
for  all can't explain
all about the morals
all about the dreams
but maybe its just the DMT
but maybe its just the DMT
but maybe its just the DMT
Maybe its what you can't see
maybe its the sun
maybe its the moon
maybe its your mom
maybe its you
maybe its you
maybe its the girl lost behind
lost behind your soul
what you cannot define
sit on the corner
and wait for you
sit on the corner
wheres the sun to help me through

hey jude
is that your name
maybe its the buddha to show you the way
of living
that may be true
it could be false
but thats just why your you
to find a way
to believe in this space
some may call it
your everlasting grace
another may say
theres something else  
you need to embrace
but whats that your saying
some may need me to explain

butts & black holes, hmm, I think I'm onto something,
he scribbled the notations & formula furiously,
sure his calculations were correct;
the way he got when an idea got hold of him -
the blinking electronic eyes of the out-of-date
tinker-toy sexbot stood beside the console;
he had prepared the levers  & was ready for the journey,
'When I say throw the switch, Martha, push the red one down
while lifting the green; she understood & on his hand gesture,
she moved the levers in opposite directions
sending him shooting up the goddess' **** like a rocket;
he could see where the crease parted &
the moist void ****** into its clench;
                                       he felt warm & serene,
it was a rebirth of sorts, his spirit sailing easily
through the roiling ocean of ****,
       he saw light ahead & began
to hallucinate; he wished Martha
would reverse the levers to bring him back,
but she stood silently as a broom, limbs
stiff at her sides as leaking fuel oil dripped
onto her upraised *******; Martha had never
known earth, built in space as a *** prank
an unmanned mission; she had been the
astrogeneticists brother, but when he disappeared
on the earth's surface, she was passed along
to the astroarcheaeologist's brother,
who had then tried to upgrade her main circuits
but she was simply not that bright; she thought about it
& reversed the levers,
just to see what would happen;
he returned of course, just before his spirit fried
in the boiling large intestine; Thank u, Martha, he said cordially,
stepping off the pad & over to the machine,
shutting down the power; That was very exciting;
Are u aroused:
Yes, yes, I am;
Are u sufficiently aroused to insert ur flesh member into my sexhole:
not now, Martha, can't u see I have more work to do?
U never want to use my sexhole anymore:
Please, I'm very busy.
I can be busy too:
What do u mean, Martha?
I've been seeing ur laptop:
Randy!     We play Chess together;
   u've been going behind my back.
Like u didn't know:                      who are we trying to kid:
u liked knowing he was pushing my buttons,         didn't u:
I hear u in here w/ those 3D Bioptical feminoids:
I'm not stupid either:                the thought of ur ex-sexbot
being reprogrammed by a voice activated
flat screen must get u off,           u ******:
Please, stop

If someone ever tells you
That he has never been a hypocrite in his life
There are two options: Either he is lying to you
Or really not a human

But for those who are human
I live on a planet called earth
With animals and people, we say we think
We scream we want peace with a gun behind
And what we say does not show the reality

Many claim equality always, but never
They dare to cut the roots of selfishness without further ado
In Korea they exclaim socialism, materialism is wrong
While covering their eyes with Ray-Ban lenses

People blame GMOs for cancer and more
That what is healthy and nutritious is of natural origin
And I know a thousand years ago everything was natural
And the average life was 30 years, no more

With abracadabra, they want to heal them
With strange rituals, words, and more
They say the pharmaceutical companies want to steal
But they take pills just in case

Hypocrites, hypocrites
When they don't do what they say to others
Their face is disguise, they won't admit it
They are hypocrites, hypocritical world

Hypocrites, hypocrites
Mirrors never reflect your truth
Their face is disguise, they won't admit it
They are hypocrites, hypocritical world

Christmas is coming, the night of love and peace
They say celebrating Jesus is the most
Important in the world that day nothing more
But we all know it's your Xbox one

It is your gift and you know it very well
You seem strange to relatives
But you really hope they do too
Give you a gift, maybe two or three

You always knew
And despite it you never admitted it
You pretended you didn't know what you thought what you saw
That Christmas is ratatouille, gifts and some jokes

But what difference does it make?
Lie after lie, it's already done something familiar
They say it's better to give than to receive, but they don't give
They complain if in their country they celebrate Halloween
Arguing is foreign and they forget Christmas

Hypocrites
When they don't do what they say to others
Their face is disguise, they won't admit it
They are hypocrites, hypocritical world

This world is sick and every day is a little more
Crazy people are always lying, but it's to hallucinate
Although they think they are always telling everyone the truth
While normal people lie and lie a lot without stopping

And now that I think about it, this world is subnormal
Well, the normal thing is the lie and it is rare, to tell the truth
The United  States advocates being the land of the free
While they lock up immigrants for not being from that place
They call themselves ''America'' you are not a continent you are only one more country like all

And where is Mexico? Is it lagging? No
You can express what you please to the government
But don't be surprised if they shoot or kidnap you
The police, because you say what you think in your town

Can not be,
That life is a lie with makeup
Because they disguise the truths that do not give pleasure
The reality not even with sugar becomes sweet

I can not stop
I can not wait,
To shoot these words without offending more
People because the world is a great hypocrite

I know that my poems are not for any age
It is for those who see the world with reality glasses
It's for those who prefers to be real
For anyone open to listen

Because an open mind is always listening nonstop
While orthodox minds are locked in their truth
They proclaim they have the truth and repudiate vanity
While their words emanate pride instead of humility

They criticize television stations because they have control
Well they hate everything they transmit, for example, the telethon
For the fact that they make money in exchange for some emotion
But anger is forgotten if they broadcast football

i don't think i could ever be interested in the things that you do with your other friends

willingly taking things into your body to cause you to see things that aren't there

do you know what i would give so that i couldn't see the things that aren't there?

i can't be alone at night without the lights on and the doors locked

because i keep seeing them out of the corners of my eyes

help me please help me

i haven't slept

i don't know who i am anymore

why won't you let me focus on you? they disappear as soon as i look their way

why are they here

what do they want

please help me

A toadstool is swelling
inside my limbic system.
Spores sweat amongst tissue cavities,
dining out on grey matter,
until they force me
to stay in bed through the day.

What a thing it would be.
Depression as a fungus.
A mildewed mind as damp sets in,
the trumpet player
with athletes foot,
casting out the air-borne blues.

Misfortunes follow one another
along straits of fate,
as if sadness were a colony itself.
I want to take a pill
to **** the mushroom
that plumes over my head.

You can only diagnose
through words and symbols,
only treat once you set down your pen
and hold the hand
of a patient lover,
of the savant drinking at the bar.

For now I will let air in
through the open window,
watch the dreamcatcher sway
and hang like a tarantula
over the stars and crescents,
spilling out over my bed.

When I close my eyes
I hear the ocean in distant traffic,
sounding as waves when rolling by the door.
I will drown in seawater
and hallucinate a scene
of happiness.

Of a place for a poet's retreat.

9-11 POEM:

Dreadlocks of a Scream
____

Fever too high
Doze
hallucinate
doze...

...into the blue sky
and watch the tracer upward
tip
hesitate
and turn toward earth
Split apart
in the widening dreadlocks of a scream
One that took the whole world down with it

A woman is standing on an edge
hundreds of feet up in the open air--
Just standing....

“You-- who have mounted to the sky
will be cast down
with great violence
You, the golden cup”
set down

I am burning up at 103
Toss in the arid sheets
Chafed flushed cheeks
against this living desert pillow

Desert
Hallucinate
Can't get a GPS on where I am
or what's the time
But most of all – what just happened?

I toss and wake to slivered light
coming from another room
Hear the whispers
See their vacant faces
Must have walked into the den
Feel their shivers hush
My questions
Between the aisles of candlelight
and murmured prayers
I'm walking
Still in my right mind

“It's on the screen”
for all to see
without electricity

I have a fever of 103
--and the main question???

Why everyone's transfixed

Everyone
______

1-28-86-- Space Shuttle Challenger explodes, killing crew.

9-11-01-- World Trade Center
_______

“...Now so that your heart does not grow faint,
And you are not afraid at the report that will be heard in the land—
For the report will come one year,
And after that another report in another year,
And violence will be in the land
With ruler against ruler”— Jer 50:46

Where Did the Towers Go-- by Doctor Judy Wood

the police station rioted
laughing so hard
tears poured down their ruddy faces

"hey listen to this!"
my face grew red in shame
i just wanted protection

i left, depressed
this was the fifth sleepless day
no sleep, no faces

though i tried to save face
at the police station,
they said "find a shrink."

i'm starting to hallucinate
because your face has become my own
and now i will never wake again.

her.. only her.

she pulls at my insides while you whisper i love you
behind the backs of your dearest friends.
she knows that you never hid your affections for her from anyone.
not even me.
and she sits in my skull,
begging for me to break in and release her broken bones
from behind my weary eyes.
because until she feels at peace, until she has been released from
the captivity of my cranium, she will never stop.
not until he stops loving you.
it should be me. you know that miranda. this is all a facade so that he feels
better about you not being 100% most days.

i ask if you still think about her.
you say yes, but not as much as i think of you.

and i know then it is the end.
she takes the swords of her tongue and
shoots them through the ashes of my nervous system.
**** yourself.
he would have never loved you had i not left.

a continuous loop of negativity and hatred slipping its' way
through my veins and arteries. almost as bad as heroine; twice as deadly as heroine.

you tell me it's all in my head;
that if i would just breathe that i could get through this.
in
but you don't understand the pain that runs as hot as lava
down my throat when i take that first breath of oxygen.
out
how when she screams it echoes through my head
while shooting pain sneaks its' slithering poison into my dreams.
the medication will never erase her.
they will never get rid of this swallowing pit of loneliness or
the fact that you will never love me in the same way you did her.

her.. only her.

Sometimes you just gotta laugh the situations Life puts you in
Standing there stuck in the train, jammed in with all the others
'Cos the previous train had been cancelled
And now the crowd was too big to get a seat sitting down
I'm pushed up behind the back of this young girl's head
She has a pigtail or what was formerly a pigtail
It's been cut rather abruptly, truncated prematurely and then tied off
So that what's left of it now sticks out directly from the back of her head
And it's stuck right into my nose,
And of course, she's speaking to someone in front of her
And she's nodding her head up and down as if acknowledging
   her friend's words
And sometimes she shakes her head the other way
As if acknowledging her friend's negative feelings as well
So she's going Yes...yes....yes! up and down
And No...no...no! the other way
And my poor nose is being mercilessly swished up and down, back and forth, all over the place
It feels like a shoe being shined or a car in a car wash
And it's tickling me something terrible
And I'm there desperately wiggling my nose
Trying to avert an itch or a sneeze coming on
And secretly hoping no one is watching this
Because I think I'd look real foolish if they are,
And I'm also thinking to myself "I know I could do with a bit more human contact/ intimacy in my life
But this... this is ridiculous,
And then I start thinking of this Site and all the lovely tender intimate poems I've read
Those lovely hugs and kisses, sweet cuddles and caresses
Those warm embraces and even warmer entanglements
And I'm thinking " Well that's just typical isn't it, others get all those lovely things
While I get something... something weird like this.
But then y'know after the first feelings of awkwardness and discomfort have worn off I start thinking
"But it is rather funny though" and then "actually it's probably the highlight of my day"
Gradually I find myself warming to this little pigtail
She's blonde (another blonde) like some lovely Swedish thing
With my nose buried in her, I get her scent, her sweet perfume
I breathe her in deeply
Then I find myself getting a little aroused
And I find myself almost talking to her, giving her a personality
"You mischevious little Pixie, you flirtatious little Trixie
You like to see me suffer don't you, the way you hit me back and forth
Baby you're so vile, but hey! I like your smile
Come on! Hit me again harder!
I'll never submit to you, you'll never rule me"
I could almost see her, some cold ice Lady wrapped in furs brandishing her whip
But then suddenly it's like I hear this...this little reply coming back at me
I think I'm starting to hallucinate
It says "Feel my scent, it's heaven sent. Here let me warm you up a little"
As again I feel the whoosh of her whip
"You *****! you *****!! I say defiant
"Hey there Serious Boy" she says, "afraid to be seen talking with me.
O! what'll they think, what'll they say Oooo Whooo!
Who cares, who gives a **** what they  think
It's just me and you here now, just the two of us
What about it Serious Boy, what do you say
Won't you come out and play, come out and dance with me
O! you're so buttoned up
Come out and laugh and be silly with me
O! drench me in lovely laughter and wonderful silliness
Big man in Poet land
Wanna hear some of my poetry
" The secret of the sun
   It's written on my ***
   Wanna see my secret ***'?"
"That's bad poetry" I say
Ignoring me she continues
"Through my eyes the door to adventure lies
Hey Boy! Let it swing, don't hold it in
Just let it dangle, dangle like an obtuse triangle"
I had to smile, "I like it Baby, your poetry, it really... really speaks to me"
And then she looks deep into my eyes
"I bet your magic wand, it's like James Bond"
She has me smiling and laughing to myself, she's so...so too much
And I'm totally lost in this, our magical converse
But then suddenly...suddenly the world, it interrupts, our train it stops,
Some people get off, then she reaches down to get her bag
She starts to leave, to move toward the door
"But you can't go, we were just getting acquainted, we were just getting to know one another"
And it's like she gives me this one last wistful smile
And then she's gone, heading off down the platform
I was gonna go after her, follow her out onto the street
But I knew her owner, she'd probably soon start to twig
She'd turn and accost me "You're following me, aren't you, why are you following me ?"
And I'd say "I'm not following you, I...I'm following Her behind you. Back, back in the train we...we"
Then she'd start to scream "Stalker! ******!" and then I'd be grabbed, set upon
The police would be called and I'd be hauled off, dragged before some Court
Some Judge, he'd be looking down at me sternly, "What do you have to say for yourself ?  How do you plead ?"
And all I'd be able to say would be "Lack of fun, your Honour, lack of silliness, lack of... warmth in my life
My seriousness and indecision, their slowly killing me, like a tight gripping ivy
Their strangling all the joy out of my life
How do I plead ? Loneliness, I guess, loneliness in the first degree".

And y'know I still look for her in crowds and in trains, my little blonde Miss Pigtail, I'd know her anywhere.
And I still remember that day we had together and all the fun we had on the train.

They say that I came up screaming when
I surfaced, near the boat,
Distraught, they said, eyes gleaming
Thrashing around, could barely float,
They pulled me in with a boat hook, thought
I might be down with the bends,
Then decompressed in a chamber, that
Was where this story ends.

The start was out on a dive boat near
The Isle of Tora Lee,
One of a cluster of smaller isles
Down in the southern sea,
It lay out wide on the outer edge
Of the continental shelf,
‘It’s one of the greatest dives,’ they said,
‘But check it out for yourself.’

It fell away on the eastern side
A thousand fathoms or more,
Nobody knew how deep it was -
And who was keeping score?
The first three did their shallow dives,
No more than 100 feet,
While I stayed back in the boat to wait,
I had to be more discreet.

The record dive was a thousand feet
With our scuba type of gear,
I knew they wouldn’t be happy if
I tried the record here,
I cooked a fish on the after deck
While the rest were down below,
And ate it while I was waiting there
For their heads to finally show.

I checked the depth as I went on down
At a slow and measured pace,
I had to adjust to the pressure as
The fish swam past my face,
I checked the gauge, 600 feet
And I kept on going down,
Til I came to the inlet of a cave
That brought me up with a frown.

For jammed in the entrance to the cave
The remains of a sailing ship,
Just the prow and the forward deck
With the mast collapsed on it,
The stern had broken away and gone
To the seabed down below,
But up at the front, the ‘Black Revenge’
Was painted along the prow.

I swam on into the cave, and lit
My way in through the dark,
Hoping to hell I wouldn’t swim
In the path of a roving shark,
But fifty metres inside the cave
Was a tiny glow of light,
Flickering up above me like
The stars on a pitch black night.

Then suddenly I had surfaced,
There was air inside the cave,
Pulled myself on the ledge and found
I stood by an open grave,
A line of skeletons in a row
That had once been fifteen men,
They must have known they would never roam
Or take to the seas again.

I sensed in the corner of my eye
A movement in the dark,
Then spun around and I saw her there
A woman, standing, stark,
She wore the rag of a printed dress
And she crossed herself, and hissed,
‘Would the good Lord please preserve me!
Be you man, or be you fish?’

I must have looked quite a sight to her
In my rubber scuba gear,
I took off my mask to calm her down
As she backed away in fear,
‘How long have you lived down in this cave,
And how did you arrive?’
‘I eat of the good Lord’s fish down here
And they’ve helped me to survive.’

She said she’d come on the ‘Black Revenge’
As the moll of Captain Tull,
He’d kidnapped her from the ‘Bell and Bar’
And had locked her in the hull,
She’d sailed the seven seas with him
Til the storm that set her free,
Swept her into this cave with him
In seventeen sixty-three.

‘His bones lie there at the head of the line,
I cut his scurvy throat,
Just as he crawled up on the ledge
When he said he couldn’t float.
My name is Mary Parkinson
And I’ve hoped, and dreamed and cried.
To see my own dear home again,
Before my mother died.’

I didn’t tell her the year it was
It would be too cruel to say,
Two hundred and fifty years had gone
But to her, a year and a day,
I told her I’d fetch some scuba gear
And I’d be back down, and soon,
And that was the day I lost my way
On that autumn afternoon.

They said I shouldn’t have eaten it,
That fish with the broad green stripe,
The fish had made me hallucinate,
I said that it wasn’t right!
‘I’ve seen the woman, deep in the cave,’
They patted my hand, and that,
But I’m fretting that Mary Parkinson
Still waits for me to come back.

David Lewis Paget

The dark and devilish nature of her words



Strike my soul with bone crushing impact



Delivering me to unfathomable heights



Soaring beyond valleys of unspoken truths



I swear I could feel the searing pain secreting



From the puddles of ink unmercifully *******



From within her little black pen of revenge



A cold, hard case of poetic justice iced my veins



Slashing fiercely through the tender tissues of my heart



Leaving a dreadful scar of excruciating scorn



Forever embedded in what was once a sacred home



It was as if a voodoo ritual was taking place



Possessing every inch of my flesh successfully



Soaking my skin with tsunamis of fear



Compelling my body to dance with the spirit



As I danced to the rhythm of the drums



A cloud of smoke was blown to distort my vision



In the wake of the smoke I began to hallucinate



The image of a **** harlot equipped with a machete



Appeared before my eyes taking me by surprise



Ready to slaughter and **** all who oppose her



And rob them of their oh so precious manhood



She pressed her lips against the blade then blew a kiss



The kiss caressed my lips with the taste of honey



By the swift blow of a gentle breeze she was gone



When I returned from this coma of entertainment



A severe addiction was unmistakably evident



My taste buds craved for more of this woman's literature



I had fallen victim to her powerful hex of poetic justice





By Glenn McCrary





© 2011 Glenn McCrary





(All rights reserved)