mescaline

The Apothecary

Located  deep within the bounteous and 
fruitful Ambrosia of my medullas' oblongata,
resides my naked imagination 
  -Feast you on my Dreams 
and tighten your meaty fist
around your delicate golden spoon.
 -Inflame you on my embers
your passion 
purged like the immortal icor
now webbing through your dry veins..
Till the sapless shroud collapses
and scatters into the dry desert sand.

a blind and thoughtless tongue
forages recklessly across
your chin..
the last drop
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Transcendestiny

into the dark treed forest

cease the dream
come with me
Enter the darkened night 
wander lusting searches sight
to weigh the days
till dusk wakes dawn.
The Ancient ones await
amongst the jade treetops
bright jeweled stars 
chrysanthemum fractal  
scenes beam with 
 shimmer dance of night sky 
fire glow in distant clearing
the time is near.
 drumbeats meaning
the time is here 
a ceremony undertaken
the grand vision
smoke stained eyes 
the mind awakens

infinite waves of bliss 
lick from the living breathing sea
the shore 
eroding the deep chasm of time
a stained glass mandala 
caught like a dream
like a
prism of dew wet web 
lacing together 
the continuum of time to space
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Past, Placenta, and Future

when i was just an irresponsible fetus

kicking away in mothers womb,
I heard words spoken and
didn't know what to make of them.
sounds of noise and vibrations
soft as a feather falling into 
a freshly-snowfallen meadow.
 a silence that reverberates 
the heartbeat that courses in a whoosh
the blood of life in the veins webbing through
the tissue-paper -thin pinkness of my skin. 
the formation of the first thought?
A meaningless synapse of neurons?
am I alive?
Why? 
What is the meaning of all this madness?
Fluidly viscous ethereal colloid bubble
My amniocent-thesis ?
 As i laugh and kick away
in the drunken bliss of innocence.
  - And here she thought she had gas.
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Infinity Plus One

How relevant are we as heaps
of wasting organic matter
to think think that we have some purpose
than whats already in the cards
dealt for us to play in this life ?
As in vain as we are as whole,
and bold we are to enoble 
ourselves to such worthy a cause.

What is missed is the simple fact  
we have no more say than the next 
who looks to the same sky as we ;
yet we as sure as the sun shines
go forth ever onward seeking
something hididng from being found.
Naked eyes and naked bodies
watching the hands go round and round
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Next Lifetime

I find it unbearable 
to   look,
at   times,
   and 
          avert 
       my 
 eyes
despite
 a beauty so fair 
my eyes  
should  not 
contain  nor
      spy .    
Your
         pink foot-prints  
      dance a lovely dance 
 across my grey brain,
   and your scent
      plays chase 
          with my pen.
 
Maybe next lifetime.
 
For in this
  in-credible 
    life that we're in,
      I find it hard 
        to ignore
      If this force that I feel
     Is some time portal 
    back
and your body;  
once mine 
to explore
 
But
   until that day;
   may I bask in the embrace
                 of your 
eyes                                from afar?
                 and 
In
 the
     sanctuary 
                 of 
                   your mind
          do you              long for
                   the    same ? 
I have felt eternitys blue eyes
   tip   toe   up    my    spine.
                     
So              maybe
 ill see you   next lifetime;     
Ive got
 ice 
to chill  
the
 hottest
 and the 
reddest 
of the  
wine
 
 dont be late.
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Peep Show

Folder: 
Perverse & Bazaar
If poems were tongue
and mind was vagina, 
i bet
you would come
to 
read
mine, huh? 
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Knowing

Knowing  is a relative term..

   Ask the ocean why.
   Ask the Ocean what it sees or knows...
   and sit with pen-in-hand 
   and write .
 
(she sighs)
Its too deep......to vast .....
    infinate salt grain time capsules
    made prisoner by ink-stained  paper?
 
"Surely I  have gone mad"
       (laughter)
    - Can the ocean know?
"It has spoke to me"
 
It speaks to everyone
 
"I stood on the edge of the beach"
      -it draws you in man
          -im tellin' you it does....
 
Her eyes never beheld it-
 
Miles of white sand
the pier.
the clouds.
The voice of the ocean.
 
Its an old mans voice..Low and Smooth
    It says "never forget"
      and tells of Pirate Death
    and message bottles
      Secret pleasures that
    cause sunken treasures and 
      fears that stain the shore.
 
The place I want to be scattered.  
 
 
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