Stoned Again

Posted: February 25, 2014 in poetry
Tags: , , , , ,

I think I can taste the top of my head-
Which seems so useless and so funny.
Colours and music weave together criss-crossing in new harmonies.
Sounds form patterns in the air:
Four-four beats have four sides.
I am born again as an empty shell of a man but warm and comfortable:
No anxiety,
No panic,
No problems,
Sticky and Crumbly joy,
Green light of dreamless night,
Infinite compassion and blue calm waters,
Inhale, exhale through curlicues of smoke.
The world gets better with every toke.

  1. bejamin4 says:

    A really cool line: “Sticky and Crumbly joy”. Love that.


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