Posts Tagged ‘addiction’


Remember those days of rebellion

At the Cott sessions on Sunday

In a beer garden paradise

All the wonderful women

All the dodgy guys getting away with it because they’re young

Pissed on cheap beer

Pub rock pounding from speakers

Nineties music all afternoon as it was the nineties

Running amuck with your mates by the Indian Ocean

Meeting friendly people at the OBH

Saying Happy Fucking New year at New Year to everyone

Falling into lust for delicious moments

Stolen kisses of consequential fire

Dancing in underage glory

Wild undulations as a dandelion being

Mega celebration enhancing existence

Experiencing bloated enthusiasm

With good friends before they deteriorated into addiction and insanity



You were the one with your brain of bone
You lie and you lie like a corpse in the grave
You steal and you cheat
Drugged-up delinquent
Haphazard hooligan
ADHD criminal
Don’t crunch my gonads
Don’t pollute my peace with your perversion
Don’t steal my shit, fuckwit
Look at yourself
Peak out of your poison mind like a craven turtle
Look at all the bad karma you generate
Do these words penetrate your alcoholic confusion
Enough to perforate your sump pump soul?
Don’t steal my piggies
Don’t beat me
Don’t pick on me
You in your dirty shot world with your perverted entitled personality
And victim mentality
With your tedious anecdotes of violence and oppression
Fuck you and your collection of dirty fits
Fuck you and your drug induced bionic paranoia
Fuck you and your painful polka-dot hallucinations
Fuck you and your endless addictive attitudes
Fuck you and your Jim Beam T-shirt and boganesque enthusiasms
You and your facebook friends can fuck off
Fuck you very much

Teenage prostitute smoking heroin (chasing the dragon), London. Model released.

Teenage prostitute smoking heroin (chasing the dragon), London.
Model released.

Heat the smack on the foil
Chase the dragon
Inhale the wandering bead
Chase the dragon
Wander through gorgeous opium fields
Chase the dragon
Go and score some more
Chase the dragon
While the longing is pure
Chase the dragon
While the hunger is vital
Chase the dragon
Chewing your own tail
Chase the dragon
Let the smoke rise to heaven
Chase the dragon
Let your consciousness roam
Chase the dragon
Let the ball burn across the foil
Chase the dragon
Collapse and nod off in a corner
Chase the dragon



Jack Mack loves his smack
Dream juice is his poison
Sinks into his wasted splendour
Like a warm inviting bath of angels’ tears
Seven times a day
Needle and spoon are his intimate friends
He’s fucked up every vein in his arms
And every one in his legs
He’d even fucked up the one in his cock
So he shoots up in the jugular vein in his neck
His blood is corrupted by Hepatitis C and his liver slowly rots
And every day is catalyzed by the alchemy of need
To take a break from hanging out, he sometimes smokes some weed
And benzos, codeine cough mixture, anything just to take the edge off pain
Of hanging out for opiates- nothing else matters
His habit is huge- a monk in the order of our Lady Perpetual Decadence
Track marks crucify him on every single vein
He’ll shoot up anything called dope then he’ll shoot again
His whole personality reduced to machinery to score
So he’ll keep on shooting skag, always wanting more.



Wretched creatures have
Wretched stinking lives
Dirty water
Sharpened knives
Wretched sleeper urges
Ugly wife through pain again
Dirty poison minds
Paranoia envelops
Dragon’s breath burns flesh black
Spittle sculpture rests on self-importance
Murderous blister pops a shoulder
Death reeks like dead fish
Maggot Brain squirms out of back alleys and out into consciousness
Nauseous Nuts shift’s his belt, farts and reaches for the remote control
Man who walks like a crab has an eye for asshole. It blinks.
Gibbon man with prehensile tail and knives for hands
Woman slowly mutating into a slug leaves a trail of slime
Woman with two vaginas giving birth to twin aliens
A birth defect so grotesque it is indescribable with human language
A deficiency of dopamine
Should stay off the acid I think



I take twenty Chemist’s Own strong pain tablets containing paracetamol and codeine
Dissolve in 40 ml of warm water, mix up with a spoon
The tablets melt into the water easily
Leaving a white mixture like milk
Let the mixture cool to room temperature
Then cool in the fridge for five minutes
Mix with a spoon and pour into a coffee filter on a glass
Wait till all the mixture is filtered
Drops of clear liquid from the filter stop
Throw away the filter and the white gunk
Drink the clear liquid – it’s bitter
Within in five minutes a warm feeling suffuses up my limbs and into my brain
Blessed apathy-nothing can hurt me
I just don’t care anymore
I have no anxiety
A wonderful internal hug almost as good as a real hug
Almost as good as a shot of smack
Feel so warm and heavy and cuddly
Not bad for eight bucks



Don’t cry, little sister
‘The lunatics have taken over the asylum’
They’re going to put the one percent in hospital to rot and fill them full of antipsychotics
They’re going to arrest all bankers and make business men wear clown-suits
They’re going to drop acid in Tony Abbot’s beer

‘The lunatics have taken over the asylum’
They say: ‘Purple rhinocerous bows to Buddha in a sunlit Sunday ceremony’
They say: ‘Roar like a dinosaur in jet-black dildo afternoon’
They say: ‘Green vomits slug creatures are crawling through my brain’
They say: ‘Beat your meat in sacred halls and behind toilet doors’

They say: ‘Let loose your inner Wookie’
They say: ‘Let your freak flag fly’
They say: ‘The only drug problem I have is not enough drugs’
They say: ‘Put ASIO on trial and sentence John Howard to life for war crimes’

They say: ‘Legalize all drugs and give addicts government subsidised jobs’
They say: ‘Nick Cave for prime minister’
They say: ‘The opposite of addiction is connection’
They say: ‘Golden dog turds in urine soup’

They say: ‘Free the weed man’
They say: ‘Kill the pigs and smash the state’
They say : ‘Channel the holy spirit of Rimbaud, Blake and Ginsberg’
They say: ‘Dismantle the military industrial complex and fold it into a metal origami’

They say: ‘I’m gonna get high till the day I die’
They say: ‘Om mani padmi hum’
They say: ‘Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me a sinner’
They say: ‘Maranatha’
They say: ‘Screen the police force for authoritarian personalities’

They say: ‘Suck sausages made from flagrant dingo gonads’
They say: ‘Give the blackfellas back their land and stop using coal’
They say: ‘Go dance in the sun-dappled gum trees of the south-west on ecstasy’
They say: ‘Grow opium and weed in the hills around Perth’

Don’t cry little sister
‘The lunatics have taken over the asylum’



I’m running out of cones
The guinea-pigs are squeaking with hunger
They also need new newspaper and attention
The bedroom is a war-zone, festering and corrupt
The sheets are dirty and full of holes
The floor drowns in empty cigarette butts
Dirty coffee cups everywhere
I’m running out of cones
My imaginary girlfriend has a boyfriend
I’m going to die alone

I’ve lost my mobile phone
I’m running out of cones
There are plates all over the floor
There are lunatics at the door
I am tired and I am sore
I can’t take it any more
I think you know the score
I’m running out of cones
I have itchy balls
Desperation crawls up walls
Madness lurks within the halls
My brain feels full of eels
You don’t care how I feel
I’m running out of cones



Sometimes it has to be this way
In animal hours of tedium
Metal silence almost overwhelming
Speak of beauty, wonderful woman
Green moistened rainforests
Golden beaches with azure rolling waves and lines of white foam on the shore
Little furry creatures- loyal, affectionate and cuddly
Succulent sunsets over the bush
Soaring red gorges of the Pilbara
Without beauty we are nothing

Speak of sacred things, my love
The moment after the tenth beer
The moment after the third cone
Silken whispers between the sheets
First kisses in sun-blessed decadent afternoons
Porcelain blow-jobs from heavenly angels
A woman’s hand on my body
Beers with Bukowski
Bongs with Ginsberg
Smack with Kurt Cobain
Speed with Philip K Dick
Acid with Hunter S Thompson at 12 midnight on the dot
Is this the essence of a good life?
Maybe a fantasy life.

Oh take me away to a foreign land
Where nobody knows my name
Where nobody knows my shame
A new beginning
A blank page
And I will live my poetry all over the page



Blue-uniformed blowfly stealing my stash
Moloch embodied with pseudo-military uniforms and bank-manager minds
Evil hollow fascist stealers of the sunshine in my heart
Crucifiers of Christ with their violence and their racism
Suburban nazi nice-hair getting in my face
Why don’t they go and bust some meth dealers
He says ‘Do you have anything on you?’
Fuck off pig buy your own damn drugs
These are mine
They cost me sixty bucks
And now you’re going to send me a fine
Which I won’t pay just to stick it to the man
Give me back my drugs you fucked up Nazi cunts
They would have soothed my brain to happiness in the late night anal darkness where spectral armies march across the war-field of my consciousness
They would have taken me to golden meadows of delectable satisfaction and calm green sunrise hallucinatory mull-fields
They would have inspired me to write cabalistic poems and howl at the midnight moon like a Wookie
They would have taken me through a tea-head trip of intricate pastel colours and conjured up an anxiety-free life
They would have enabled me to hear the song of Ginsberg renewed naked, innocent and genitally holy
They would have bathed my brain in THC and ripped out my inner demons
Give me back my drugs you fucked-up Nazi cunts