Posts Tagged ‘cones’

the-she-wolf

Twisted down and broken

Maddened and unopened

I take my time

Mired in slime

From the moment

Into the meat of each echo of the moment

 

Howling bone

Couple of cones

Dead weight daydreams

Silent death screams

Being gentle with myself

Cut out the super-critical conscience

Look at the evidence for negative self-talk

Rest and let the spirit run

Through fields of daffodils

Like a stallion

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John Berryman

Depraved Piggelie wanted a pile of pot

Laugh Piggelie while your empire falls apart

Cry Piggelie as you mess up your brain

Howl Piggelie to the choir of naysayers

Rupture your sense of entitlement

Cling to a holy and beautiful lover

 

So what of it, Mr Cones,

You pilfer your darling’s sanity

You rest your hand on her pussy at midnight

Why do you think you are so special?

What clockwork conspiracies lurk in your mind?

You are nothing in a void of nothing.

 

Piggelie didn’t know about a universe of pain

A torrent of poison rain

Creep, creep of paranoia

Dead weight of depravity

All converging on the point of the conversation

In spiralling synchrony

cannabis-cup-640x401

Cones make patterns in my brain

Cones will never fuck your veins

Cones make music shimmer and sing

Cones make life a better thing

Cones make sex a funky thrill

Cones are much more fun than pills

Cones will clear up your depression

Cones will help your self-expression

Cones are crumbly, cones are green

Cones will never make you mean

Cones have brought me stoner friends

Cones will make your suffering end

You

Posted: January 8, 2017 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
brian-family-guy-blunts-bongs

You turn me on

You smoke a bong

You bend me out

You are a lout

You break me down

You spin me round

You trip me up

You steal my cup

You funnel me through

You break me blue

You frenzy my penguins

You crack me open

You dance me dead

You fuck with my head

You encompass my accidents

You scramble my sentiments

You embrace my ravings

You focus my cravings

You tremble my bones

You hog all my cones

Medical Marijuana Doctors

Captain Conehead has balls of brass

Captain Conehead has an iron plated ass

Captain Conehead says pull that cone

Captain Conehead has a huge bone

Captain Conehead says skoll that beer

Captain Conehead isn’t queer

Captain Conehead will kick your ass

Captain Conehead will smoke your grass

Captain Conehead writes dodgy poems

Captain Conehead sees underpants gnomes

Captain Conehead takes lots of drugs

Captain Conehead buys them from bullies and thugs

Captain Conehead is single and free

Captain Conehead drops LSD

Captain Conehead is a psychedelic freak

Captain Conehead is strong not weak

Blast my brain

Posted: December 10, 2016 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

dali

Blast my brain

Beat my teats

Christen my flow

Caress my glow

Bend my gonads

Skip my monad

Stretch your ears

Skirt my moat

Stitch your trousers

Slit your throat

Shiver my senses

Hack my systems

Trance my twat

Question my existence

Fondle my eel

Cuddle my carrot

Deny my intellect

Corrupt your bones

Pull a few cones

 

 

his_messy_room_by_ibrahimamr

He  turned around and said
“Life is passing me by
And soon I will die
I seem to be having a problem with my lifestyle
Sitting in the detritus of my life
Festering away in daydreams
Counting ear weasel delusions
Breaking wind and smoking bongs
Mired in mental excrement
Emitting waste and crap all over the floor
Beer bottles, Energy drink cans
Empty cigarette butts, filthy plates
Life at an easy pace in subterranean sickness
Sorrowing, breathing, dying inside
Snapping time into chunks with cigarettes
Watching TV
Dicking around on the iphone
Waiting for something to happen”

insanity (1)

So deranged and kind of strange
So hard to try to rearrange
Bent and twisted out of place
Always I am off my face
When I’m aching in the wind
The bind that twists the bind that cuts
I’ve never felt quite so alive
Until I saw your midnight smile
Maybe we can wait a while
Now you’re gone from dropping pills
You cut yourself off from all who knew you
Never woke from sleep
And died alone
While I try to rearrange
The vampires that bend my brain
Into some sort of order
Take stock of my paranoia
Call my very indulgent employer
Stare out into infinite space
I will never know my place
Like you in death I am alone
I think I’ll have another cone

jacknicholson

She said,‘When he walked past me I felt a shiver down my spine. But I wasn’t sure if it was a good shiver or a bad shiver.’
She said,‘I asked him if he was a bikie. He looked like a bikie’
She said, ‘He said no’
She said, ‘Then I saw him coming out from the IGA, with beers’
She said, ‘And I said hey baby come over here’
She said, ‘And we had some drinks
She said ‘I know he’s a good man even though I’ve only known him for three hours’
She said ‘Have you got ‘dreams’ by the cranberries
She drank all the wine, and spoke too loudly
But she was like a firecracker, so full of life
I felt good for my mate, he’d met her in the psychiatric ward- the rsvp for the sanity-impaired
I wished them both well after we had gotten really stoned on two sticks
They left me a few cones
I thought to myself- I’ve got to get back to the Gigglebin, and they left

orange_bud

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