Medicine

Take your medicine you flagrant wookie

Spread mercurochrome first lover unannounced

Bend unwatched while my delusions frenzy

Slake magnificent hart crane harlequinss

 

Laura will I love you make this weird

I will take you to places feared

Mark my innocence before your spittoon

Hide out with me in a sacred room

 

And that’s what makes it so magical

The moments when I talk to you

I can’t believe what you’re saying

And I know what you’re displaying

 

Talking to me

Through your primitive ancestry

Lurking beneath algic fronds

Like an octopus

 

Magnifying stars

In dodgy bars

Be with me baby

Until mutant time

Makes geeks sublime

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Weed

Chop up about half a gram of green crumbly weed

With some tobacco

Take a pipe, and fill it with the mix

Ignite and inhale

Almost always cough

 

Don’t you love it when that warm satisfying numbness

Invades your brain and settles into your body

Kisses your cranium and renders you stoned impervious to paranoia

A rush of green apathy and carefree abandon as eyes redden

Loneliness fades and anxiety dissipates

Music starts to sound like crystal stars floating through the ether

Everything is more amusing

Everything is beautiful

Thanks to magical marijuana

 

Fear of Death

Corpse of a clown
Face without eyes
Deadweight diatribe against earth magic
Maudlin musing about nocturnal naughtiness
Dead grey foetus in a rubbish bin
Dead eyed optimism
Dead eyed consumerism
Corpse of a chorus girl
Makeup blurred, legs spread
Paranoia, Paranoia
Meanwhile many at the old folks home are
Entranced by the possibility of a quiet death
A quick death
Sacrificial mechanisms confound and confuse
And Paranoia seeps in
Encrusted with schadenfreude
Beaten to a spaghetti consistency
Squeezed through skull
Aching for cold lips
Of death kiss
Corpse of Marilyn Monroe
Necrophilia
Paranoia, Paranoia
Eyeball sliced like an egg
Eye-juice oozes
Poison gas pass-times eat away the soul
Napalm nightmares blaze across the cranium
Paranoia, Paranoia
Road-kill retro-action to circumvent cynicism
Squashed cat somnambulism
Body-bag of broken bones
Corpse of a junkie
Fantasy zombie collapses
Cold in a corner
Paranoia, Paranoia
Rigour mortis
Statue of the living
Physical indelible memory
Every corpse like a leaf in the wind
And a cell in the body of the grim reaper

Empathy part 2

Symbiotic empathy
Is precious as platinum
Person to person network pulsating
Holding hands with minds and mutual goodwill
Understanding pain like nails hammered into souls
Interdividual manifestations of companionship
Mirror-feeling alien emotions of others
Can unite us like no other magic
As we are social animals
When we feel the other’s pain
And can imagine their journey
Compassion flows like honey

Twiddlers

Come all you twiddlers at the edges of sanity
Come all you cases, you syndromes, you diagnoses
Come all you students of advertising for secret messages
Come all you crazies, you weirdos, you saints, you martyrs
Don’t be afraid of your aromatic nuttiness
And take it all a bit too far
Dance in the mud on magic mushrooms while angels dance in your hair
Nod of in a corner on immaculate Thai white smack
Smoke rock and get a tattoo of a Wookie
Thrive on the helium atmosphere of pixie dust perversion
Hit on your nurses and steal other peoples’ medication
Baste your bottoms in cream cheese and stuff that monkey full of plums
Until it feels more real than sanity knows while your madness grows

Beat down the bushes around your consciousness and let your spirits soar in infinite space
Because now is the time and this is the place

The Mask and Myth

The mask and myth of the man contain magic
As the old man fades and consciousness burns
The mask and myth of the man contain magic
No ghost within- no homunculus pulling levers

The mask is impervious to sanity and shame
Embraces drunken hours and stolen kisses
With wild red-lipped wanton women in seedy bars and clubs
The mark of the man is the power of myth

The myth of the man leaves the old man lost inside
Alone and hollow like a broken bulb
The old man rots, the old man dies
While myth and mask grow stronger outside

The mask and myth of the man contain magic
The myth is debauchery, decadence and power
Wine and wild women and punk rock enthusiasm
The mask and myth of the man contain madness

So long worn the mask cannot be moved
The mask and myth of the man contain madness
The man now the mask has nothing inside
Personality blended with extravagant creation
The myth and the man have nothing to hide

Magic Mushrooms

In the nineties
Kuta Beach, Bali
In town, a big red and white sign advertises magic mushrooms for all to see
The store is populated by Balinese stoners
They offer my brother and I mushroom milkshakes which taste like crap
Costs fuck all
Half an hour later we are in a club
Lights are strobing, speckles of disco-ball reflection flicker over pretty women and ugly men
They are mutating
Suddenly the club is filled with well-dressed reptiles
Forked tongues lick thin scaly lips
They look like human sized dinosaurs
Myriad species
Scales are glistening soap-bubble rainbows
Some of them are wearing boob-tubes
On stage Jimi Hendrix is playing and he’s wearing Joseph’s coat of many colours
When on mushrooms, if you see Jimi Hendrix in the road, treat him as a roundabout
For a while it all seems pretty cool
But then I am scared of the reptiles’ fangs
I am afraid they will eat me
‘I think I’ve got the fear.’
I say to my brother as his head swells up like a meat balloon and he grows vampire teeth
‘I’ll get you out of here,’ he says.
We stagger out of the club and he put me in a taxi after threatening the driver with terrible consequences if he didn’t take me to our hotel
When not on hallucinogens, driving in Bali is adventure
With them it was a journey through a wild starlit wonderland with no road rules and oscillating headlight illumination
We seemed to be on the Starship Enterprise travelling at warp speed
Then we made the hotel,
Outside were some trans-sexual prostitutes
One shouts out: ‘Hey boss, Jiggy jig, me love you long-time, me dangy your wangy’
I reply ‘Fuck off! You’re freaking me out!’

I take the elevator and enter my room, lie on a comfortable bed and bad trip demons are gone
I watch walls slide and shimmer downwards and visit a magical fairy land of coruscating colours and shapes
Kaleidoscope patterns of infinite variety form a miscellany of shapes on walls
Always moving, always changing
Eventually the transformation of patterns starts to slow down
My hallucinations are reduced to fading translucent double images
Then I fall asleep

Pebble

Pebble air-born
Splash
Signs of disturbance
Unsteady waters
Ripple emotions
Time as ocean
Butterfly effect
Iterate reiterate
By wave to now

Egyptian Mummy
Out of proportion
Chronic torsion
Of flesh, skin and bones
Crackle
Crumble
Pulverized
To dust by grinding stones

Tonal manifestation
Oscillation
In proximity
Not intrusive
Subtle
Pulsing synthesized quavers
With Margaritas
And Marijuana
And Magic Mushrooms

Observed by saintly silhouettes
Catalogued by webcam weirdos
Consumed to accumulate pointless inebriation
Till revolution falls from the sky