Posts Tagged ‘smack’

Dank

Posted: April 25, 2017 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

cones1

I think this weed

Is dank indeed

I said to Captain Cone-head

I don’t need

Coke or smack or speed

As long as I have this dank weed

And I will never go to seed

Captain Cone-head pulled his cone

And muttered something snappy

I said I’d be so happy

To have a shitload of this weed

So that I could be high indeed

And wear sunglasses like lou reed’s

Routine

Posted: April 25, 2017 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

routine

It’s a mean routine

To make his dreams

Each step the same as those before

The woman leaves him wanting more

It’s a mean routine

It reams his dreams

Angel’s wings and cloaks of black

Enormous gnarly hits of smack

It’s a mean routine

It screams out dreams

Vampire fangs and simpering squares

Let my feelings ride on air

 

We smoke cannabis

Posted: December 20, 2016 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

bud

We smoke cannabis

It’s so good for us

Pull another cone

And get really stoned

Have a shot of smack

And get really wacked

Do some LSD

Then some ecstacy

Please stay off the ice

It’s not very nice

I like doing drugs

Sometimes I see bugs

Tripping out my head

I will soon be dead

Heroin in spoon on black background

Heroin in spoon on black background

The sun hits the sky
Like a fist in the eye
And I feel like I’ll die
And I feel like I’m fried

The smack in the spoon
Is sucked up by a fit
And it’s coming on soon
And it’s really good shit

The woman explodes
Through her nipples and nodes
And I feel like she’ll die
But I’m just not sure why

The torture begins
And the faceless ones win
The moon cures the air
There’s a stench of despair

The sun hit’s the sky
Like a fist in the eye
And I feel like I’m high
And I’m just not sure why

oak

What does it mean to be free?
Free to smoke too much weed without getting hassled by the pigs
Free to meet ladies of easy leisure in funky pubs
Free to shoot smack and smoke ice till my brain falls out
Free to drink sixteen pints of beer and stumble down fractal streetscapes
Free to stay in and vegetate watching crap on TV
Free to scheme esoteric schemes
Free to dream esoteric dreams
Freedom not to bullied or hassled out by anyone
Everyone should have this kind of freedom
Man Free Woman Free Gender Queer Free
All God’s children dancing naked in an oak tree forest in sensuous spring
Bounded by a crackling stream rolling over rounded rocks
Sky a hallucinatory blue with a gorgeous rainbow

Hallelujah, Praise God from whom all blessings flow

Pegasus_

I am riding Pegasus the winged white horse
Sired by Poseidon and birthed by the gorgon Medusa
Ears pinned back by vortex speed and kaleidoscope visions
Faster than sound, faster than light, faster than consciousness
Then we arrive on an island in the Pacific

There is a coral reef a hundred metres off
Waves break like curtains falling in the middle distance
Coconut palms, scent of the suggestive sea
High over sea gulls squawk and spiral
The water is almost flat, darker green further out
It laps the shore quietly

Pegasus whinnies
I hop back on his back and we are off again at hyper-speed
Watching the world whizz by like a fast-forwarded film
One object blurring into the other until there is just a mandala of colours
Then we are in Egypt at the weathered face of the sphinx
It’s expression inscrutable but no less mysterious for that
Ancient and crumbling
Old wisdom messaging the present
The sun is horrendously hot and I begin to sweat
Pegasus rears up on his hind legs and flaps his wings

Back on and I am taken to the house of a poet
He is starving
He is hanging out for a shot of smack
He is typing till his fingers bleed
He is smoking cigarette butts he’s picked off the street
His eyes are blood-shot and googly crazy
And he is one of many
We will visit this night

christ
Twist a string of beads
Around a witch’s waist
Build a crappy tent of bulbous bones
Against the rabid rain

Which pelts poison in your brain
And soon drives you electrically insane
Nerve toxins in the neurons
Birthing paralytic rictus
And quasi simian spasticity

Beat a rubber eel upon a warlock’s wobbly bits
Signify a morbid mountain of madness
Spit upon the surfaces of suppurating melancholy
Dance into the crack within the nothing
Like a stoned fool on smack
They’ll never want you back
Until all is black as boots and empty

Taste a poxy potion of hallucinatory mushrooms
See Christ crucified with the head of a Beast
See the many horns and eyes of the beast
See the real Christ crucified in pulsating pain
See the wood of the cross multiplying across Europe
See the Shroud of Tourin photocopying a saviour
See Christ crucified on every tree
And every tree a Bible
See towering cathedrals of light hidden from mortal retinas
Fractal kaleidoscopic sun structures of infinite intricacy
Bedazzling and befuddling desperately then
Faces without eyes emerge from the void
Like fungus growing from a corpse

Flashes of spark-light phosphorescence against the windows of the skull
Mad carousing reptiles wrap their bodies around a totem pole
Wood hacked to grinning skulls piled to heaven vertical
Fire flickers and the children of light dance their circle
Drums beat a rumbling rhythm that hypnotizes
Summoning old Spirits to bring in a new age

lonelyperson
Fuck this shit
I like women
Women don’t like me
It’s a conundrum
A paradox
Who the fuck wants to fuck a middle-aged fat bastard
Who the fuck wants to cuddle up to someone sweaty, bloated and pointless
How much longer will I self-destruct:
For love
For the sake of pain
For madness
For joy
For kicks
For blitzkrieg insanity
For lack of a good woman

I like women
Women don’t like me
I am:
Too fat
Too lonely
Too desperate
Too maudlin
Too pathetic
Too weird
Too stoned
Too drunk
So I have another beer
And I have another cigarette
I have another cone
Occasionally I have a shot
And exude infinite soul-longing for silent death-bliss
Which will come on like a shot of smack and euthanize my emptiness
And set me free to roam the realm of Spirits
With angel’s wings

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

heroinspoon

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.