Long Intoxicants Poems
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Fantasy train
It’s night. Central London, the last subway train left Bond Street station.
The train was speeding along with me and a few other passengers.
A so powerful dream in a wonderful fantasy realm took hold of me.
My vigilance and self-control left me. Just sleep and sleep, and dream.
Wonderful landscapes, worlds, women, and intoxicants caused joy in the dream.
I feel a strong twitch and hear a loud shout.’ Sir! This is the last station!’
I woke up. An empty whiskey bottle fell out of my hand and rolled on the floor.
‘Were are we?’ I asked. ‘On Harrow and Wealdstone station.’ Came the answer.
‘From which platform can I go back?’ I asked. ‘From platform two at five o’clock.
It's one o’clock. Night. I bought a bottle of whiskey in a shop. Drink and just drink.
As soon as I lay down on an old bench in the street, I immediately found myself on the train.
On the train again. I continued my dream. Incredible visions, delights, I just live here.
Just here. Only here. Forever. I didn’t wake up anymore. A hearse took me away.
The words they articulate
Don't match their mouth movement
Their eyes shift and wander
Like gazelles bounding
Toward a golden sunset
Pierced by a jagged mountain
Before the sky opens
Like a cosmic flower
Revealing a sea of stars
And somewhere among them
I'm just a dreamer
Looking for deeper meaning
In shallow puddles
Thinking less of myself
And more of everyone else
But my feelings are in rotation
Like these lovely seasons
Flavoring my life exuberantly
While filling my cup with intoxicants
That leave me feeling all jittery
And my attempts at love are like lottery tickets
Because not a single one is winning
And I'm just wasting time and money
Pursuing what I don't want or need
In the hopes it'll bring me what I want and need
So in the end I have nothing I want or need
And I spend time daydreaming about what I want and need
And my thoughts are a pot of boiling water
Boiling so rapidly they're spilling everywhere
Just so they can evaporate in the heat
But maybe it's just my imagination
It's all here in my head
Dancing with all the words they articulate
Even if they don't match their mouth movement
Their eyes still shift and wander
But if I'm being really honest
I just want to find my golden sunset
Praise, a chronic disease
Ruins humanity
Increases sugar in blood
Spreads intoxicants in artery
Hangs a curtain before eyes
Hides truth.
Mind dips in self-enchanting
Always seeks false praising words
Credits
Clappings
Honours
Rewards
All treasures of materialistic world !
Mind guides the human
Mind commands the soul
Instigated by mind, human
Swims in the whirlpool of illusion
Hankers after pride and prejudice,
The album of achievement fattens day by day.
Praise fascinates mind
Increases the hunger of self-publicity
Ear always eager to hear
Rejoicing in the self, self-conceit grows
Touches the sky.
Mind misleads human
Wants sensual pleasure
Eyes roam over pages of newspapers
Magazines, the screens of News Channels
To see photos of praises
To hear words of self-illusion
Praise engages brain in his workshop
Deposits sheets of self-credit
Directly or indirectly, shamelessly speaks aloud
“I am the monarch of all I survey”
Thinks: he is almighty, Omniscient
Within him,
In the inner cell hibernates his soul
All alone
Sniffs the smell of perishing body
Not ready to tolerate false praises
In each unfavorable talk
Faces jealousy, conspiracy.
Soul whispers: I’m living dead
If you die, die unknown
Nobody would talk about it
Nobody would lament for you !
Stashed with programs recorded, which, condensed on universal files
Will tell them very little of what they don’t know and may never know
In this lifetime or the next heaven, in this orbit or the next
Treasure from this Earth loaded up on classical chips, some kind of text
Even the quantum loads with memory mimetic, made to mimic the brane
Will lead you no where’s at all, empty, with your mind well past insane
For what else or beyond could be so crazy as to part from this precious earth
Without ever having known it’s cost, price, work, measure or stint of worth
And clearly, those who leave, when they leave, will not have known one grain
Of sand or soil, mud or toil: all dusty plows pluming billow-clouds into rain
Run on gasoline or stocks of mules, donkey, horse, or ram, shepperd’s hand
Fields from lost fields, turning wheat from grass, rice from blue water land
The mystery of death and birth still a mystery; life a mere reminiscence
Without any real light here or plant photometry, only luminescence
Imagine leaving this planet without every having known it’s rhythm
Going to some other world set in it’s own path, with it’s Keplerian hum
Beating out some different drum, set in a blinding sphere of light and sound
Like blended whiskey with the Irish; or Navajo, without the calendar round
Sans irony, the starmen will consult their astrologer or star-chart for this logic
Countin’ the days before they land again when the stars are [csmo]allo-genic
Since this cosmos has revealed no light to them, the starmen going forth
Eager to jump off of Earth’s orbital path, bend and trajectory
Their spacesuits, ships, tanks, sabres, and thrusters made from the factory
Everything printed like plastic in hazy glow and in false dimension
In light and low gravity, with false smiles and fat charms hanging in suspension
How could the new age begin completely unaware, one might ask ?
With no real knowledge of how the past one ended, without a task
This high level of dimness, this naivete, and ignorance unknowing
Much like blind men on the river styx, or perhaps, along with Homer rowing
Going from one ruse to harbour next shenanigan—look into the Cyclop’s Eye!
No land in Egypt and with Dido elope, with the Siren’s despair, intoxicants in Libya
2/1/23
Shout out to Einstein
How has it not already been a sign of the times?
What a tragedy the way that Christ died
Too real it's lifesize
To this day we got all these wise guys
Full of white lies
Critically endangered species, while humans live with nine lives
Bodies of water becoming quite dry
Or turning into a high tide
Products on a continual price rise
Looking up at the night sky
What good it did for me being a nice guy
Only to be stabbed in the back by knives
Over five times
Experienced firsthand and seen through my eyes
The corrupt continue to hide crimes
Controlling public knowledge as they disguise finds
So out of the loop as time flies
I'll admit
Across all continents
People want peace and quiet or acknowledgement
Actions come with consequence
Or the opposite
I'm always on intoxicants
Yet to permanently call it quits
Remaining off the
Took y'all long enough, do you got the pic?
Sick of hearing it, you're too soft
I don't want what you want
In my mind more important matters do haunt
Grew up a poor kid
I'm more concerned with our origin
Than taking sides with all these opposing forces
I search for evidence on Aliens
Instead of just studying *****sapiens
They're upset by my actions, but I can't relate to them
I will do my best to study the unknown
Since they deny it all when so much is shown
Constantly they just judge and drone
So quick to paint pictures
Toxic like the fumes of paint thinner
The same as taking one too many painkillers
Not even making similar pay figures
Picking fights with grape pickers
Still it's the same strictures
Doubts frighten.
Temptations draw often.
Suddenly the spirit softens,
As the breeze whispers the sentence.
Pray; love God first,
And ye shall see
The great glory of God,
The Keeper, The Creator.
He shall show the way,
Even amidst the obstructive trees;
Only in Him, ye shall find serenity.
O child, heed thy mother’s words.
Know kin, know clan, know man, know God.
Wear the armor; split the timber.
God shall build the bridges thereafter.
Pray; love God first,
And ye shall see
The great glory of God,
The Keeper, The Creator.
He’ll shield; He’ll keep along the way.
Avoid intoxicants;
Only for Him ye must thirst.
Radiant brows grieve and fade.
Tears flow dry; thoughts darken.
Formed from the clay—
If He takes away, to whom will these belong?
He hurts those He loves,
And He smites those who live in pride,
So that eternally with Him we may dwell.
Rise, stand, sing, that others too may tell.
We shall see
God, The Keeper, The Creator, in great glory.
Though narrow the way,
His hand we shall grip firmly,
For He teaches sweet melodies.
Seasons fly like dreams.
Human life is like grass and flowers.
Love is cold; wickedness rises.
Behold—He is coming to gather His people.
I told the world about my cure
Nobody gave a damn
For a moment, I felt just like a god
I’m reminded I’m a man
That boulder that’s upon your back?
It’s a tiny pebble, bro
How big you think the audience is
To your one-man show?
In the theater of the deep escape
Nobody’s willing to pay
They just want junk and velvet drapes
And to block the crisis away
I told the world about my dream
They nearly spit out their drink
I thought they were all just waiting to hear
Exactly what I think
That guillotine your head is in?
Seems to fit like a collar and tie
And before you know it, it’s laundry day
Ain’t nobody cryin’ no soapy tears
The day on which you die
In the theater of intoxicants
No talk of want or privation
(Just) the carrying of buttery hands
From the lobby of negation
Deus de muitas formas
The god of many forms
Lights the ancient darkness
Killing European norms
So come and swoon the Soma dream!
No curtain can conceal!
Tiny vagrant aristocracies
Amid sugar and ramps of steel
The maddened wench of river escape
Kills her child to feel
Don’t you be another Lennon ape
Crying, “Nothing is real”
Don’t be another Lennon ape
Singing, “Nothing is real”
Getting high is a state of mind:
and this altered sense
of reality
can be achieved;
without chemicals.
Life itself offers a natural high
free for the taking.
Running injects a runner's high:
a euphoric, feel-good
burst of energy.
And a belly laugh is
like shooting up:
instantly lifting your spirits
and leaving you feeling giddy.
Meditation calms you down safely,
helping you find your balance;
while taking you on an inner voyage
of self-discovery.
Music touches your soul
and your heart
unlike anything else can.
And yet, fueled by adrenaline,
dance can take you to another level.
Nature's natural, fragrant intoxicants,
such as lilac or lavender,
give your mind a sense of well-being.
So, if you want to feel high,
why not give life a try?