Chopsticks for Eating Peyote
Ah! Chopsticks: sign of civilization.
Peyote, psychelicious not.
The scupulously vile-tasting cactus,
Mushy and light green,
Queen of the desert, holding the treasure,
Of incandescent reality,
Of astral projection on earth,
Of extra-sensory projection
That really, like, freaks me out.
Out-of-touch with what is,
One is free to roam the 2
Dimensions of the tracing hand,
The tiger burning bright,
The lunar madness of a single step into the dark.
The crossroads lead nowhere
But to the heart of matter,
An hallucinated suspension bridge,
All-enduring,
Reassembling the brain,
Rendering it whole again.
poem by Stan Petrovich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I Give You My Soul Through Pain
Who wants my honest soul?
I want to be free when the devil is in control.
How much would you give up to buy it?
How much would you give up just to try it?
Let the astral projection begin.
Breath in, breath out.
Picture your self in this unholy body.
Then let the soul draining commence.
I will put up no defense.
It is an absolute surrender.
It is an absolute sacrifice.
In the upright 5 pointed star with a circle with candles surrounding.
A ritual to a perfection.
A Wicca call to the powers of nature.
From the earth, fire, water, wind, and lastly the spirit.
Inflict pain to make it stronger.
Brighter, and more powerful.
Strip the body bare,
Let artificial cloths not shield what's really there.
Rise up, stand up, you need be ashamed it was the we were all made.
With our own weaknesses and strengths.
A unique complexion shall be inscribed upon each every living creature.
No matter if of seems inanimate or not.
Who wants my honest soul?
I want to be free when the devil is in control.
How much would you give up to buy it?
How much would you give up just to try it?
Let the astral projection begin.
Breath in, breath out.
Picture your self in this unholy body.
Then let the soul draining commence.
I will put up no defense.
It is an absolute surrender.
It is an absolute sacrifice.
In the upright 5 pointed star with a circle with candles surrounding.
A ritual to a perfection.
A Wicca call to the powers of nature.
From the earth, fire, water, wind, and lastly the spirit.
Inflict pain to make it stronger.
Brighter, and more powerful.
But the true power is the power within.
You can feel it pulsing through veins with every single beat.
Your heart can never be compromised.
A man will love till his dying breath
Your mind can put you in clouds when your feet are solid on the ground.
Seeing a reality not in existence yet.
The gypsy curse some say.
The mumbles of an old man getting grey.
Who wants my honest soul?
I want to be free when the devil is in control.
How much would you give up to buy it?
How much would you give up just to try it?
Let the astral projection begin.
Breath in, breath out.
Picture your self in this unholy body.
Then let the soul draining commence.
I will put up no defense.
It is an absolute surrender.
It is an absolute sacrifice.
In the upright 5 pointed star with a circle with candles surrounding.
A ritual to a perfection.
A Wicca call to the powers of nature.
From the earth, fire, water, wind, and lastly the spirit.
Inflicting pain will only make it stronger.
Brighter, and more powerful.
The fireworks are constantly going off.
They light up then slowly die.
This is life in its simplest form.
And why does it ever have to be any more complicated then that.
Like a like a little I wish upon these stars.
Hoping it get easier.
But in all reality I know it never will.
But I do still try to enjoy my seldom and few far between frills.
Who wants my honest soul?
I want to be free when the devil is in control.
How much would you give up to buy it?
How much would you give up just to try it.
Let the astral projection begin.
Breath in, breath out.
Picture your self in this unholy body.
Then let the soul draining commence.
I will put up no defense.
It is an absolute surrender.
It is an absolute sacrifice.
In the upright 5 pointed star with a circle with candles surrounding.
A ritual to a perfection.
A Wicca call the powers of nature.
From the earth, fire, water, wind, and lastly the spirit.
Inflicting pain will only make it stronger.
Brighter, and more powerful.
Inflicting pain will only make it stronger.
Brighter, and more powerful.
Inflicting pain will only make it stronger.
Brighter, and more powerful.
But the true power is the power within.
You can feel it pulsing through veins with every single beat.
Your heart can never be compromised.
A man will love till his dying breath
Your mind can put you in clouds when your feet are solid on the ground.
Seeing a reality not in existence yet.
The gypsy curse some say.
The mumbles of an old man getting grey.
But the true power is the power within.
And some things can be just given.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ballad of Our Love...
oh so pure is the projection of this dream
my only dream – upon our past…
I’m giving birth to how our love
would have been life’s most tender home
and to how gracefully our souls
would have been blessed…
and I am painting you the picture
of our passion and delight
and I am rhyming you our every day and night…
come, hold my hand, my man, my mate
it’s not too late…it’s not too late…
here are our mountains and our moors
our savage bushlands and our shores…
here is the forest of our weightless
wondrous Mays…
oh so pure is the projection of this dream
my only dream – upon our past…
you are my pride, my boy, my guide
and I’m your womangirl, your brumby
I’m your butterfly, your dawn
your fawn, your bride…
come, hold my hand, my man, my mate
it’s not too late…it’s not too late…
here is our house, our cherished haven
here’s our kitchen, here’s our bed…
this is the bright and brilliant ballad
of the words we would have said…
oh so pure is the projection of this dream
my only dream – upon our past…
these are our children, see them smile
while they are playing in the yard…
this is the everlasting thruth
I’m gently laying in the lightrose of your heart…
poem by Rikki Keller
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Anniversary (November 24)
The treasure of trees
golden mounds
on the green ground.
Urged by the morning sun
yellow leaves
coruscate in chilled air
radiant
with the afterglow of a summer
well lived.
But thirty-two years ago
the light died
when dark death’s hand
seized your struggling heart.
We buried you,
bright treasure,
under still
green grass.
The mud from your grave
clung to our shoes
as we wept our grief
in bright puffs of white breath
ascending like incense
into the good sky.
And thirty-two years later
I still choke on bitter sorrow.
Tears
still sting my eyes.
But looking through the bright window,
I see in November’s gold,
a faint reflection
of the enduring glory
that lights your
endless day.
poem by Steven Federle
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Fractured Moon
Fractured moon
In a silver spoon
Dissolved into the eyes
Of awakening tiger
Then moved away
In a vanishing light
With a lunar tone
Fractured moon
Swallowed
By a flying dragon
With all fire and no fire
The fractured moon
Collapsed in doom
While the souls
Of the dead
Still roam
Closer and closer
Near the moon
Around the moon
Within the moon
Or what have left
From a
Fractured moon
Or maybe
Another Moon
Like a photo of
A bright image
Held by aging fingers
Of a woman
Praying in her
Upstairs Room
For “long” dead
Human loved form
Near the bolted
Green back door
Stood a ghostly figure
Of an old man
Weeping
In the silence of
An astral night
Trying for an opening
To reach her
Over and over
But in vain
For the woman
in the
Upstairs room
Darkness born
In the second shadow
Of a fractured moon
And light moulded
In the old house
In a special corner
of
A very special room
Fractured moon
In a silver spoon
Dissolved into the eyes
Of awakening tiger
Then moved away
In a vanishing light
With a lunar tone
poem by Najib Altawell
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In the final analysis, a drawing simply is no longer a drawing, no matter how self-sufficient its execution may be. It is a symbol, and the more profoundly the imaginary lines of projection meet higher dimensions, the better.
Taming The Tiger
I stepped outside to breathe the air
And stare up at the stars
Big dipper hanging there
Over the rented car
Over the rented car
Im a runaway from the record biz
From the hoods in the hood and the whiny white kids
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And Im taming the tiger
(you cant tame the tiger)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Sophia says its hard to catch
And harder still to ride
The time to watch the beast the best
Is when its purring at your side
Purring at your side
Accolades and honors
One false move and youre a goner
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And Im taming the tiger
(you cant tame the tiger)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
Tiger, tiger burning bright
In the forest of the night
The moon shed light
On my hopeless plight
As the radio blared so bland
Every disc, a poker chip
Every song just a one night stand
Formula music, girly guile
Genuine junkfood for juveniles
Up and down the dial
Mercenary style
I watched the stars chuck down their spears
And a plane went blinking by
And I thought of anna
Wild and dear
Like fireworks in the sky
Fireworks in the sky
Im so sick of this game
Its hip, its hot
Lifes too short, the whole things gotten
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And Im taming the tiger
(you cant tame the tiger)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
(boring!)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
(you cant tame the tiger)
Oh, be nice, kitty kitty
(boring!)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
(boring, boring!)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
(fight to the light, fight to the light)
In the forest of the night
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The (Sixth) Sense
The gray cloudy sky scream(ing) s
Only icy clouds throw down their hail-on the earth-
To kill the green (belt) with their viole(n) t dance-
And (to) red(d) (the) shadowy earth- still cries-we are alive-
Throwing up all its war(ren) shadows to the sky
To reach the per(im) manent heaven with their painful sacrifice.
The heaven strenuously may (h) eat the pain (through)
In silence- we are existent-we feel the pain-
The last remnants of the green may rustle in the leaves
Trying to soak into the rotten yellow.
The blue may (stage) whisper in the breeze,
Holding the memories of the past.
Voices from extra dimensions
(I live adding new dimensions to my life)
And psychedelic visions
May irreversibly modify the (sixth) sense of the reality.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Eye of the Tiger
Tiger, Tiger burning bright
hunts his prey by neon light
Real or bleached, you know the kind
big up front with a sweet behind..
Tiger, tiger, none too bright
Left his cell phone in plain sight
When Elin saw his contact list
She grabbed his driver in her fist.
Four hundred yards straight off the tee
Tiger drives that easily
But when his little wife went clubbing
His face and lawn both took a drubbing
Tiger Tiger burning bright
Doesn’t like the bright spotlight
Yet on his off days he’d resort
To pros who play a different sport
Tiger Tiger made a tape
of Tiger 'eagaling' his date
It came into the hands of 'Vivid'
If they release it he'll be Livid
Tiger, tiger lost Gillette
And Gatorade sent their regrets
Now he’s hawking Trojan’s Wares
and lady Clairol for Blonde hair.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Tiger by William Blake
Tiger! Tiger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tiger! Tiger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Inner Heart
If in darkness die
I should this night...
before see I rise
faint pale moon light...
Tell her of ardent cherished
love scent still endures perception...
with an inauspicious intensity
beyond bridged visualized astral projection...
Beseeched God willing
attaining heights in heaven beyond compare
love consummated will
united be... Divinely Possessed Sphere.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Black Bruises IV
I can gorge the vile blackness,
the eviscerated acquiescence
like a dog-eats-dog carnival
I can endure the struggle
tasting blotted inks,
tasting cheap champagnes,
tasting one's molting skin,
tasting a chance to begin,
tasting cold greasy dishes,
tasting stark carnal sin,
tasting tar and nicotine,
tasting saline misery,
but am I the only one tasting
these black bruised savors?
poem by Norman Santos
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Roam Baby Roam
All the midnight callings
'round my shoe, 'round my shoe
all the midnight callings
from me to you, from me to you
take this land I hold in my hand
let's travel far and roam baby roam
I got my hand in this jar
and you can have what's mine
roam baby roam
let's roam tonight
roam baby roam
in my arms tonight
leftover pasta just won't do
it's time for liquid madness
over boiled craziness
half baked mental craze
here we go again!
we're roaming free
going absolutely crazy!
roam baby roam
I got you and you got me
roam baby roam
we gonna be free
we gonna be free
poem by Sara Winters
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My Texas Desert Heaven
There's no tree,
As far as I can see,
The cactus are always green.
There's alot of sand,
But oh man,
This is my Texas desert heaven.
The stars are nice and bright,
The moon shines over desert sky at night,
That's My Texas desert night.
It's like being in Heaven,
When it rains it smells so great.
This is where my heart roams and stays,
This is My Texas Desert Heaven.
poem by Christina Muniz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wandering Soul
I travel the Earth and the astral plains,
I’ve lived most my life in guilt and shame,
Shame for the life bestowed on to me,
Guilt for the demons I couldn’t set free.
I saw the horse prints in the sand,
I was stuck in travel of no man’s land,
The sand was hot and the sun was high,
I had to keep going but wanted to die.
The minutes turned to deathly hours,
Shallowly Cactus’ no sign of flowers,
Every grain of sand seemed my encumber,
No sign of rain no sounds of thunder.
I travel for days in search of a vision,
My soul it carries many incisions,
Incisions of darkness, incisions of light,
I’m a tortured soul that welcomes the night.
I try to reach many but only a few will hear,
The sound of my voice or my footsteps near,
I travel in the shadows of days and nights,
I try to step over and cross into the light.
I am dreary and my energy hardly glows,
I’m what you call a lost and wandering soul,
Drifting over the hills and across the plains,
No one see’s me or knows my name.
© 2011 Wind Songs Spiritual Poetry
poem by Annalee Hopkins
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Esp
Strength to have extra perception
Extra perception to know
that evil is lurking inside my brain
Evil is making a home of my heart
Extra Sensory Perception...
If only I had the strength to
let go and not try to escape...
poem by Justin Schaefer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Step Out Of Hell
(m&l - weikath)
Tme has come
Start your search for tomorrow
No escape
From that long trail of sorrow
You dont know how it keeps goin on, oh no
Wake up out of misty dreams
Evil drug is starting to grab you, to grab you
Step out of hell! -
Demons dancing round your brain
Step out of hell! -
Streams of madness flow through your veins
Step out of hell! -
Go on like this youre gonna be dead
Step out of hell! -
Take my hand I wanna help (but can i? )
You did your best to keep yourself down
Give it a rest and just turn around
Its only a one-way street of lies, yes it is!
Living in a twilight zone
Get away out of that drug jungle,
That drug jungle
Step out of hell! -
Demons dancing round your brain
Step out of hell! -
Streams of madness flow through your veins
Step out of hell! -
Go on like this youre gonna be dead
Step out of hell! -
Take my hand I wanna help ypu
Another line, have a good time you dont mind
To turn your brain inside out to serve the final rite
Step out of hell! -
Demons dancing round your brain
Step out of hell! -
Streams of madness flow through your veins
Step out of hell! -
Go on like this youre gonna be dead
Step out of hell! -
Take my hand I wanna help you
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Arab's Farewell To His Horse
MY beautiful! my beautiful! that standest meekly by
With thy proudly arched and glossy neck, and dark and fiery eye;
Fret not to roam the desert now, with all thy winged speed-
I may not mount on thee again-thou'rt sold, my Arab steed!
Fret not with that impatient hoof-snuff not the breezy wind-
The further that thou fliest now, so far am I behind;
The stranger hath thy bridle rein-thy master hath his gold-
Fleet-limbed and beautiful! farewell! -thou'rt sold, my steed-thou'rt sold!
Farewell! those free untired limbs, full many a mile must roam,
To reach the chill and wintry sky, which clouds the stranger's home;
Some other hand, less fond, must now thy corn and bed prepare;
The silky mane I braided once, must be another's care!
The morning sun shall dawn again, but never more with thee
Shall I gallop through the desert paths, where we were wont to be:
Evening shall darken on the earth; and o'er the sandy plain
Some other steed, with slower step, shall bear me home again.
Yes, thou must go! the wild free breeze, the brilliant sun and sky,
Thy master's home-from all of these, my exiled one must fly.
Thy proud dark eye will grow less proud, thy step become less fleet,
And vainly shalt thou arch thy neck, thy master's hand to meet.
Only in sleep shall I behold that dark eye, glancing bright
Only in sleep shall hear again that step so firm and light:
And when I raise my dreaming arm to check or cheer thy speed,
Then must I starting wake, to feel-thou'rt sold, my Arab steed!
Ah! rudely then, unseen by me, some cruel hand may chide,
Till foam-wreaths lie, like crested waves, along thy panting side:
And the rich blood, that is in thee swells, in thy indignant pain,
Till careless eyes, which rest on thee, may count each started vein.
Will they ill-use thee? If I thought-but no, it cannot be-
Thou art so swift, yet easy curbed; so gentle, yet so free.
And yet, if haply when thou'rt gone, my lonely heart should yearn-
Can the hand which casts thee from it now, command thee to return?
Return! -alas! my Arab steed! what shall thy master do,
When thou who wert his all of joy, hast vanished from his view?
When the dim distance cheats mine eye, and through the gath'ring tears
Thy bright form, for a moment, like the false mirâge appears.
Slow and unmounted will I roam, with weary foot alone,
Where with fleet step, and joyous bound, thou oft hast borne me on;
And, sitting down by that green well, I'll pause and sadly think,
'It was here he bowed his glossy neck, when last I saw him drink! '
When last I saw thee drink! -away! the fevered dream is o'er-
I could not live a day, and know, that we should meet no more!
They tempted me, my beautiful! for hunger's power is strong-
They tempted me, my beautiful! but I have loved too long.
Who said that I had given thee up? Who said that thou wert sold?
'Tis false-'tis false, my Arab steed! I fling them back their gold!
Thus, thus, I leap upon thy back, and scour the distant plains;
Away! who overtakes us now, shall claim thee for his pains!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Freaks
(derek dick, mark kelly, steve rothery, peter trewavas, ian mosley)
Have you ever met a lady, screaming angst potential?
Have you ever dreamed of romance, no matter how experimental?
Have you ever felt an alien drifting back into your hometown?
Did you think you were buying safety when you bought that piece of ground?
She said all the best freaks are here
She said all the best freaks are here, please stop staring at me
So I said all the best freaks are here
All the best freaks are here, please stop staring at me
Have you ever woke up, sweating in the middle of the night?
You search the darkness and youre scrambling for the light
Have you ever walked down the street, heard bootsteps following you?
Dont worry my son, youve got the spook squad looking after you
He said all the best freaks are here
He said all the best freaks are here, please stop staring at me
So I said all the best freaks are here
All the best freaks are here, please stop staring at me, stop staring at me
Airport terminal, patiently waiting on the last call
You feel the eyes burn the back of your head
Sign the autograph, get out of the picture, gonna have the last laugh
Feel the whispers as you head for the plane
Stop staring at me
Love and linen sheets seem so very far away
You save your pennies and you buy another day
But after all its only hide and seek, just another game
Theres so much fun to be had when youre living with a name
All the best freaks are here, all the best freaks are here
Please stop staring at me, all the best freaks are here
All the best freaks are here, please stop staring at me
Oh, stop staring at me, oh, stop staring at me
They said all the best freaks are here
All the best freaks are here, please stop staring at me
All the best freaks are here
All the best freaks are here, please stop staring at me
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Take Anything Personally. Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won't be the victim of needless suffering.
quote by Miguel Angel Ruiz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dark Matter
The reason that Dark Matter
Isn't very bright
Is possibly it's travelling
Much faster than the light
What is Dark Matter?
Does it matter that its dark
Does it matter that its matter
Is it some form of art
Dark is the opposite
The opposite of light
Matter is but matter
In the day
Or in the night
Light matter
Dark matter
Multiply
Divide
In one or the other
Each of us hide
poem by Egal Bohen
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