DOSE:

1 bowl

smoked

Cannabis

BODY WEIGHT:

155 lb

and it's well-spaced
'Sunday, March 22 - 2009'
so i haven't lit since
election night
=========================================
I was baptized under the showerhead
I was sewn upon the ground

there is not one moment with you that i do not receive
some intimate information about my nature or what my body is requesting
the in in in in's are beginning to shuffle mmm wmmm mm

it is god's garden,
it's the angel's hedgerows

it spurs me with dense rushes telling me to stay from technology
this time I'll break it
it shows me my placement from all surrounding angles
=====================================================
it gives me a new eye for the natural world
like a dead man usurping an infant's face to view a field once again
it is lifting oneself out of Hades in order to vview the bluue pink and yellow once morre
the smile carries it out
and Mephistopheles or whoever pulls you back in again
-=================--=================----
it disarms and de-panels the ideal
like blown solar plates
it is the satellite of the world
you'll stay in the dark room and still hear the static telepathy
you'll still feel the hot sun like it's being sent back in on a discus of light
--------------------------------====
it inspires capitulation
it is a one-word judgment without malice,
just peeeeeeling the answers back
like a sticker's back
it is understanding all
-----===========================
it is turning my body to thousands of leaves twistling down and off a tree's bark
it is becoming the leaf-pile and being blown into liquid propeller leaves
it is all of fall's colours surrounded with deep lush greens
it is the palm frond cocoon
set at perfect temperature
it is 'WHAT IS IT THAT REALLY MATTERS?' in Hollywood's best god voice
and recognizing that is a new sensation in the skin

----------------------------===
-------my whole
system is ------------===
reporting--------------------------------==
----------------------==
-----===
----------------==

it is nature's last defense against the unnatural
it's the ghost in the highway
it is the manual (instructions)
shifting to manual (setting)

it is the ever-reclining race car
the roller-coaster network of neurons
it is the limb-loggering high-jump

it is a warm vat for the satyr
it is the lei garland necklace that you get off the plane in Hawaii

it is the ecstatic, imperfect mess
spliced frames
unsequenced until you can cut-and-paste the moments and truly live them
not reading the instructions to the nerves and cells

all in-between thoughts have been banished for the constant flourish
it is a tactile heaven gym-court
know that you don't
have to live five seconds in the future of each fragment

it is all the drapery being shook and thrown off and down the street
IT IS THE FIRE WITH THE FINGER SNAP.
it is placing your mind in the CD tray ----and ACTUALLY GETTING TO LISTEN.-----
----------------------------------------------------------------------------============
===============================================================================
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------========
realizing there are more channels devoted to you than you can ever flip the cards on

it is that touch-and-go foreign language you keep threatening to invent
it's getting a brand new bellows to breathe with
stomping down stairs by the stained glass
up by the church organ
and it's knowing EXACTLY how to play that church organ
and getting to play it your way at 7am for a well-lit church congregation
taking the top down off of the cathedral
then being seated at a plate
of sunny side up eggs afterward
all yellow and white
just like me
because I'm pure
AM I? mostly

it is knowing the music-tracks on every incense stick
and smiling knowingly to your friend
when you come across it in your record collection
it means getting to share that laugh,
knowing you're both in two completely different places
grabbing hands over great distances

it is a profound thought
being served to you every day at the same time
in your cranberry purple, yellow-covered reform school
it is every noon a school class trip
to some fond, vague, Austrian meadowland
you'll be seated upfront
with your pupils pushed back

leaping at lilies like cheap puppets
'SHOWING THE DOG HIS OWN FACE'

it is the wood of the cabin and
THE TORSION OF THE SLUG HEADING DOWN THE STEEL
with no salt around
------------=====================---------------
all blue green now
its the cut leather swaying on native clothing
the gentle breeze
--------------============--------------
it is the nerve-ending dance which no composer has written for yet
no one has tried
then you realize nothing decent has been done yet
BUT IIT WIILLL!

it is getting to swim in the crystal lake with its light-red-yellow-blue divers and
gemmed stalactites

it is the whole wealth of personalities known
at your fondest perusal
it is 'REMEMBER THAT BEAUTIFUL FACE THAT YOU NEVER LOVED?'
it is falling on your back on your seat letting nerves charge
electrified in jolts
it is letting things fly at full mast
it is getting the soul's autograph and going home on the bus of life happy
it is foot-peddling the ceiling like an infant
rolling-ovrrr like a bohemian jaguar right after a rest in the jungle's core

is it sparking all the kindling on the smile
it is fine ways of transmitting insights into humanity

it's moving like you can breathe underwater

IT IS THE FROSTY BOB-SLED RUN OUT
into the verdant valley
it is more fun than you can record
far better than any mass experience

===============================================--------=============----------
--------------=================---------------==============--------------=========
it is always telling you to leap to your feet
fall back into a pillow if you want to have a downtime

you'll find it's also all the stripes on the pillow come off on your back
it is all those psychedelic viewfinders from childhood
slights of the optics

thrills from those magic eye posters
with the hidden image that none of the teachers could see
or a magic mirror which reflects us all

it is the third-eye chromatrope
it is visionary company
============================================--------==================

it is the prismatic train taking looonnnng leeeaaaps off the track
taking higher strides each time

it is anything that prevents your father from talking
it is the FF>> wedding to post-ritual speech
it is leaping on the plush chair savage-like
and throwing a leg over it carelessly like an angel on a tuft of cloud
it is stretching your legs and doing chores that would've bored you
exercises that can't begin to exert you
art that spindles out of you in a daze
part of the nameless, but
un-ashed hours
========================================
----------------------------------------
it is nothing like its been made out to be
you should be ashamed of calling it anything but what it is
it's bedfeathers without concerns,
it is a re-connector...

Exp Year: 2009	ExpID: 87203
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 24
Published: Mar 3, 2012	Views: 3,432
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Cannabis (1) : Poetry (43), General (1), Unknown Context (20)