Archive for the Psychonauts Category

virgin suicides tell the strangest stories…

Posted in afternoon requiem, Ha Ha Funny, Intervention, Laughter, Learning About Life, Poetry, Psychonauts, TWTC with tags , , , , , , on November 22, 2011 by Caribbean Fool

addiction vibe

i was laying around
thinking about predestination
making further existence
somewhat superfluous save
my experience of seeing
self-fulfilling prophecies
work themselves out. i
ain’t a prophet.

here we sit, thinking about
chaining ourselves to some
peaceful-lie & locked onto
some deterministic fantasy;
each left as another
snake oil salesman
shilling potions of
questionable value.
mine are obviously
the answer for you.

if it seems like
all the mirrors lie, if
sugar tastes like shit
even in fading afternoon sun
after a midday nap, then
persistence is virtue
but flags are all waving
in the rain. anything
can go too far.

i’ve felt the claws
under my skin, same as
you’ve felt yours. i
know what it means, just
don’t make me leave;
i like it here just fine.

while delusional fate-dancers
are swinging from ropes,
playthings become work/job
while i sweat blood in
some ceremony of cleansing
i know i’ll dirty right up
first chance i get. knife
me in the throat if you want it
over quickly;
i don’t expect much. it
might take a while.

after everything is written
nothing is complete.
sounds through an open window
testify to another world
outside. there is someplace
else after all.
i’d just rather be here.

———————————————-

Wait; do YOU remember yesterday? What’s it like to be able to do that? Fuck me; you can’t listen to anything this day & age.

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sam cooke sings while i write…

Posted in bumper sticker stories, Cigarette, Ha Ha Funny, Laughter, Loveable Losers, Philosophy, Poetry, Psychonauts, thoughtful trips, TWTC with tags , , , , on September 29, 2011 by Caribbean Fool

my own world

there was talk of black
curtains to fence me in but
we didn’t need anything that
serious getting in the way.
natural light to one side
of the neural window; add,
subtract, see how it plays out
& never worry.

playing pretend with glass pistols;
billowed smoke playing the bullets
sprayed around the room hoping
for gawdsake that nobody
gets hurt. the psychonauts ride
again for points distant.

————————————-

It’s been a while since the psychonauts rode. The time is coming soon & if you’re not ready, opt for sanity and hope. All others 5 cents a head. That’s meat for the roaster; we are the fire under the spit.