this weekend was a bit of a binge:
caffeine
nicotine
alcohol
marijuana
tramadol
cocaine
all consumed quite incidentally; i don't really set out to get twisted, these days, but i struggle to say no "if it's going". ok, i bought 24 beers, and i drink tea and smoke cigarettes quite liberally, but the rest was all passive consumption.
drug use is interesting for me at the moment because it is a very one-dimensional experience - gone are the days of getting properly mind-bent and enjoying synaesthesia and hysteria and whatnot. it is mood-altering at the lowest level, because it is false, and the more i take the more conscious i am of the thing that doesn't sleep or distort - the "still, small voice", though not in any religious sense. it is the voice of preoccupation, the voice of query, and i suppose that is the aspect of my psyche i am trying to appease (yet also sustain) with my poetry.
...it's interesting to observe the development of an inner rivalry!
anyway, i'm not being gloomy or anything, i had a nice weekend with good people who are probably thinking the same thing. tell me about yours!
***
finally, something new:
caffeine
nicotine
alcohol
marijuana
tramadol
cocaine
all consumed quite incidentally; i don't really set out to get twisted, these days, but i struggle to say no "if it's going". ok, i bought 24 beers, and i drink tea and smoke cigarettes quite liberally, but the rest was all passive consumption.
drug use is interesting for me at the moment because it is a very one-dimensional experience - gone are the days of getting properly mind-bent and enjoying synaesthesia and hysteria and whatnot. it is mood-altering at the lowest level, because it is false, and the more i take the more conscious i am of the thing that doesn't sleep or distort - the "still, small voice", though not in any religious sense. it is the voice of preoccupation, the voice of query, and i suppose that is the aspect of my psyche i am trying to appease (yet also sustain) with my poetry.
...it's interesting to observe the development of an inner rivalry!
anyway, i'm not being gloomy or anything, i had a nice weekend with good people who are probably thinking the same thing. tell me about yours!
***
finally, something new:
Trakl
You bore witness to the accident,
and at stretchers, breathing gunpowder,
you soiled your artist's hands
tending wounds delivered by no god.
St Georg of the Hoary Ordure!
Born with glass eyes, and eyelids, too.
Poet-apothecary, dead at twenty-seven,
the age of man.
VIEW 15 of 15 COMMENTS
There is a stubble field on which a black rain falls.
There is a tree which, brown, stands lonely here.
There is a hissing wind which haunts deserted huts---
How sad this evening.
Past the village pond
The gentle orphan still gathers scanty ears of corn.
Golden and round her eyes are gazing in the dusk
And her lap awaits the heavenly bridegroom.
Returning home
Shepherds found the sweet body
Decayed in the bramble bush.
A shade I am remote from sombre hamlets.
The silence of God
I drank from the woodland well.
On my forehead cold metal forms.
Spiders look for my heart.
There is a light that fails in my mouth.
At night I found myself upon a heath,
Thick with garbage and the dust of stars.
In the hazel copse
Crystal angels have sounded once more.
That is brilliant, I am jealous. I might just hang up the notebook and weep.