The tabernanthe

Sometimes you can
  see that
big wave
bumping up
  in the distance
coming for you

It’s up to you
  how you want
to catch it—If
you have the courage
  to catch it
at all

How could I say no then—
  I hardly walked
six months
before those capsules
  of root bark
were placed into my hands

How could I care
  that those with weak hearts
had already crossed over
at the dosage
  I was to eat—

You go in knowing this
  and within an hour
  the old you is gone
forever

Flooded out

That bitter metallic
  purging—the gravity—
motion sickness spinning
into the spiral
of everything that’s
  ever happened
on this planet

The sheer vividness
  of the visions / You
could hone in on
anything here specifically
like there was an
  earthbound threshold
applied to it’s living database—

It was realer than real

There were the
  Bwiti’s masks
up close
in my face—
the detail
woven into the dyed red
white fibers
  of the hemp
and the wood—

Smearing like oil
  flashing a deep blue
  ripple from every
moveless movement—

The wounded
  soldiers fighting
in the sandbox
unable to see
the way out—the endless
  wars by proxy
internalized—

The unpeeling
  of my own
everything—the darkest
  sense of peaceful
contempt—

It was as if harmalas
  were only half the story
like there was a point
where they break down 
and this is the only
ethnobotanical
that establishes itself
  on the scaffolding of
where they leave off

Fully submerged like
  you’re underwater / in
a liquid dream
electric—lightning
bolts strike
the water of your
dancing eyes
an almost religious bliss
  one could never imagine
possible without

All the things you’ve done /
  should have done /
should do

Mbira
  of the spirit—how melodic
we can be

The glass pipe packed
  with dense purple flowers—
a traditional synergy
in modern times—
it would last all night
  one grapey / woody
relaxation at a time

But flicking the lighter
was like breaking a prism

I remember laying
  in front of the fan
motionless
dissociated
feeling no pain
and flying
  all around the room
of everywhere and nowhere

It breaks down
  into psychoactive
pieces
the metabolite circulates
  for up to three months
the first time

You see it’s tracers
  flash when the sun rises
  the sun sets—reminding you
of how you got here

You feel it coaxing you
  to be the person
  you should be
and are now

And I never once
did look back

Except in awe
  at the power
of saying yes
  and no
at the same time


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24 thoughts on “The tabernanthe

      1. The Gift (JJ Page)

        I think I’ve got a pretty good idea what some of the themes in this relate to not undescribable well not to me I noticed themes in some of your other posts as well great refreshing reading to me

      2. pseudonymous Post author

        Like puzzle pieces—that even in their anomalystic sporadicity outline what must be the Bigger Picture. The trick lies wherein how many one has found—and how skilled you are at being that which is in-between. Thank you.

    1. pseudonymous Post author

      Thanks for your comment—I found this one challenging because I knew I needed to write a poem about it—but how to contain something that happened over days and days and even months into a poem? I remember not sleeping the first night. Not walking much for days still heavily dissociated. Not driving for over a week. It was when I began to walk into town with the noribogaine metabolite still flowing thru me about a week later that I realized my nerve damage / neuropathies symptoms had subsided enough to give me a clean slate and allow me to put it in my past. Something I never could have imagined before that night, those few months. USA and France are the only two countries that ban it last I checked. They have strong pharmaceutical ties. Go figure.

      Reply
      1. Suzanne

        I’m a newcomer to your blog. I’m not sure what noribogaine metabolite is. From your poem I thought you were talking about an experience induced by one of those shamanic psychotropics that are used in Sth America – sorry I forget the names. I took magic mushrooms a lot back when I was young and related your poem from the perspective. There was so much of your experience that also resonates with the spiritual awakening I have been experiencing in recent years. Your thoughts on feeling world history within your own being is one aspect that I can relate to from my current experiences. It’s so hard to describe this stuff. I think you have a point when you say it leads to poetry. You’ve given me an idea here that might take quite some time to find expression on my blog. I have followed your blog and will read your future posts with great interest. Whatever the substance you write of is I would say it would be banned in Australia (where I live) but maybe the authorities aren’t aware of it yet. They ban any substance here that might remotely expand consciousness and assist people in seeing through the control mechanisms of patriarchy and capitalism.

      2. pseudonymous Post author

        Iboga grows in west Africa and when ingested by a mammal the nervous system breaks the active ingredient ibogaine down into pieces—some of these pieces are psychoactive and last longer than any other known entheogen. The Bwiti in Gabon use it for ritual initiations and medicine among other things. Some eat it every single day of their lives…

        Thanks again, always happy to inspire, I felt inspired to do the last few myself.

      3. Suzanne

        Ah – so I wasn’t so far off then. I can’t imagine eating such stuff every day but it would certainly shift your consciousness rapidly. It would be hard to do that in contemporary society – as you indicated in your last comment. You have really got me thinking about the idea of writing poetry to express some of the experiences I’ve had recently. Thanks for the inspiration.

  1. tmezpoetry

    This poem is its own continent ๐Ÿ™‚ I can subjectively travel through it on varying levels. Loved the beginning, the impending wave reference… a great entrance to the poem as it pulled me into an emotional frame.

    Reply

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