The words

Erowid used to be this vault of intangible mystery

I don’t know how many reports I read
before I took things into my own hands

I was young, yeah
just 14

I was old—

Huichol kids were no strangers
to the small buttons in the sand

the babes of the Shipibo
drinking little cups of aya
before they were born—
breastfed and initiated—

old still—
compared to the coming of age
of the Bwiti—

I didn’t know what I was but

falsely prohibited—

I knew I had to know

Sitting in Tony’s dumpy backyard
on a busted ass couch
his loose mohawk a veil of fat

You have to keep the lighter on it
You have to hold it in for a long time
Hit it again
It’s not working, this shit is fucking bunk

We had no idea what we were in for
and I was the only one that did it right
I took these huge lungfulls
out of one of those old green acrylic bongs
until I thought I could see music notes
where their voices were
and everything went bright sky blue
I was floating
in front of a burning fireball star
we were the only things
in existence

there were two long black lines
thinning into a point on the horizon
of the blinding surface of the sun
connecting whatever I was
to whatever it was—
I could see white things
up and down it
like a highway

they were symbols,
no—they were


22 thoughts on “The words

      1. pseudonymous Post author

        I don’t know why I never followed her blog until recently, she posted some of my pomes a while back, but seeing the german artist you reposted, the gaping abyss headed guy with the books is something thats happened to me in a mirror before…was so cool to see that in artform like that…naturally I did what I shoulda done a long durn time ago and followed….since then I have not been disappointed, like with yer blog too, ya’ll have good taste, last two pomes I give credit to arising from our chatter actually, now I sit like a fisherman not wondering . .

      2. danielpaulmarshall

        When i started blogging it was as much to find good stuff as it was to post. I didn’t want to do the follow & be followed routine, i wanted people to either, talk with, or show me something incredible. Tulika has fine taste. Check out her post on Hildegarde Handsaeme. Stunning stuff.

      3. pseudonymous Post author

        I loved the shaded eye one!!! It was so dreamy

        And just for the record, I think it adds to the story if anyones interested—I have been on a ‘document my past trip’ ever since a near death experience in 2015. Hard to explain, but one of the after effects of that has been my reflection on past events in as much of a concrete and cohesive manner as I possibly can…(we all know how ambiguous that is) I like balancing it with being in the moment too. There were gaps where I didn’t write sometimes for years.

        I noticed that about your blog… you have some seriously great critics on your crew. I don’t know the first thing about blogging honestly I just know that I do it. I have theories…

      4. danielpaulmarshall

        i am almost happy you had a near death experience if it has urged you to write such incredible works as i have had the pleasure of reading. (i hope you catch my drift & i don’t just sound like a dick here.)
        i have got some great critics, its really what i always wanted since i decided some 10 years ago that i want to be a poet’s poet— a milieu of people who really read my stuff rather than a great many who passively read it. that is why i only follow on comment on blogs i really like, so that i can build strong relationships & have the right people reading my work. i want to be read, but i don’t want to beg for readers, i think that is silly— if you right anything of value, it should attract on the merits of its content, not on how kind or attentive the writer is (they should be) but they shouldn’t be harvesting, quality should win over quantity.

      5. pseudonymous Post author

        Yeah it’s funny how it works. I’m happy I was not crushed by a falling 18 wheeler off an overpass I was directly underneath when it happened and narrowly escaped with a broken windshield and concrete through some part of the truck…it sounded like a giant boulder exploding…things haven’t been the same since though (I’ve said that once or twice…).

        I think the word should is like where you SQLinject scripts of chaos magick. I feel you though… good blogs are hard to find, the lesson here is to seek harder

      6. pseudonymous Post author

        I am like this in other aspects of my life but with writing it’s like I’m just still going through the motions knowing it could be taken to the next level like how you submit to journals there’s just the divide between getting there…largely because I read none of them. I recognize that I should. That’s as far as I’ve gotten with that. My manuscript is cringe city. If my life wasn’t so physically or mentally exhausting I would love to sit down and focus on all this sometime. But I know as good as anyone that day could never come, so, old patterns, new rhythms…

        someone offered to be my mentor once but they were senile. I keep a notebook with lists in it that I work on daily. I have made one for ‘research lit mags’

        as for bloggers…that is another one of those great mysteries of the internet…but my cadence tends to fade as the night swallows me whole, so

  1. zongrik

    i like this part best:

    Huichol kids were no strangers
    to the small buttons in the sand

    the babes of the Shipibo
    drinking little cups of aya
    before they were born—
    breastfed and initiated—

    1. pseudonymous Post author

      Thanks, I’ve always found a lot or value in looking at how other cultures work (esp in regards to ethnobotany, my niche) without hijacking them essentially but there is much to learn from the differences. Especially with how skewed the lines between food and medicine have become in so many ways here. I like how authentic and Californian your portraits are.

    1. pseudonymous Post author

      Happy to hear that, this is a fond memory of mine, one that I will never try to repeat again! I thank Salvia but the most I’ll ever try to do is grow it for fun…


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