Not the type to have ever taken recreational drugs, I’ve always been quite satisfied with what my imagination comes up with on it’s own. Here is one exception- After dental surgery (to have all four highly compacted wisdom teeth removed at once, eek!), I was on some heavy duty painkillers. As I drifted in and out of conciousness, this poem simply came to me. I felt for a moment how Colleridge must have felt some of the time.
I have no idea what the poem means, but I like the random surreality of it.
The nosepegs stood across the frozen sky,
By and by,
Dry from stolen fear.
A mist. The sound went round and round the inner spinning sphere.
Alas the bath stood mighty tall
And looked for all it’s worth like rain.
It held the foot like butter nooks
To dry the slowing drifts of pain.
And yet, and soft, and long, and light,
The needle longed it’s way to lie.
The Empath Chronicles will continue!
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Souvenirs volés - The Memory's Wake French (français) Translation
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