The Psychadelic Substance
John Elwyn Kimber
Originally Published in Empirical magazine in May 2012
New as the aboriginal dawn of consciousness: -
Forced open wide, the childlike eyes are drawing down
An unknown planet’s visionscape of paradise
On blind facades, the meanest ways of everytown.
Till blocked, by childish terrors in the haunts of love -
That playground of your infant hopes and cosmic fears.
The primal vision of the final eden,
Free of all interference from your priests or peers.
So here is here and there is there, though one-the-same
Beneath interminable mires of loss-in-time,
Mysterious as the karmic knot you must unbind,
Ancestral as unconscionable crime,
And how they shall be one-the-same, though one-the-same
Beneath-beyond all shatterings of toxic shock,
Our toxic medicines cannot inform -
A sphinx of a joke, blind as a keyless lock.
Back, then, to the yet-unrealized human being -
Abysmal dungeons of the self ’s ancestral hall;
Your deepening soul high-diving for each cause and cure,
A work of centuries, awaiting each and all; -
And how we might be one-the-same, though one-the same
As humans-in-being, our final selves at ease,
The tribal gods in primal vision ask of us
As yet without release, O child of locks and keys.
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