I thought it'd be cool to have a thread completely of stoned poetry.
Doesn't have to rhyme...
Doesn't have to be smart.
Just fun.
Heres one of mine:Twirling fire on nimble fingers, crisscrossing flicks of flame on a stage of knuckles...
Green smoke trailing in after the neon pussy sauntered...
Dragons are panting up my leg, fully submerged as a mirrorworlder.
Dreamscapes of green and fire, violet illusion and avid flashbacks,
Catalysts of Contentment, Peace, Unification, Idealism, and The Munchies.
Escaped snores breaking into open airspace, a blue Dreamer,
What has god a meaning for this? What way does he want us to travel?
Infiniti has no physical essence, no obtainable fuel, How are we to ponder the
Eternal if it has nothing as a face and everything as a story?
Filtered reality between dimensions of anxiety, hate, disturbing the prudism of souls abound. Blurred lines between shades of grey, attracting shifty dealers and pushers every day.
Inferius Reviewed by Inferius on . Stoned Poetry I thought it'd be cool to have a thread completely of stoned poetry. Doesn't have to rhyme... Doesn't have to be smart. Just fun. :D Heres one of mine:Twirling fire on nimble fingers, crisscrossing flicks of flame on a stage of knuckles... Green smoke trailing in Rating: 5