The Bong of Contention

The bong of contention

speaks to me

in smoke, inhaled

deep inside

swirling in sunlight

enveloping my mind,

the music sings sweeter,

                          louder,

colours expand,

and the bass

beneath my fingers

dances out a 

different tune from

yesterday,

an intuitive blues,

muscles remember

what fingers forgot,

things tickle and tease

just out of sight,

senses sense things,

feelings vibrate,

the thinking thought

evaporates,

             just is

stoned immaculate

is your mojo risin?

                               Mr M.

Reviews

[Eilis]

An evocative, peaceful moment captured here. Communing with the self. Letting time be automatic and allowing the self to be guided by understanding. I loved the part about muscle memory and music. I dabble with the violin (not very well, it’s hard to teach yourself) and know that if I think about what I’m doing I can’t do an effing thing. I mean, once I’ve learned it.

Kind of like poetry. I can’t think too much about it or it becomes something other. I have to let it fall as it will and see if I can make something of it. It’s weird the way creativity is like that.

When I read this the first time it reminded me of when my daughter was an infant. She cried for the first five months of her life. And neither of us slept more that two hours at a time. No joke. I went a little crazy then.

My husband slept regularly and so was a bit more clearheaded. He tried a lot of different things to get her to stop crying. At one point, he discovered that My Wild Love was her song. Ha. She loved Jim. What can I say. As soon as the song came on she would stop crying. Didn’t last forever, but while it worked, it was sweet.

Like music and communing with one’s own thoughts and feeling just fine in the moment. Or moving in some new direction. Wherever it ends up. Creativity is such a mysterious process.

This is a relaxing poem to read. Still thinking about the title though. I mean, I get the bong part. It’s the contention. I feel like there’s something more to be understood.

[gram linski]

Hey Eilis, got to love those young minds, as for creativity, sometimes it feels like I am just the holder of a pen while someone else writes things down, don'y get to hung up on the title it was playful word abuse of the phrase " bone of contention", although a few of my exes might disagree, lol

[Ted Kniffen]

All right, suddenly I have been stricken with a case of the munchies ... got any Doritos?
As you may know, Canada legalized Cannabis and taken all the illicit fun out of it. Thinking about opening a hot dog stand next to one of the legal shops, if one ever opens in my area.
Don't worry, with the Government in control what could go wron.................................

Groovy man, love the vibes.

[gram linski]

haha, glad your munchie is rising, Mr T.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Indeed. To imbibe the heady fumes of a free thought and pin it, restrain it, hold it down, against its will, and smear it on the page is a defiling of virgin 'parchment' but who the f**k cares where an orgasm is concerned, only the poet! You let contention and the beat take you but my advice, drink more!

[gram linski]

If I drank more I would be dead fool, as for defiling virgin parchment, I think that is your area of expertise,

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Aye a dead fool is marginally more attractive than a live one I am told by my voices!

[gram linski]

them voices be true, a dead fool makes for more soup than a live one, all that splashing/thrashing about...

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Oh s**t I just made a big pan of vegetable and tomato this morning!

[gram linski]

and how much did you lose ?

[John Alexander McFadyen]

A load a crap!