Starve For The Night Poem by Ray Quesada

Smoking marijuana on a kind,
January, Arizona night
Our immature, clever hearts
Both evil and harmless, are cleansed
and purified; amplified;
Like the sun through a magnifying lens
as we shatter ancient, sacred emeralds
in our bongs.

Tubular human art -
Inside, the smoke rises like Time,
Like Doom, in a silent, quantum mystery.

Smoke permeates our brains,
our bodies, and is stirred in
with our silly Buddha souls-

Weep; Shatter all; Kiss the starving
wet lips of your lovers - the wind
is carving through the black, sparkling
streets of the (Jim Morrison howling*)
'City at night...(!) '
So, let your miraculous rubber heart
starve for the night (as it starves for you)
-let it starve for bittersweet laughter;
For Hope Day (a.k.a. Tomorrow*) - -

-starve for car rides, as you brood
and try to grasp your life,
and the lives of all beings -
That's the thing to do during
lazy, nighttime car rides;
Just try to grasp your life
while watching telephone polls
whiz past your reflection in the window
-You should, (and maybe already do) wonder,
'what is a thought? '...

I was thinking and dreaming to myself
in the pink shadows and thunders
of the early evening, above me in infinite
sky, I was thinking, 'Nietzsche recommended
we all be dancers, and that we all take
long, solitary walks...'

I was thinking, 'Our Illusion, it is Solid
and Real - But, when you see it's Realness,
it shatters, and when you look at it
in broken pieces, they suddenly and magically
come back together...'

There, in the warm, bloody, Arizona horizon
The purple sun's gone down now...
It's getting cold...

Let today's meditations
and conclusions be redeeming -
not to others-
but only to yourself,
and perhaps
to your lover,
and maybe your best friend,
and to your mother
(If she is a good mother*)
-Only those 3 opinions really matter.

-September,2013-