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Alchemisland

Neuralchemy, summoning lost worlds, astral womb knowledge

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  • EELS

    When the moon ignites the tides Who in vents from divers hides It’s a moray  Eel Divers hides at my cryptozoological  Tanning shop, unicorns that I shot Spun into jumpers, make you sharp Its priapic horn shipped to China It’s a moray  What happens to make these Odd creatures, these animate S’s In the wild…

    alchemisland

    17th May 2024
    Filí my pockets
    eel, eels, poem
  • Direct Hit 

    In the bunker radio feed news come through that we sunk her  My god, beers we drunk ‘em  Proud songs, we sung ‘em Flags we upslung them In the lab hungry state debunkers dissect American propaganda.

    alchemisland

    17th May 2024
    alchemisland of Ireland
    poem
  • Definitely Getting In

    We started early Gig’s in Marlay No sign of Jacob Names and numbers like a parley On paper in my parlour Scarlet to ring you so early How’s your mother? Grand sure, listen Have you got powder?  Ten minutes, sound brudder I’m in me kitchen, yeah Gonna be a growler alri’. Think I’m seeing the…

    alchemisland

    13th May 2024
    Filí my pockets
    alchemisland, alchemy, blog, bouncer, concert, creative writing, drinking, drugs, dublin, fiction, gig, imagination, ireland, irish, life, magic, marlay park, neuralchemy, poem, poet, poetry, the sesh, writing, youth
  • NewNightmare

    Kids having nightmares at governments admitting involvement in assassination Not in our good nation; not our mothers and fathers; not our beloved freemasons What if Freddy Kreuger FK was Fitzgerald Kennedy  Admit the assassination where there’s no peril for ‘em A sad tragedy on closer inspection reveals threads, threnodies of trinities Get you a bucket…

    alchemisland

    13th May 2024
    Filí my pockets
    alchemisland, conspiracies, conspiracy theory, freemasonry, james shelby downard, neuralchemy, occult, paranoia poetry, poem, poet, poetry
  • Pilgrims Walking – VI

    Tired from the road they sought our abode  We are utterly smote, one ventures, coughing at fire smoke He chokes down sour wine, hands it over his hand to mine I say this weather will not clear for some time, let us pass time Some light, even a mote, even remote, must show before you…

    alchemisland

    13th May 2024
    Filí my pockets
    alchemisland, imagination, neuralchemy, poem, poet, poetry
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