©Judson G. DeRouen Outlaw Poetry 2018. All rights Reserved
A TRIP TO THE GROCERY STORE
Walking To My Car: Feeling the outside eyes watching, I got into my car and drove off. With an inconspicuous glance, I noticed what I knew already. There was nobody sitting in a car watching. It was just a silhouette or a shadow. The Arrival: Jotting things down on my notepad, I worried about crap that might happen. Will there be a bad coincidence? ...a crazy synchronization? Avoid, let go, and be. Walking Towards The Store: I heard a horn behind me... Ideas of reference? Someone slammed their door... Thoughts of influence? Not good. I need that Jim Beam. Seeing a hippy in front of me, dreads and a low-rider bicycle, looking back at me, smiling. "I’ve seen him before, near The Cajun Dome."
Walking Through And Inside The Liquor Isle: clatter clatter... muffled voices. chatter chatter... I pick up a bottle of Jim Beam. Walking towards the cola, I saw a glorious individual picking up an item. ...long skirt. Flowered shirt. Pale Pentecostal skin. Beauty in a precious moment.
Paying For The Items: “do you want a bag?” what’s that? “do you want a BAG?” oh sure
Driving Back To My Apartment: Chewing 3mg. of Xanax, with warm cola. I felt it kick in quick. High and driving with patience and serenity. ...patience that I rarely had before... While driving, I felt mellow and euphoric. No pigs around, No paranoia. Consumption And Indulgence: First I took a few shots of Jim Beam. eeeeeeyaaaa.... good shit on a cold dead day.
...shit I misplaced my bottle of Xanax. kitchen... bathroom... living room... bedroom... YES. I found it. I take 1mg of Xanax. Both Jim and Xanax kicks in. A gigantic wave comes washing away my scattered thoughts, racing thoughts, Anti-anxietized man I am. Finally I am sitting like Buddha on my green crushed velvet couch, drinking my Jim Beam in a shot glass. touching Nirvana.
Louisiana Fog
The Moisture is thick in this shit hole town i can vaguely see the neighbor's porch
waiting for the sun to climb the pines and burn all this horrible Louisiana moisture away a pink glow is above the swamp and pines Moisture i inhale my cigarette smoke then exhale Moisture and smoke waiting
slowly a pinkish orange gets brighter and brighter the sun is rising up the trees near the top of ‘em the birds are chirping a song of freedom and I sit comfortably numb in this shitty fog inhaling smoke and Moisture
Seagulls are flying above i listen
finally the sun peaked above the pines and shines beautifully amazing and wonderful through the Moisture
the warmth touches me with love and peaceful serenity
and the Louisiana fog is too thick to burn up now.
- Judson G. DeRouen
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Near The Swamp
the cheerful old SUN declines creating nostalgic shadows that bleed towards the dead swamp awaking the night
Silence fills my hungry ears
Then the haunting sounds of the swamp Develop
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Cold Winter Night
no stars and it’s a cold winter night absence of sunshine black midnight
silence except for the clock ticking and tocking the birth of seconds
i’m staying up tonight to indulge in a bit of pain meds and clove cigarettes
waiting for the man
Dr. Robert arrives and delivers he gets high on his own supply snorts a xanbar then leaves
finally alone with my Lortabs
i take four
then wait for that good ole feeling
after they kick in gentle showers of warmth kiss and hug me
like being safe and sound in your mother’s womb like cuddling with your lover in a warm bed like that first time inside a girl
i love cold winter nights like this
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Bad Synchronicity
everything went well except for a simple glitch In the Temple
one night in these apartments called Maison D’Esprit
i was out of my Klonopine and all hell broke loose:
i woke up with the loud sound of the damn siren mixed with the roaring wind rushing through the trees getting louder
then quieting down down down
into the boisterous knocks at my door
“don’t answer it” “they will go away”
muffled voices exchanging insanity One voice loudly speaks twice “i don’t want to live anymore”
i then turn the TV on a face with silver hair says “why does kamikazes wear helmets?” “why do they sterilize a needle to give a lethal injection?”
he goes on and on i then turn off the television strange vibes kiss me wickedly
the muffled voices turned into screams thereafter quiet laughter
at that same time lightening FLASHES
Thunder Crashes rolls avalanched growls of chaos‌
then my lights go out.
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Old Honky Tonk Bar
In The Middle of Nowhere absence of moonlight midnight shining like new charcoal driving around on narrow highways fucked-up roads with pot holes humidity’s hot breeze smothers the soul At a Coon-Ass Bar in Vermilion Parish nerve endings were reaching out to people with a mixture of beer and Jim Beam feeling seeing watching PTSD hiding behind a drunken vibe Sitting on the Bar Stool sitting down drunk off my ass i remember where I was for a second I didn’t fit in with the crowd
i had long hair black clothes black shorts black combat boots Just wanted some liquor Jukebox Time quarters in my pocket i staggered to the jukebox and looked at the selection Damn it!!! new and old country music with just a few old rock tunes so, I totter back to the bar stool Sitting on the bar stool i felt the eyes of everybody watching me noise music country fried women women without wedding rings but as soon as you approach them they put it on i finally put my head down on the wooden brown bar breath smelling of whiskey Black Out nothingness
i awoke with the feeling of some chick putting her wet finger in my ear when i got up she left a dude was dancing to some 1980’s rock all by himself with a cocaine nose job wearing 80’s clothes with a cheesy vest and all not knocking the guy just seemed surreal the whole experience seemed so surreal Daylight no one around except for that 1980’s dude he asked me if I wanted some weed or any kind of drugs i said no then I thought about it then I asked him “do you have three Lortabs?” “Yes I sure do” he said “Thanks bro” then I drove off into the rising sun without pain shining like a new diamond. *
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An Evening In Winter The sun is sinking slowly behind the westward obstruction of buildings and naked trees of winter the reddish-yellow glow shines faintly through my window. even though I haven’t slept in three days: I take a quarter of a Methadone And drink one 24oz. beer a subtle shade of warmth creeps over me and fills me up with it’s love and hunger that ole Methadone tunnel vision’s on staring at the ceiling
shadows creating images of animals and geometric shapes i start to pet my cat, Krishna purrs of relaxation fills her soul as if my drugs went into her i love this kind of silence in this dim illuminated room outside my murky window i see hues of deep orange and red i’m high as fuck right now the light is getting darker. into the grey. finally the sun is setting down into hell
the sun has disappeared fading away into an evening in Winter.
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Untitled Haiku (1998) I'm wearing socks that have a bit of puke at the heel it's from last night beer vodka and blackjack.
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Healing Spells & Curses (2018)
Fuck those animals out there in the wilderness They have fucked me over so many goddamn times in the Temple That now I’m numb and full of guilt and full of depression For life I think that I have a damn good reason to use spells and curses for any mother fucker that does me wrong once again or for that matter for the first time.
Just drinking beer right now and I thought I had to ramble away about that A friend who was my only friend here in Lake Hell Arthur Decided to fuck me over with words Did I put a spell on her Like she claimed I did? Fuck no!!!! I just been through hell in my life and never came back with strength The only strength I have is my powers with the use of healing spells and curses Shit man I use The Universal Consciousness in order to do the damn healing spell Which is God And me, my-self, and I for the curses. I rarely do curses only on people that have fucked me over to many goddamn times.
Spiderweb Somewhere in Lafayette, La.
In the back of a dive bar Metropolis Laying in a rusted out ancient shopping cart around the entities I was gazing up into the safety nets of darkness Trees obscuring the stars. Lights obscuring the night. The branches lights voices laughter the smell and the single star in the darkened sky
All forming a spider web of paranoia catching my attention I was aware of every little thing That was going on
No shooting stars in the back of this dimension
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I Wear Thorns
Walking on that tight rope I tried to balance myself with pharmaceutical corporate chemicals well I fell deep down in the well I descended into Hell Lobotomized resurrections touched my brain circuitry Walking around numb becoming apathetic and dumb
Pharmaceutical corporate chemicals got me down
black and blue whipped and bruised leaves a scar I wear a crown of thorns
From my brain is where I bleed
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Insomnia
fractured images untold stories missing pieces to the puzzle of reasoning irrational thoughts contemplating obsessions walking that tight rope and sometimes falling
"don't dwell deep in the well." "stop messing around in the devil's playground."
Light another cigarette... and wait till sunlight again.
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Pain In My Back I slowly woke up to the sound of silence. Heart beating normal "check" no sounds coming from outside. the calm before the storm. Then‌ the Pain struck me like a freight train in a gory accident. all broken and beaten were my bones this unknown pain constricted my arm felt like I was torn at the shoulder blade what am I going through maybe a stigmata for a schizophrenic god savior master alien I AM that I AM. cold chills touched my painful body
chitter chattering teeth and voice spoke in tongues yelling out words of disdain within my agonizing torment. Taking a Lortab 10 for pain, I anxiously waited for relief. waiting in extreme pain for 45 minutes. still shivering chitter chatter teeth and voice speaking in tongue tied shocked language. finally the calm after the storm. clouds, smooth sailing. and relaxin' with Robaxen. _________________________________________________
i made up a word "chitter"
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Within This Winter Dawn
curiously looking outside my murky window ...smoking a cigarette. I can see the sky of bluish-grey. bare branches from the naked trees stand still in the cold dry air.
a couple in love walk out from this apartment building called Maison De' Sprit i can see them breathing out frost. holding hands towards their old car they kiss
Magically looking at their affection and the coldness of winter reminds me of living alone on this dead-end street.
with two days of no sleep, I ate Lortabs and drank Southern Comfort. ...good ole girlfriends of mine. They don’t give me no lip they give me love and warmth now the bluish-grey sky is getting cloudy.... finally, a hint of the chaotic Sun shines through and I'm high, with my ole girlfriends Lortabs and Southern Comfort they are my love and my warmth Within this winter dawn *
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In The Red
deep in the red he lies in the casket death position in the hotel bed wishing he could fall asleep forever and never wake up
a beautiful woman arrives
talk mask task
time for a cig
and a wine cask hand me that flask talk
that walk “i will remember you forever” “whatever”
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She Cried silent was the night we had just finished a 5th of cheap vodka lack of communication except for a drunken vibe within us and methadone tongues twisting
feeling depressed and inebriated she cried on my lap
my eyes started to rain for her melancholy i had a strong empathy and sympathy for her pain
anguish drugs addiction depression oppression suppression crap lies mask
i then had a black-out
when i woke i was in her bed
with my clothes on shoes on
she was undressed nude uncovered still asleep with a mask on.
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In The Red II porn on the TV screen messed up sheets on the Bed they kiss before the light turns Red something she will realize using pain he will compromise
out comes the whip nervousness shines out from their faces like questioning strange looking cocaine on a mirror Whip it good go forward move ahead
strike 1: the whip touches him like a kiss from a cotton mouth snake strike 2: the release strike 3: your out with pleasure
Their trust does not rust
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