Poems on the topic: amsterdam

Poems on the topic “amsterdam” on PoemShip.

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J. Martin Strangeweather

The Bushdoctor, Amsterdam

This coffeeshop has surprisingly good coffee, not that anyone ever comes here for it. I’m stoned. Feeling comfortably dense, heavy, gelatinous. My mind, however, is soaring, tallying wrongs committed against me, flipping through the rolodex of life’s disappointments, beating myself up trying to work out issues that I gave up on years ago. Attempting to solve myself. Cannabis does that to me sometimes, especially the sativas. It’s past midnight, and the Russian kid working the smoke bar told me the place closes in ten minutes. I take one last puff. Some guy with bushy hair and a scuzzy beard is staring at me as I’m writing in my journal. He probably thinks I’m writing about him,
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ContemplativeJ. Martin Strangeweather

The Dampkring, Amsterdam

Mouths filled with slogans, heads full of commercials, hearts overflowing with Hollywood—the American tourists are out on the prowl in the Red Light, including me, but I’m looking for something else. The truest answer transcends our ability to formulate its question. Everything’s an illusion except for the way illusions work. I used to think the answer would come from within. But now it seems that within is formed entirely from without. From things outside of myself, if such a boundary even exists. My bucket of a self, a bucket of near-infinite volume, able to hold the sun, the moon, the stars, whatever I fill it with. All my experiences. All my guts. All my bullshit. All my

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