MarcLord graciously shared one of his own poems with me. I hope other readers will appreciate it as much as I do.
'Stared, chuffed, hooted and chattered at
by Neanderthals and then Cameroons,
I fled into a temple and was affixed
for syncretic centuries at its summit.
I was an idol who entered a priest;
I was worshipped and then sacrificed.
I took on the bloodied skins of Brahma
and raged through the forests of Eurasia.
For my demise, Shiva waited patiently
while Vishnu hissed and hated me;
they maintained I had done some deed
the ibis and crocodile had trembled at.
So they sealed me in sarcophagi
and left me to the yawning years.
I know the innocently smirking Sphinx
is far, far older than we think.'
Marc referred to some musings by Coleridge in Thomas De Quincey's 'Confessions of an Opium Eater' as his source of inspiration. I would recommend this book as well as Cocteau's 'Opium' to any one interested in the links between 'lucid dreaming', the influences of drugs on creativity and the spiritual component in hallucinogenic experiences. There is a wonderful book about the Symbolist movement entitled 'Opium and the Romantic Imagination'. It is the illustrations that make the book worth having.
For those who are not interested in the musings of writers on the topic of drugs, De Quincey wrote a marvelous essay on 'The Fine Art of Murder'. I think his talent as a writer often is underestimated. He himself felt that opium had made him less prolific than he otherwise might have been. On the other hand, 'Confessions' alone was enough to secure him a place in literary history.