Poetry competition CLOSED 22nd July 2011 6:00pm
WINNER
Abracadabra
Abracadabra
RUNNER-UP:
trysca
Under The Influence
ive written some of my best stuff high
i grow my own weed on the farm i live on:)
anyway at my school theres a sculpture of hands claped together...
it was made by a boy from the school, it was his last work before he died painting with a gas mask on
i grow my own weed on the farm i live on:)
anyway at my school theres a sculpture of hands claped together...
it was made by a boy from the school, it was his last work before he died painting with a gas mask on
Here I go,
Drinking again,
Doing pills, sniffing white,
I can't change the lust for escape,
Like a bird in full flight,
Is my first shot of chung,
And I can't change the state I'm in,
It's all because I found it funny,
Laughed when it was less that sunny,
Shrugged when heat was not around,
Hypothemia's only for those who care,
But I don't care I'm only here,
Drinking again, doing pills and sniffing white.
Drinking again,
Doing pills, sniffing white,
I can't change the lust for escape,
Like a bird in full flight,
Is my first shot of chung,
And I can't change the state I'm in,
It's all because I found it funny,
Laughed when it was less that sunny,
Shrugged when heat was not around,
Hypothemia's only for those who care,
But I don't care I'm only here,
Drinking again, doing pills and sniffing white.
I wonder if there is any creative person that does not take stuffs, even if it is alcohol, at one point or the order. These days, I don't smoke or sniff stuffs no more because I am fully aware of the damages it can do to one's life(financially, legally and health-wise).
I get my highs from books, happenings and my wife and alcohol.
I get my highs from books, happenings and my wife and alcohol.
Anonymous
Bumping the thread - information in first post.
For Trotsky
(caught scribbling
with his pants down)
high on poetry again
damn those words
coursing through my veins
i need a toke
of inspiration
to remind me
in the distance
reality remains
to sieve the truth
from dreams profound
and lies profane
a pointing finger
with the balls
to complain
before the ice prick
shits the fan
(caught scribbling
with his pants down)
high on poetry again
damn those words
coursing through my veins
i need a toke
of inspiration
to remind me
in the distance
reality remains
to sieve the truth
from dreams profound
and lies profane
a pointing finger
with the balls
to complain
before the ice prick
shits the fan
I sat, with a cigarette
in between my fingers. Nothing
charging me but my pills
and the water I used to swallow
them. Staring out at
the crowd of four. Coming in
and out of focus, even
though my glasses were perfectly
clean. I wanted nothing
more than to sleep. To get away.
in between my fingers. Nothing
charging me but my pills
and the water I used to swallow
them. Staring out at
the crowd of four. Coming in
and out of focus, even
though my glasses were perfectly
clean. I wanted nothing
more than to sleep. To get away.
naijapoeteket said:I wonder if there is any creative person that does not take stuffs, even if it is alcohol, at one point or the order. These days, I don't smoke or sniff stuffs no more because I am fully aware of the damages it can do to one's life(financially, legally and health-wise).
I get my highs from books, happenings and my wife and alcohol.
Mine is Life and Love
I get my highs from books, happenings and my wife and alcohol.
Mine is Life and Love
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Ketamine lull/comedown... http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/87/
flick*
The lighter sparks a flame scorching the end of this blunt
Inhaling, pulling the Mary Jane into my lungs
My eyes scrunched together as take my hit
Releasing the blunt, blowing smoke from lungs
High.
Minutes have flown by and I feel the high
My eyes becoming blood shot, head thumping
All my muscles are relaxed as I sit here and think
The roads in my mind traffic jammed, head thumping
High.
The posters on my wall sparking various thoughts
Those thoughts opening up doors, my mind spewing open
That girl really was bitch today at work, and
The government was behind 9/11 now that I think about it, my mind spewing open
High.
As my body sits on this red vintage couch
And I reach to to smoke out the gas mask
It reminds me of war and its true purpose
Now it's my bong, time to smoke out of the gas mask
High.
Finishing my second blunt, my high at its maximum
My eyes become heavy, my head begins to hangs
Slowly drifting off into the world of sleep
My eyes shut and my head hangs
High.
The lighter sparks a flame scorching the end of this blunt
Inhaling, pulling the Mary Jane into my lungs
My eyes scrunched together as take my hit
Releasing the blunt, blowing smoke from lungs
High.
Minutes have flown by and I feel the high
My eyes becoming blood shot, head thumping
All my muscles are relaxed as I sit here and think
The roads in my mind traffic jammed, head thumping
High.
The posters on my wall sparking various thoughts
Those thoughts opening up doors, my mind spewing open
That girl really was bitch today at work, and
The government was behind 9/11 now that I think about it, my mind spewing open
High.
As my body sits on this red vintage couch
And I reach to to smoke out the gas mask
It reminds me of war and its true purpose
Now it's my bong, time to smoke out of the gas mask
High.
Finishing my second blunt, my high at its maximum
My eyes become heavy, my head begins to hangs
Slowly drifting off into the world of sleep
My eyes shut and my head hangs
High.
Anonymous
This competition is now CLOSED. I'll announce the winner at 1pm GMT.
Anonymous
The winner is Abra for his "Half a Shandy (at lunchtime)". Well done!
