Poetry competition CLOSED 15th December 2012 3:02pm
WINNER
FacePaint (Steven D)
View Profile Poems by FacePaint
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RUNNER-UP: waynehowell

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Drug Addiction

kriticool
Fire of Insight
32awards
Joined 1st Nov 2011
Forum Posts: 596



RubbaTina




RubbaTina she logged alotta time on that bench
that wench...used to be Queen Serene
now she’s a not too notable dope fiend
where in between another lifetime and now
she got caught on that track
chasing smack
head bopping up & down or placed on her back
asking each trick do he like it like that?

RubbaTina used to be keener
used to be one who was a tad bit meaner
used to be one who was fine as hell
her hair with that gel; we wondering what failed
now on that bench crying
each passerby wonders what's with that smell
smells like dying

RubbaTina before doin them bids
Long Island Manor; had her two nice kids
a man who cared; family who shared
No pimps, church ladies with contemptuous stares
no talking to lost beauty no longer found there
living a life where she actually cared

RubbaTina stuck shit in her arm
wouldn't except help; doin her self selfish harm
right there on that bench; decision to self lynch
from dream to a nightmare
that damsel done stressed


http://8020.photos.jpgmag.com/1287164_146680_f90c63f74b_l.jpg


photo: McKay Jaffe

poet Anonymous

<< post removed >>
Gemini
Geminitalian
Fire of Insight
United States 9awards
Joined 28th Oct 2012
Forum Posts: 1378

It's fine stillborn. No rules in this comp.

Thamk you everyone for your entries so far. There are some stellar poems here so far.

poet Anonymous

"My Tar Baby Friend"
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/72040.jpg
All of my friends
have left me alone,
the close ones, too,
Only one stayed, by my choice.
He turned out to be
more loyal than Bud,
who actually burned me,
he was such a dud, anyway,
glad he’s gone with the others.
Good riddance, they smothered my dreams.
I get so excited when I fill up Baby’s tube,
a beautiful glass syringe that twinkles,
makes me cringe sometimes, I love it.
I burn the spoon slowly, watch the lucky tar ball
melt into a bubbly dark bitter fluid, such wonderful fragrance,
fills the stale air with sweet sickly twisty smoke,
coils all around me like a poisonous snake,
invigorates me, so cosmic.
Elastic wraps my skinny little arm,
maybe a bony leg, it doesn’t matter which,
there are plenty of spots to choose from, just have to pick
a purple scabbed dot, there’s dozens.  
I make my selection quickly, pin prick,
push him smoothly into my hungry vein,
we’re that close, it’s intimate.
Oh, how I crave our connection,
find myself slipping into a hazy coma state,
lying comfortably on big Persian geometric pillows,
thinking about  nothing but nirvana here,
a high-flying special place,
I kiss the sun’s face there,
even my hair feels good.
We have an understanding,
we’re partners for life,
there’s never an argument between us,
it’s a glorious affair.
My gosh, I feel soooo euphoric, on top of the world!
My fingers stained brown, face looks a bit sunken,
dark rings under my eyes to match my digits.
I wear a frown when I’m down not up,
lost a tooth, maybe two, swallowed one once,
tracks run all over me,  on both arms and legs,
telling my hardcore tragic story.
None of that physical stuff really matters to me,
I feel so blasted good on the inside, especially
after a delicious black liquid injection.
Well, fuck the rejection and Bud!
Tar is my baby now,
I want him all the time,
he’s genuine.
Christ, who needs more friends, when
none of them ever made me
feel this damned special.

zenithquasar77
Marcus cooke
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom 10awards
Joined 6th Sep 2012
Forum Posts: 88

"My Foolish Friend, For When You Come Out Of The Rain"

Always
the loner
the laid back stoner
smoking his way  
through backie
and  half empty
printer toner.

The Marlborough messiah
with his pants on fire
the truthful liar
perched on his sofa
to some his life  
has been wasted
pasted on a canvass
of infinite complexities.

Always
the wise monkey
perched on his sofa
a spiff in one hand
in the other a ice cold soda.
I guess you were chasing fire
my foolish friend
i will write the following  
upon your headstone
it will read..

"All that you were
be as it may
all that you are
grow wings  
and fly away
your coming  
back one day
your coming out of the rain.
all that you are
be as it may
all that you were
grow legs
and run away
you're coming back one day"

Qball910
Strange Creature
Joined 12th Dec 2012
Forum Posts: 1

In crystal caverns ive become entrapped
seething with despair
stuck in this foreign place with not even a map
this must be lucifers lair
a weary traveler yearning for rest
but stress is all i find
living this life as a humbled guest
but slwoly becoming blind
so familiar with such abominable deeds
rejecting all signs of affection
regretting every second while i quench these needs
needing sense of direction
demons and shadows replace family and sunlight
swift and sudden do they arrive
in disgust at the experience of this evils might
makes me question if im really alive
peering from the depths a frown is what remains
with nothing to replace it
trying to decifer the suffering and the pains
the only option is to face it

tarishaenglish
Lost Thinker
United States
Joined 12th Dec 2012
Forum Posts: 4

She thought she was dead

alone, as she bled

the razor still in hand

what seemed a good plan.

Waking in a room

it must've been cleaned soon

the smell of bleach burns her eyes

atleast thats her excuse for why she cries.

They say she needs sedation

but she was trying to escape the medication

another dose it seems

its like she's living the same dream.

It's like they'll never understand

even with the razor still in hand

she would rather lay down and die

than to entertain getting high.

So she rips out the stitches

leaves a note with a laugh: "this will teach you bitches"

she runs to lock the door

as blood begins flowing to the floor.

Abreast with her disease

seems death the only way to stay clean.

Blake25
Thought Provoker
United States 3awards
Joined 30th Nov 2012
Forum Posts: 18

Roll it, light it, inhale deeply, and  
don't let any smoke out. Feel  
your throat burn and watch  
the tears escape from your  
bleeding eyes.  

Within minutes, you feel a bit nauseous, and  
the walls that surround you start breathing to  
the sound of your increasing heartbeat.  
Fluttering profusely, you can hear it beat, as  
the dull colors  become  
more vivid, and your own  
reflection starts to become  
your own worse enemy.  

The distorted face you see before you  
starts to worry you, for  
you think it's a mere reality,  
and the people you surround yourself with  
start to act a little peculiar and suspicious,  
almost as if they're not who they say they are.  

Panic subsides as you close  
your eyes and take in  
the beauty that you have created.  
It's intricate shapes and flawless  
colors leave you starstruck and in  
disbelief. It never dies nor  
diminishes, it just continues  
to build and change within the  
space continuum, like a rare painting,  
always manifesting new meanings and ideas.  
This is what you wanted, right?  
A hit and a trip to pleasure island?  

This colored smoke makes you feel euphoric,  
and all your pain goes away, as if it never  
really existed. You become all knowing and  
see through the people that sit before you.  
You are limitless. Nobody can touch you.  
   
But as your final hour commences, you  
take a turn for the worse.  
Sweat drips down your  
face, and that little shake on the  
lower part of your arm won't go away.  

Rage and hunger start to  
rain down on you,  
like a ton of bricks. What a  
strange sensation this is?  
You're not who you were an  
hour ago--you're possessed.  
Everything you've been  
taught as a child  
fails you at this  
very moment in time.  

Your friend looks rather  
tasty, and with a loud snap,  
the blood from  
his neck is  
in the palm of your hands.    
Loud screams and cry's  
become nonexistent,  
for you are just a  
drone, trying to feed  
his unsatisfiable hunger.  

Sirens draw near,
but what can they do?
The look on your victims  
face has already turned black and blue.

Whitewand6
Dangerous Mind
India 16awards
Joined 1st Nov 2011
Forum Posts: 2251

            vaudeville

the clock shows ten to two and it seems awhile
i am the gasper noe vision tonight the night hawk
taking in everything in my 360 vantage point that
keeps on evolving in a blur at the speed of change
i swoop and dive and somersault and barely evade
crashing into the concrete sans my safety net

keep floating high above the highrise apartments with
their all white elevators interiors exteriors housing the
killers sharks lunatics whores with their prisons and
dungeons and aquariums and med cabinets with
their bottles of thorazine xanax irish whiskey and
burgundy wine bought from duty free stores

penetrate their weatherproof walls of sunset yellow
with fake renoirs and souzas commissioned locally
levitate above their custom made peacock blue
silk bedspread stained soiled with stale suffering
fragments of broken abused faith warped shreds
of stolen innocence stoic stench of long lost lives
hit me and i gatecrash falling on the linoleum
pale phantoms of elapsed love stare with
their marble eyes sewn with care congealed
by time oozing fresh truth  

the shiny tap offers its condolences every few minutes
to the dead home and its limp listless inmates dying of
basal metabolism embolism whatnot

i seep in thru the granite squeeze thru the plaster of paris
and the brass and the pashmina and the expensive wood
thru empty bodies and troubled minds and developing fetuses
bruised canals stagnant air and late night television with
fellinisque wet dreams fresh popcorn shared nightmares

blast thru the flint glass window and hurtle above everything
the manicured garden the azure pool the uniformed guard seated
reach the high i always seek always sought

it thrills me to see the city a living dying alien organism
an abomination with a million parts alive wriggling choking
airless gross beautiful in their collective existence
livid alive in their cancerous decadence

drained drowsy the city sleeps sending out new batches
of data and dead to all parts buying and selling dreams
smuggling the contradictions and the chaos in small
stiff packages

undiminished adulterated it moans in all its might
life thrives in strife demons doves dwellers dust
settle in as i die a bit every time upon entering
my own diseased flesh still with foreboding
cold gray and distant my body resembles
a remote mining town sans any allure
the pyridoxine bottle lies next to me
and somehow i can't seem to reach



tarishaenglish
Lost Thinker
United States
Joined 12th Dec 2012
Forum Posts: 4

Addicts Riddle





I sit here staring at you

as if i know you best.

Taunting you with misconceptions

that never let you rest.

I am your constant companion

an invasion of your privacy.

I disgust your better judgement

and still you sell yourself to me.

You rationalize and bargain with me

while you forget to feel.

You make me your business partner

and mask any emotion once real.

You lost your grip on the reigns

while we were fooling around.

Your cyclical behavior

forever has you bound.

poet Anonymous

Gemini said:I've been going through a lot of my old poems and most of them are about heroin addiction. I'm curious to read your best poems on drug/alcohol addiction. Since addicts generally hate following rules, there are no rules for this comp. I just ask that posts be kept to poems and comments about the poems. Thank you.

Gemini




Filth

I tried to help you
But you spat in my face
Force feeding me your lies
Which now I refuse to consume
I see no cure for you
You're totally fucking drained of redemption.
You make your justifications
Allowing your weaknesses and insecurities
To take hold within you
You're on your fucking own now.
Your life is slipping away
It is of your own doing.
You've stolen
You've lied
Whatever it takes you'll comply
To feed your addiction
I loved you
And now all that is left for you
Is contempt and disgust.
What we had was truly something real
You've violated it beyond repair
Tore my heart out and laid it out before me
Abandoned me for your filth
Which I refuse to consume
You're destroying yourself
And keep on pushing me away and blocking me out
Now you're hooking for cash to get a quick fix.
Without a second thought of what you've become.
I've given you your chances
And your doors I have ripped open
Only to have them shut in my face
Without a single shred of remorse
You have fucking submitted.
And left me with no other alternative.
But to leave you to your filth.

kourtnissixxx
Dangerous Mind
12awards
Joined 12th July 2011
Forum Posts: 928

The Art of Exhaust and Self Reflection

In the 
Pupils 
Of 
Imbecility 



Are
Pools of 



Atramentous  
Abomination 
 
Perspiring 
In addictive 
Evaporated 
Rain 



Always 
Showered in 



Nostalgic 
Anxiety 
 
Utterly 
Submerged 



And 
Asphyxiated 



Only 
Monochromatic 
 
Like an 
Elaborate symphony 
Of a 
Victimized phantom 
 
Requital 
Like a 
Harmonized 
Serpentine 
 
Is it 
Calamitous 



Or 
Maybe just 
Ruined 
 
Will I  
Inhale 
Endearing opus 



Just as 
Sulfurous 
As 
Atrocious 
As 
Toxic endowment 
 
A  
Wanton caress 

Euphoria 
Inside 
An  
Eerie asylum 
 
Vapid fatigue 
Like 
Resentful ecstasy 
My 
Crude awakening 
Is a 
Siesta 
In a 
Nightmare 
 
A  
Vortex that's 
Bleeding desire 
And 
Deception 
Just like 
Pernicious wicketry 
 
Causing 
Mental supernovas 



Jaded 
Clarity 



Unorthodoxed 
Musing 
 
My 



Smitten Serenity 
 
My 



Fake tranquility 
 
So is the 
Cavorting 
Artist 
In my 
Required 
Destruction 



So is the 
Melodic 
Art of 
Mesmerizing 
Smoke 
And  
Dreaded 
Self-reflection 
 

Gemini
Geminitalian
Fire of Insight
United States 9awards
Joined 28th Oct 2012
Forum Posts: 1378

Wow! 35 poems so far and I can only pick one winner out of all of these? This is going to be tough! Thank you everyone who has entered their poetry. There are a lot of really good ones!

poet Anonymous

Hindsight by the Pint


My cold beer isn't cold
anymore. It swims
in a puddle of missed details. I
should know better
by now the order of things. Like the steps
I take toward porcelain. That my night
in and out of the bottle
isn't decidedly spent
on linoleum art. I'm usually all for
retrospection. Now I'll settle for asprin and
an iota of forgiveness.

zenithquasar77
Marcus cooke
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom 10awards
Joined 6th Sep 2012
Forum Posts: 88

Pill Seeker

The pill on my tongue
Washed down with water
Stuck in my throat
Just what the doctor ordered

These pills taste bitter
These pills were supposed to make me fitter
My mind accepts the side effects
And nothing seems the same

Are these pills working?
Unable to detect
The oncoming storm of a placebo effect.

Shiny foil blister packs
scattered on the table
Sweat and tears
dripping on the warning label

Absurd Quantities of unpronounceable names
Popping pills should be an Olympic game

These pills look different,
defying description
Hang on a moment
These aren’t the pills on my prescription

Small and white they have no taste
These have a crossbow and a smiley face

Trees lose leafs
Time stand still
Who would have thought
you could put all that in a pill

Without these pills I start to feel weaker
I’m nothing more than a glorified pill-seeker

Day in and day out
I announce my dedication      
To my new friend, my medication.

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