Poetry competition CLOSED 24th May 2013 8:34pm
WINNER
Abracadabra
Abracadabra
RUNNER-UP:
lightbaron
ADDICTION
My Dead Junkie Lover
The rules
were always:
Don't party in the ashtrays
& please
no needles
to clean up off the floor
But they were my rules
never hers
I realized
she was flying
the night I called her
on my way home
Her voice
feigning stray cat familiar
cracked and foolish
beyond repair
Then the lights
flashing slowly
at the corner of our block
blues and reds looming closer
until I knew
it had to be her
Pale limbs
stiffening too soon
like a baby under a blanket
they carry her out
while Death's surprise
grins from a bubble of air
So no more
final chances
no more last goodbyes
Shit promises of rehab
brittle as the wind
not even a frozen kiss
haunting the summer night
The rules
were always:
Don't party in the ashtrays
& please
no needles
to clean up off the floor
But they were my rules
never hers
I realized
she was flying
the night I called her
on my way home
Her voice
feigning stray cat familiar
cracked and foolish
beyond repair
Then the lights
flashing slowly
at the corner of our block
blues and reds looming closer
until I knew
it had to be her
Pale limbs
stiffening too soon
like a baby under a blanket
they carry her out
while Death's surprise
grins from a bubble of air
So no more
final chances
no more last goodbyes
Shit promises of rehab
brittle as the wind
not even a frozen kiss
haunting the summer night
Old Habits
I thought I'd write a poem to describe just where it is I'm at.
I've revisited a habit from the past, can only blame myself for that.
From one small seed...
To a full grown weed...
The want has turned into greed.
The greed has turned into need.
I fear it will never heed.
It's in my veins that it breeds.
Praying on my weakness to live and feed.
The only thing that's guaranteed.
Is its an uphill battle with this drug called speed.
I need to be strong and hold it back.
I need all my ammunition to defend its attack.
Now it's up to me to just say no.
Next time I get the urge to go.
I think it's wishfull thinking, well actually I know.
I thought I'd write a poem to describe just where it is I'm at.
I've revisited a habit from the past, can only blame myself for that.
From one small seed...
To a full grown weed...
The want has turned into greed.
The greed has turned into need.
I fear it will never heed.
It's in my veins that it breeds.
Praying on my weakness to live and feed.
The only thing that's guaranteed.
Is its an uphill battle with this drug called speed.
I need to be strong and hold it back.
I need all my ammunition to defend its attack.
Now it's up to me to just say no.
Next time I get the urge to go.
I think it's wishfull thinking, well actually I know.
and though they shake my hand
they still search for some kind of tell
says I'm high
I see them, out of the corner of my eye
taking stock of their valuables
she's the worst of them all
because on some level
I almost wish the plague back upon me
so as to not let her down
almost, want to put her out of her misery
they still search for some kind of tell
says I'm high
I see them, out of the corner of my eye
taking stock of their valuables
she's the worst of them all
because on some level
I almost wish the plague back upon me
so as to not let her down
almost, want to put her out of her misery
"shouldn't say"
this is going to be something
that I shouldn't have written.
First off,
it ain't of no thoroughbred whimsy;
courted through a chandelier
of crystalline cat-calls
no,
it's the only whore
drunk enough
to be seen
with me.
Four, or
six in the morning
at the bathroom mirror;
a back-alley physician
with duct-taped hemostats
and tweezers
worn well enough
to have aided
the mummification
of Akhenaton,
obliterating
any area of dermis
that even considers blemish.
This is something
that I shouldn't have written
because
my shopping lists
are too honest,
and no one believes it's allergies anyway.
note* an older write
this is going to be something
that I shouldn't have written.
First off,
it ain't of no thoroughbred whimsy;
courted through a chandelier
of crystalline cat-calls
no,
it's the only whore
drunk enough
to be seen
with me.
Four, or
six in the morning
at the bathroom mirror;
a back-alley physician
with duct-taped hemostats
and tweezers
worn well enough
to have aided
the mummification
of Akhenaton,
obliterating
any area of dermis
that even considers blemish.
This is something
that I shouldn't have written
because
my shopping lists
are too honest,
and no one believes it's allergies anyway.
note* an older write
"early registry"
been plotting
a bit lately
with the poltergeists of past,
self-diagnosis
and its medicine
it's not memory
or nostalgia
no
the rogue electricians
have rewired
the roadways
it's an alternate list of necessity
as decreed by auto-shrink
1. breathe (if need be)
2. oil the escape hatch
3. everything else
regret is for tomorrows couch,
and tomorrow has been banished from the list
these are not the ignoring type
of banshees
these are the shrieks of shadows
that you sew your mouth shut
or
you sing along to
note* yup, an older write, a very familiar neighborhood
been plotting
a bit lately
with the poltergeists of past,
self-diagnosis
and its medicine
it's not memory
or nostalgia
no
the rogue electricians
have rewired
the roadways
it's an alternate list of necessity
as decreed by auto-shrink
1. breathe (if need be)
2. oil the escape hatch
3. everything else
regret is for tomorrows couch,
and tomorrow has been banished from the list
these are not the ignoring type
of banshees
these are the shrieks of shadows
that you sew your mouth shut
or
you sing along to
note* yup, an older write, a very familiar neighborhood
Pacing back and forth
I open and close the closet
fighting myself yet another night
grabbing my secret
I press it to my chest
promising myself ill only inhale once
everything becomes a blurr
my ears ring
and my throats dry
I cannot feel my legs
and my arms lay limp at my sides
scrunching my eyes against the light
I kick my feet trying to find myself
through this numb haze
I can hear the metal bottle click against my foot
and of all things i smile
laughing at myself
curling on my side
I clutch the covers in both hands
and whisper to my pillow
"See its OK I'm still alive, I never die"
this is what i tell myself many nights
before i come down from the warm feeling
that's sinks in the pit of my stomach
the only evidence of an addict
is her eyes
I open and close the closet
fighting myself yet another night
grabbing my secret
I press it to my chest
promising myself ill only inhale once
everything becomes a blurr
my ears ring
and my throats dry
I cannot feel my legs
and my arms lay limp at my sides
scrunching my eyes against the light
I kick my feet trying to find myself
through this numb haze
I can hear the metal bottle click against my foot
and of all things i smile
laughing at myself
curling on my side
I clutch the covers in both hands
and whisper to my pillow
"See its OK I'm still alive, I never die"
this is what i tell myself many nights
before i come down from the warm feeling
that's sinks in the pit of my stomach
the only evidence of an addict
is her eyes
"binary"
we are all made
from the stuff
of stars
fact.
enough right there
to paint something pretty
but
right now
we are the stuff from stars
inside bodies that bloom
and rot
rot, that seems to affect us
more than not
your sickness appears
to match my own, my dear
let me draw a bath
you need to bleed
and I just need warmth
let us hold hands
and lash out at reason
when the debt from dependence
is due
nestle my starstuff
into your weakness
and until we see sky
worth shining in
let us implode together
binary
and call it love
note* also a prewrite, but of a different dependence
we are all made
from the stuff
of stars
fact.
enough right there
to paint something pretty
but
right now
we are the stuff from stars
inside bodies that bloom
and rot
rot, that seems to affect us
more than not
your sickness appears
to match my own, my dear
let me draw a bath
you need to bleed
and I just need warmth
let us hold hands
and lash out at reason
when the debt from dependence
is due
nestle my starstuff
into your weakness
and until we see sky
worth shining in
let us implode together
binary
and call it love
note* also a prewrite, but of a different dependence
death swept away by just
one
breath
more
until i wouldn't mind dying today
or any day as long as a second ago stays the same
not much, not
a lot of anything to be
if less than human,
if not a corpse
and very quickly not enough
one
and one
and one
one
more
one
breath
more
until i wouldn't mind dying today
or any day as long as a second ago stays the same
not much, not
a lot of anything to be
if less than human,
if not a corpse
and very quickly not enough
one
and one
and one
one
more
Love a gamble 
The Key
Ready stack those racks
get your head in the game
big cash, tonight on the
felt I'm marked for death
Maniac tonight, raise me
mother fucker..Right back
atcha you got the balls
to play this game?
Coolered ran my Ace Queen
into trip queens
two aces in there dealer?
Poker yea she a harsh mistress
putting off the reload,
need to gather the head..
Five/Ten go home fucking donk,
"Getting our gamble on boys?"
Sit me down with 80bb
short night, table
loose as a red light night out
Like a war out there
AGRESSION key,
triple barrel bluff the
RIVER brings the five,
decided a tricky trap
check check,
Reraise lets gamble
two pair...
No good mate the poker god's
Shine as I catch my nine..
Poker like karma
works both ways
The Key
Ready stack those racks
get your head in the game
big cash, tonight on the
felt I'm marked for death
Maniac tonight, raise me
mother fucker..Right back
atcha you got the balls
to play this game?
Coolered ran my Ace Queen
into trip queens
two aces in there dealer?
Poker yea she a harsh mistress
putting off the reload,
need to gather the head..
Five/Ten go home fucking donk,
"Getting our gamble on boys?"
Sit me down with 80bb
short night, table
loose as a red light night out
Like a war out there
AGRESSION key,
triple barrel bluff the
RIVER brings the five,
decided a tricky trap
check check,
Reraise lets gamble
two pair...
No good mate the poker god's
Shine as I catch my nine..
Poker like karma
works both ways
Cigarette
Give me a ruse. Give me a need.
Such trifling desires are reserved for the weak.
I'll be weak for you.
I'll sell my soul to feel you in me.
You're an enigma.
Your Venomous leaves, your putrid embrace, your beacon ignites, glowing like fire.
Revitalizing.
Rivet me in your bluish gray mist. You bring order to chaos.
You spring hope in devastated hearts.
Sweet soldier of death you! Never leave me.
Your tests I will stand. Your torture I can't resist.
My best friend.
My worst enemy.
Innocence in disguise.
Humble and kind.
Unrelenting misery cloaked in ecstasy.
Lay upon me, euphoria I so crave for.
You will be the death of me.
And in my death you shall become eternal.
The instrument of self destruction.
You scream in silent agony. Your horrid melodies pamper my senses.
You've gripped me so. I'm addicted to your madness, this hunger you chain me to.
A slave to you, forever. Release me never.
Yours truly.
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/25809.jpg
Give me a ruse. Give me a need.
Such trifling desires are reserved for the weak.
I'll be weak for you.
I'll sell my soul to feel you in me.
You're an enigma.
Your Venomous leaves, your putrid embrace, your beacon ignites, glowing like fire.
Revitalizing.
Rivet me in your bluish gray mist. You bring order to chaos.
You spring hope in devastated hearts.
Sweet soldier of death you! Never leave me.
Your tests I will stand. Your torture I can't resist.
My best friend.
My worst enemy.
Innocence in disguise.
Humble and kind.
Unrelenting misery cloaked in ecstasy.
Lay upon me, euphoria I so crave for.
You will be the death of me.
And in my death you shall become eternal.
The instrument of self destruction.
You scream in silent agony. Your horrid melodies pamper my senses.
You've gripped me so. I'm addicted to your madness, this hunger you chain me to.
A slave to you, forever. Release me never.
Yours truly.
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/25809.jpg
Thirsty
The bottle moved without me
its top unscrewed
and poured
My glass was waiting patiently
it knew I wanted more
The bottle laughed without me
its top unscrewed
and poured
My glass was waiting patiently
it knew I wanted more
The bottle danced without me
its top unscrewed
and poured
My glass was waiting patiently
it knew I wanted more
The bottle sang without me
its top unscrewed
and poured
My glass was waiting patiently
it knew I wanted more
The bottle cried without me
its top unscrewed
and poured
My glass was waiting patiently
it knew I wanted more
And now the bottle's empty
in pieces on the floor
I dance, I sing, I laugh, I cry
and still I
thirst for more
The bottle moved without me
its top unscrewed
and poured
My glass was waiting patiently
it knew I wanted more
The bottle laughed without me
its top unscrewed
and poured
My glass was waiting patiently
it knew I wanted more
The bottle danced without me
its top unscrewed
and poured
My glass was waiting patiently
it knew I wanted more
The bottle sang without me
its top unscrewed
and poured
My glass was waiting patiently
it knew I wanted more
The bottle cried without me
its top unscrewed
and poured
My glass was waiting patiently
it knew I wanted more
And now the bottle's empty
in pieces on the floor
I dance, I sing, I laugh, I cry
and still I
thirst for more
A Choice
I'm not quite sure what I want
A bullet to my head
Or a needle in my arm.
One kills my body
The other kills my soul
Both have suffered far too long.
I'll probably do neither
I'll lie here and try to convince myself
Better days will be coming soon.
I've been down this road before
I know the better days are a lie
If they even come, they are fleeting.
I'm an agnostic, sometimes atheist
But I'm also a hypocrite
Denying God exists in one breath and cursing him the next
I'm nothing but a hypocrite
Because I don't believe in heaven
But too scared to kill myself for a fear of hell.
Give me the needle
It works better than any of the scrips
The so called professionals prescribed
At least then my life
Seems to at least be tolerable
And there are actual moments of pleasure.
Maybe it's time to return to my religion
The holy symbols and tools
Of the plastic cross and metal spoon.
The drugs the body and the water the blood
With both parts of my Christ
In my veins I become whole.
Oh the curse you call addiction
But since I consider it my religion
I call it devotion.
I'm not quite sure what I want
A bullet to my head
Or a needle in my arm.
One kills my body
The other kills my soul
Both have suffered far too long.
I'll probably do neither
I'll lie here and try to convince myself
Better days will be coming soon.
I've been down this road before
I know the better days are a lie
If they even come, they are fleeting.
I'm an agnostic, sometimes atheist
But I'm also a hypocrite
Denying God exists in one breath and cursing him the next
I'm nothing but a hypocrite
Because I don't believe in heaven
But too scared to kill myself for a fear of hell.
Give me the needle
It works better than any of the scrips
The so called professionals prescribed
At least then my life
Seems to at least be tolerable
And there are actual moments of pleasure.
Maybe it's time to return to my religion
The holy symbols and tools
Of the plastic cross and metal spoon.
The drugs the body and the water the blood
With both parts of my Christ
In my veins I become whole.
Oh the curse you call addiction
But since I consider it my religion
I call it devotion.
