Poetry competition CLOSED 24th May 2013 8:34pm
View Profile Poems by Abracadabra
RUNNER-UP: lightbaron

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Lost Thinker
India 1awards
Joined 23rd Feb 2013
Forum Posts: 66

Addiction of "Writing"

Yes.....I am an Addictor,
An Addictor to "Write",
All those thoughts...
Which made my Lips tight.

Yes.....I am an Addictor,
An Addictor to "Think",
All those thoughts...
Which made my Heart sink.

Yes.....I am an Addictor,
An Addictor to "Evaluate",
All those feels....
Which made me under estimate.

Yes.....I am an Addictor,
An Addictor to "Fight",
For all those inner voices,
who kept aside to ask for their "Rights".

Yes.....I am an Addictor,
An Addictor to "Write",
Upto my Last.....
To prove that... To "Write" is always more powerful than "Fight".

Lost Thinker
United States
Joined 26th Apr 2013
Forum Posts: 26

The spoon is cold.

You went off while I was at work
And shot up with a stranger.
Now you're dead in an alley
While I'm living in hell.
It should have been me.
You never gave back my heart
Before you went and OD'd
And I'm too scared to dig up your corpse
To get it back on my own.
I wouldn't use it anyway.
Besides, I rather remember you like you were
Not bones and rotting flesh in a box.
Just so long as you don't see me
Like I've been since you died.
You'd be upset with me.

It's a bad day, on my last syringe
Now I actually need to leave the house.
Cringe when I think of all the ones that I've shared
A feeble attempt an indirect suicide that failed.
Somehow I remain clean.
Do a shot just before leaving
Now I can't hear anything in my head.
Put on my headphones, walking out the door
Now I can't hear anything outside my head.
Not silence, but as close as I'll get.
Make the long walk to the exchange van
No interactions with anyone
Except with my dealer
And the lady to get my new rigs.
How am I still alive and free?

Back home with a couple 10 packs.
About to get on the ferry to come visit you
But Charon wasn't wearing his red sash.
Maybe he updated his wardrobe.
Who am I to judge?
Turns out I just ended up in Algiers
Sure it's a Hades of its own
But not the one I can see you in.
How'd he screw up my destination?
I want my obolus back!
Now I'll have to wander these shores
For a hundred years
When I finally manage to die
If I'm not immortal, that is.
This life's been too long, the spoon is cold.

Fire of Insight
Canada 2awards
Joined 18th Nov 2012
Forum Posts: 397

Catatonic inscriptions etches through my textile discernment
Insidious cycles of turmoil encased within a festering distress
Uncertainty obscures my comfort into a chaotic complacency
Transforming the subtle movement of thought and bewilderment
Through the re-occurring sequences of paranoia and my uneasy psychosis
Haunting the whole of this psyche and the mental state I've come to fancy

A tell-tale apprehension of merriment and contentment may be a dismal reality
All the while being obsessed with the unfavorable outcomes I conjure within
But, I can't get enough of the disarray that breeds within my frail skull
So distant from what I feel in the ecstasy of my self-selected normality
The meek proposal of sanity has little to hold against these crooked grins
As this chaotic thought process leaves rationality as a vague ideal to null

Expansive introspection has no limit to what is perceived as validity
And, to be enveloped in the ambiguity and delusion of fact is so enticing
We all know that we've all come to recognize the fabrication of our own truth
The futile attempts to obtain an immaculate conviction in pure solidity
Is so wondrously perfunctory and constant as the life that i'm living
That I dread the day of departure from this hysteric observance of aging youth

Angela Psyhopoulos
Fire of Insight
Australia 7awards
Joined 1st Mar 2013
Forum Posts: 100

My brother's name is Thomas
he has a loko sun
he leaves in a special home away
from the vale portraying a gun

He has a Nurse and a Nun and me
and Mum who care for him.
he's is my priority, and when
he's aloud visits we collide like two kids' wizardry

No one really knows about the place
We sleep with no corrective officer
We are kids from out of space
And if there is something wrong down town he'd be the first to pellate the pace

He brings peace and art because his a merlyn
Even though his handicap he's artwork is filled with love
He would wake up and with a smile say "Do you want to be love today or should I"
We named him LOVE because all the voices in his head would be depressed and he would make art so thay wont be oppressed.

There was a no cure for his illness and I got a little attached
The addiction to nurture him had its own attacks
Who am I to be so previledged even to look in to his eyes
I will work twice as hard by crying late at night

My addiction to the tears were no agony but anticipation
We didn't know why I was crying but his eyes brought peace and
The whole time I'd look into his eyes I'd see a healer that converts terror to be a new born baby smile

He can't do all this by himself I have to help him out
So we danced together and said a poem and giggled to a song
It was by prince" All seven and will watch them fall"
Thomas was thinking of the voices, thay don't stop morning to night

So we hoped all seven of them would die.
And thay did, one lonely night, I felt like buying yellow Lillies and he sighed
His face showed danger, something was coming. I was alert
But did not identify it was death calling until he spoke.

HE said "You're the Devil and you want me? You're going to take me, after everything I have done for you?" Me and MUm started reading the Bible.
Thomas left the special home and ran away into the streets Police had to bring him home

Thomas fought the devil with all his might and after all the work he had done was taken by Grace and God
The spirit world sent me a message, and I am working as well
To keep the sun we had as LOko so I can nurture him some more

The voices are now gone and he's resting in peace.
I still have an addiction but I can't nurture him.
I can do a prayer to reserve the peace of the Holy Spirit
And still I live alone wishing I could take care of him some more.

There is a special place I go and I speak to him in riddles
He comes back to the citadel and gives me vowels to fiddle with
That Loko sun was ours and we'll keep it thank you Nun
To my addiction, may I be burried next to his grave in the Sun.

Lost Thinker
United States
Joined 9th May 2013
Forum Posts: 38

The glint against my skin
it's as cold as tin
this forever make me awake
The icing to my cake
The blade is so enticing
clod against my flesh
i want this so bad
But wait will anyone notice
the gaps missing from my flesh?

poet Anonymous


RUNNER-UP: lightbaron and _m_L_    

ALL the poems were very very good.
Thank you to all who participated.
With admiration to all.

Tyrant of Words
Kiribati 21awards
Joined 13th Nov 2009
Forum Posts: 2581

Wow, that's made my day Kitty.
Yipee & thank you.
Congrats to everyone for such a high standard of work.
I may even take a lemonade or three to celebrate...

Darker Half
Dangerous Mind
Belize 30awards
Joined 5th Dec 2012
Forum Posts: 1483

The poems were awesome!

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