it's still free-verse and they'll continue to be so, but I'm proud of this rant.
let me know if you have any suggestions to make it better.
Previous Version
This is a previous version of rough draft.
squirming oval tablets slip and slither down my throat,
I need them more than ever to numb my mind and soul.
I took one too many lefts as I missed too many rights.
and now I'm sitting deep inside this asphalt paradise.
Everybody is looking for something. anything that they can call love. It's so confused and I know myself a hypocrite as I call them fools.
I do uppers to give myself a catalyst and an excuse to blow my insecurities out of proportion and say those famous last words: "f**k it."
I take depressants to silence the voices in my head so I can think for two god damn seconds
I partake in the (shhh hallucinogens) to talk to those voices in my head as I pray to God that deep down, I’m not as insane as they are.
I’m fine with all of that but this feeling is unsettling… I've spent the last four years of my life getting stoned drunk and all kinds of high. all day every day. now I can't even function as a student or son or significant other.
The problem is that sobriety is boring. I know there's something more than this. Something better than all of this, all of us, but I've lost control of my reality and have misplaced my identity.
I can't even get close enough to anybody to vent these thoughts and feelings and that's the most unsettling of all.
Inanimate friends do not equal healthy mental or social skills.
F**k it though, the lines in my notebook have always been a place of solace and refuge, a place to release all this s**t that builds up inside of me so I don’t lose my mind and have a complete f*****g meltdown.
I knew many people who lived for the high. They couldn't face life without some sort of drugs. The poem was honest and direct. Some places where drugs can take you. There is no return.
"I've lost control of my reality
and have misplaced my identity."
I like the strong ending to the excellent poetry.
Coyote
Despite the very adult subject matter, it was kind of beautiful. Addiction is a struggle that every singe human being on this planet can relate too. Some addictions are more ugly than others....but it's all in the same....it enslaves us....despite our better judgement we need and crave these things to feel "alive" ?
I took too many lefts and just
fell short of making rights-
now the clock tics slow &
I sit deep in this asphalt paradise.
Paradise is in our perception, being lost in a fog....the world is an ugly place, and unfortunately it's the only way one can manage to cope some days.
you're right that paradise is relative I won't argue that, but the use of "asphalt paradise" here is.. read moreyou're right that paradise is relative I won't argue that, but the use of "asphalt paradise" here is a sardonic statement attempting to sum up my feeling hopeless and bitter about everything preceding that line. I felt like I was in whatever the direct opposite of paradise is which is why it was just made of asphalt. at what points did you find this poem strong or weak?
This comment has been deleted by the poster.
11 Years Ago
I'm not a critique...if you honestly want some advice "knowing that I struggle with this too" less c.. read moreI'm not a critique...if you honestly want some advice "knowing that I struggle with this too" less can be more if we just reread and try to paraphrase for example:
a creeping feeling begins to crawl up the base
of my spine, slinging itself over my shoulder
a feeling creeps up my spine
slinging itself over my shoulder
can you say just as much...by saying less? I gues with poetry, I think you are dealing with a short attention span with most readers...you need to choose your words wisely.
What was strong...you did not hold back...I dislike writers that hold back in fear of offending someone. If you hold back...what's the point of writing? Creativity should have zero boundaries. And yes, I understood the sarcasm at the end...it's like trying to say you are rating a crock roach hotel with a five star review to sugar coat the situation in which you choose to live.
I knew many people who lived for the high. They couldn't face life without some sort of drugs. The poem was honest and direct. Some places where drugs can take you. There is no return.
"I've lost control of my reality
and have misplaced my identity."
I like the strong ending to the excellent poetry.
Coyote
this is pretty heavy and depressing... good thing you're getting some of it out of your system by writing it down... it's very well written. still, you don't seem to be nihilistic... while I am the opposite of you (I think sobriety is exhilarating a lot of times) it's still an interesting perspective you offer and those feelings of despair I have felt before..... just keep writing.
Thank you for the genuine read and review, I really do appreciate it.
The things I write tend.. read moreThank you for the genuine read and review, I really do appreciate it.
The things I write tend to have a tone of clarity, anger or despair, I guess it's when the words flow the best, you know?
I wish I could share your feelings on sobriety, luckily I haven't been drinking or anything for more than a couple years so I still remember what that feels like. I envy you for that without a doubt.
I know you said you like this piece and I know it flows really well and everything, but is there anything you would personally change about it if you could?