The Poetic Rhymes of a Dope-Fiend

Res Ipsa Loquitur

The California Sun shines bright, so warm

yet inside of myself, I feel so cold

Just barely a week into turning

that always macabre age of thirty years old

and it's not like I've really set the World on fire

with my success, you know

but f**k it, I'm from West Stockton

and that's how wanna-be white-boy gangsta's like to roll

You really wanna know what I think was dumb?

Something I really wish I had never f*****g done,

was swallow that first pain-pill

that never made me feel pleasure that real or even fun

Barely even helped murder that God-damned pain

that late at night, when a full moon

shines through the spring rain

can cause a man once sane

to go crazy, lunatic insane

truthfully the pills don't work that well

but it still becomes a compulsive habit

before you can even begin to tell

if a person has the mind of an addict

This ain't the sixties nor the seventies

and maybe we've learned not to trust The White Rabbit

or at least, not entirely

I'm unemployed ever since Barnes and Noble fired me

I can't get another job 'cause I can't pass a piss test

so no-one will hire me

These long nights with no sleep

are starting to tire me

Yet I fear I'm already in too deep

as the pain in the joints of my body worsen

to the point where I want to weep

and I know that hydrocodone will bring sweet relief

if even for a period of time that is all too brief

I'm starting to seriously believe that the pain

the pills take away doesn't match the grief

I feel when I'm lying alone in my bed

with strange thoughts echoing about in my head

smoking on that weed

trying to keep my muddled mind off the fact

my legs are absolutely crawling

Sweat pours down my face

as I'm trying to figure out what is causing

the stomach cramps and when the liquid diarrhea

comes, I'm like 'No s**t, I'm withdrawing.'

I suffer through it all but total abstinence

is something I always seem to be PAWSing

Man, I'm not going to lie but I do love to get so high

that my head dips down as I'm nodding

off with a cigarette burning a hole in the flesh

of my hairless, white chest

Another stoned reject stuck West-Bound

In the City of Stock-town

And, Mama, I swear if I don't die from an over-dose

some-day I'll actually have money

to buy you some new clothes

Until then......in Body, Spirit, and Mind

I will continue to struggle and strive

and try to make it out of this life alive

(in the two-oh-nine)

Kazinsky

W(2)E(0)S(9)T

022813

-- God Bless the Dead --

Reviews

[Southern Cross]

I took the challange because you said I wouldn't like your other work. This is raw , open and has that bite to it. We all have our addictions..Mine was love..They all cause scars. The healing process is long but when one finally emerges from the cave and feels the freedom, the fight to overcome it was worth its teadious struggle. I pray I never have a relapse.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this is like charles bukowski and alan ginsberg fusing into one.

really like the in your face style...and it really lets go...

good stuff here.

jacob

[Andrew N. Farrens]

Not sure about Alan Ginsberg because I never liked "Howl" , but the Bukowski compliment is quite an honor....thank-you.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

your reaction is interesting...although i very much like your poem...i never cared for bukowski...but like ginsberg...

differences make the world go around...and yes, either way...it is a very intense and good piece of writing.

[quinfinn]

whoa! i know this drill. i have been trying to take the edge off for years, what poison will it be today? and if i can't score some oxy or some hydro i may go uptown and talk to the corner boys, slide some boy up my nose and pray i dont get addicted...girl dont do it, she is fickle and fleeting and leaves much too quickly...liquor, sure, legal, but no solace, takes too much to dull the pain...what next? medicare...free government drugs...cut off by the republicans...weed, nice dreams but no real painkiller...bro....ain't no real answers to this vicious cycle...back to brother beer....no vomit, drink hard and you can at least get some sleep...oh man! this write assaults my senses...what's a sufferer to do? awesome write, my friend!