I thought the intimacy of the piece was its most appealing feature. i could feel you thinking as you smoked, weighing things up. I assumed the first verse was about your personal outlook. Tis sad to be in the black emotionlly, but the description is very effective, if I have read it right. More broadly, I have often watched smokers -- now reduced to standing outside buildings in London -- and they seem to have a look of great introspection often, i presume as their bodies are focussing on the hit, the relaxation, or the brief moment of escape. There is also a strange romance about smoking, a cavalier hedonism. On the other hand it is an evil thing. I dunno much about getting high as I can't be bothered any more. A mocha and half an hour reading in a quiet cafe is all the high I seem to need now. The poem also reminded me very strongly of my father smoking -- untipped Capstan Full Strength. He even used to re-roll the stumps. Can you imagine the tar concentration? You can imagine how things ended for him. I should add I smoked myself when i was 18-24. Sod it, just quit! Poem works really well, very evocative. Got me thinking that for sure.
There is some confusion on my part; cigarettes and cannabis are distinctly different. And to the best of my knowledge- pot is not addictive. If the pain is intense enough- don't the end justify the means? The imagery floats on the clouds of smoke you have characterized. An interesting read, indeed.
The stilted sentences, conveyed via line breaks, work really well to demonstrate the narrator feeling like he/she is in some dark hell due to addiction. The reader can tell that you put thought into this; it seems that you're not writing from your own experience, instead trying to capture the viewpoint of another, and I have to say you've done a great job of getting into the mindset of an addict.
I liked the hyphenated phrases in your final stanza "my-self", "any-more"; seemed like the narrator was trying to re-affirm their vow to quit somehow by stretching out words, placing emphasis on them.
Overall, good job. It seems from you description that this is a new style for you, or maybe just a new topic, I'm not sure.
How do I fight the pain now?
Die I might, if I'm not high.
So let me deceit my-self for sometime more,
And play the happy-man without any cigarette any-more.
Very nice rhythmic flow to this....very visual! Good job all around!
Hmm really great piece you have here. Your descriptions are spot on, specially the part about fighting your pain without your "high"
One can escape it so many ways, some do it by their addictions, a concept I understand all too well. However addictions could be so many things, more than just using drugs. People will do anything at times to escape reality. That is why I loved your poem so much, it is all woven into one very thought provoking master piece.
I thought the intimacy of the piece was its most appealing feature. i could feel you thinking as you smoked, weighing things up. I assumed the first verse was about your personal outlook. Tis sad to be in the black emotionlly, but the description is very effective, if I have read it right. More broadly, I have often watched smokers -- now reduced to standing outside buildings in London -- and they seem to have a look of great introspection often, i presume as their bodies are focussing on the hit, the relaxation, or the brief moment of escape. There is also a strange romance about smoking, a cavalier hedonism. On the other hand it is an evil thing. I dunno much about getting high as I can't be bothered any more. A mocha and half an hour reading in a quiet cafe is all the high I seem to need now. The poem also reminded me very strongly of my father smoking -- untipped Capstan Full Strength. He even used to re-roll the stumps. Can you imagine the tar concentration? You can imagine how things ended for him. I should add I smoked myself when i was 18-24. Sod it, just quit! Poem works really well, very evocative. Got me thinking that for sure.
Spoken like a true, high, smoker! A great write alerting others to the dangers involved. I like when the person was out of cigarettes. lol. You covered every angle in your unique and well written poem.
Hmmm.... About me ?!?!? I am what i would have wanted myself to be, i am a butterfly when i want to tickle the flowers, i am a bird when i want to compete with the flecks of cotton, i am the river whe.. more..