Smoked Out

 

 

It is black beyond the wooden frame,

Yes, it’s black not dark,

It seems so for ages now,

Well,

May be I missed on the sun or perhaps the sun missed me out,

But I had been here all along, gazing out.

 

And it’s smoky white inside this smothering structure,

White, angelic white,

The vision is blurred.

 

But past the smoke,

I see a red though; it’s my 59^th smouldering cigarette,

It’s burnt till the butt, and the tip of my lips,

But it doesn’t burn,

I want to suck in till the last cannabis burns,

And make the bitter smoke linger forever.

 

I feel so light,

Am I high?

Perhaps

This addiction is not good, I do know.

But I am not addicted; the pain is addicted, it’s my foe.

Inflicting pain, with every moment.

 

Hmmm…. I stub the butt somewhere.

Now, I need more.

I fumble for the pack,

But I have no-more.

 

Goddamn it.

How do I fight the pain now?

Die I might, if I’m not high

 

Let me deceit my-self for sometime more,

And play the happy-man without cigarette any-more.

 

 

Reviews

[R J Askew]

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.

[Jenny Davis]

Well, you seemed to struggle with the language of this a bit...but otherwise an interesting piece :)

Peace 2 u,
Jenny

[Robert Luna]

There are those that become addicted to drugs because of pain others for an escape from reality. All in all once they have given themselves to a new god so to speak. It is a hard road to get away from. You reality becomes nothing more than a hell. Because your body starts to hurt from the lack of your needs and desire. Not be able to tell the difference from why you started in the first place and the place you now find yourself. A junkie feeling a need to curb a beast that dwells inside you now. Both place eventually turn to a hell or prison you have placed yourself.

I enjoyed this and I think you capture a raw sight of what happens to you in that life.

Great jOb!!!!!

[Ruby Moon]

its interesting...
but somehow it seems a bit too structured for it to come from someone high
but then again...sometimes amazing thought and ideas come when you least expect it
like when you are dead tired or high
~.^
its good...
maybe i am just tired...lol

[SamSarcasm]

nice :)