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Array
(
[sid] => 141895
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Not Dead Yet
[time] => 2008-04-27 03:26:30
[hometext] => entirely fictional
[bodytext] => Go and steal your breakfast from the bakery
And be convinced of self-righteousness.
Cocaine driven dreams and overflowing ashtrays.
A bottle of rum and a liter of vodka.
About 45 beers to calm down.
Then a couple pep pills to stay awake.
Every blood cell saturated with nicotine.
Got to find a place to stay tonight.
The park floor made your back sore
And nobody trusts you anymore.
Getting a job would interfere with your habits.
Getting a life would impede the progress you’ve made.
You can’t recognize faces anymore.
The next morning the police find a body.
Needle in hand, opiates abundant.
Waking up in a room covered in white
You barely realize you’re not dead.
[comments] => 5
[counter] => 380
[topic] => 66
[informant] => a7x36
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 4
[ratings] => 1
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => drugabuse
)
Not Dead Yet
Contributed by
a7x36
on
Sunday, 27th April 2008 @ 03:26:30 AM in AEST
Topic:
drugabuse
|
Go and steal your breakfast from the bakery
And be convinced of self-righteousness.
Cocaine driven dreams and overflowing ashtrays.
A bottle of rum and a liter of vodka.
About 45 beers to calm down.
Then a couple pep pills to stay awake.
Every blood cell saturated with nicotine.
Got to find a place to stay tonight.
The park floor made your back sore
And nobody trusts you anymore.
Getting a job would interfere with your habits.
Getting a life would impede the progress you’ve made.
You can’t recognize faces anymore.
The next morning the police find a body.
Needle in hand, opiates abundant.
Waking up in a room covered in white
You barely realize you’re not dead.
Copyright ©
a7x36
... [
2008-04-27 03:26:30]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Not Dead Yet
(User Rating: 1 )
by little_genna on
Sunday, 27th April 2008 @ 03:41:13 AM AEST
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a Message)
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this is an intense read.... i wasnt sure what i got from it but i certainly got some vivid images which made me feel very sad inside.
thanks for sharing such a beautifully raw piece. |
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Re: Not Dead Yet
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Sunday, 27th April 2008 @ 08:13:21 AM AEST
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The Ghost Alarms will steal breakfast from the bakery in the morning. We will do this to see if indeed we become self-righteous or in our case selves-righteous. Cocaine is in our ash tray but this is only when we study Freud. We believe in order to lust after our parents we must be higher than many horses that fly above many rainbows. Yet Skeletal Jack is not only a the one who escorts us from place to place he is also the baker. So while we will steal our breakfast understand we will be stealing from a dear friend who we make laugh so his jaw un-hinges and we can laugh then in unison. If we steal from Jack we will not feel selves-righteous but selves-loathings. Speaking of Jack he has horses, but they do not fly over any rainbows they only guide his carriage or in the winter his sleigh, or as he calls it during his mass-murdering capades (which are usually featured in the winter at a sorority near you) he refers to his sleigh as his slay.
So speaking of slay...............As we sit at our desks wearing our robes we have now drown our sorrows with forty-five beers in unison to calm ourselves down. Those are many sorrows, for we are many. We will now leave to find the subject of your poem for we are inebriated. If we run across an officer of the law we will take a breathalyzer in unison and with 45 beers multiplied by many you get many which is very drunk...damn it's many drunk. Luckily we have not met an officer of the law but we did see a pig, and his name was oink. He told us that he woke up this morning covered in mud, so he must not be the subject of your poem. Finally we found Ryan, the subject of your poem. How did we know that. Yes we know CREEPY ISN'T IT. Anyway we simultaneously hit Ryan in the face with many led pipes to knock him unconscious and toss him into an old potato sack. We wanted to form experiments on him in order to better understand your poem. Unfortunately one cannot survive many simultaneous blows to the head so he was bludgeoned to death instantly. He may be the first person to ever have been bludgeoned to death instantly. Anyway he is dead now, which is to say he IS DEAD YET. So your poem is inaccurate. We wanted to tell you. Oh and we want to thank you for the guilty conscious that we have now that we've killed your beloved Ryan, whom you obviously love because you spent so much time trying to convince the world that you do not love him in this poem. We applaud you for your effort and think you shouldn't think so harshly about Opiates Abundant. He is simply misunderstood, not really a bad guy. He once wanted to be a Ghost Alarm but the whole needle thing was the problem. For we have a collected large over inflated ego that you should never bring a needle around. That's a lot of ego for we are many!
May a spooky moon beast come to you tonight as you watch television and whisper the words "Death to videodrome...Long Live The New Flesh!"
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Re: Not Dead Yet
(User Rating: 1 )
by Poetic_Punk on
Monday, 28th April 2008 @ 08:01:41 AM AEST
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a Message)
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| Good write, keep it up |
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Re: Not Dead Yet
(User Rating: 1 )
by J-A-X on
Monday, 19th May 2008 @ 03:03:07 PM AEST
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a Message)
|
| i like that..its real and gritty |
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Re: Not Dead Yet
(User Rating: 1 )
by Drunken_Koala on
Sunday, 1st June 2008 @ 04:37:12 PM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
|
| Haunting images that indeed paint a disturbing image of a person who's live has been consumed by drug addiction. Good work:) |
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