Addiction

I intended to post a new thread.. but I decided to add to yours..

The Walrus Does Funny Things To The Veins In His Left Arm, alright..

draws red from blue,
stakes claims,
makes ruins of cognition,
flaws synaptic transmit,

borrows glad from you,
craves and maims,
staves not ruinition,
follows the saddest scrit

Both very nice, insightful poems about addiction. Thank you both for them. I will add my own (well, it is one of many I have on the subject) to this thread. It's about alcohol withdrawal, also known as Delirium Tremens, which is also the title:


Delirium Tremens

Your blood boils, and then
It seems that there
Might be nothing
Else; that this
Time you may have
Gotten away lucky:
A clearness as of
Frigid water forced
Over your sleeping
Head. But then
Civilization crowds around
Your peripheral
Sight;
With every possible image
Comes another,
And yet another;
All feverish history
Coalesced within your
Optical nerve;
You can't see
The sides of the
Hallway, only
The carpet or ceiling:
The insects of progress
Buzz swarmingly
Around your outer
Sockets,
Visions forming in the mass
Like grass clippings
Or clouds:
Not hallucinations
Really
But cognizant unrealities:
Beowulf sleeping
On the Golden Gate,
Stiff underwear marching
Over Leningrad,
Broken pills in a dresser drawer
Beside the scissors,
Impossibly large globs
Of mascara and gin syrup
Banging on the door,
Warm flashes of wanton islands
Searching through
Your soaked drunken pants
Finding car keys
And onions,
Printing presses moaning
And gurgling
Under a mooney sky
Twitching about for the
Relief of their burden,
Your socks sprouting wings
Or maybe leaves,
Your own face
Before you, magnified
A million times, people living
In the pores of your nose
Criticizing your naked blushing body,
The woman beside you
Not a body but a
Pencil, an amorous,
Pensive pencil
Laying purposefully inert,
The woman a mast of
Swarming, cogent
Bugs
Within the periphery of your
Periphery,
Not to be touched
Or even contemplated upon.
Then amidst the visions--
Among the boiling blood--
The most terrible:
Quakes, small
At first like
Tiny skeletal nudges,
Barely
Consequential spasms
Of reversed desire,
Years of stored-up
Bodily indulgence
Backfiring fumes
Through your epidermis;
Then gaining size,
Quakes becoming
Explosions, massive,
Unending, will-less.
The lamp hits the floor,
Maybe it shatters,
Maybe it doesn't,
The sheets torn
From the bed
In a heap in the
Corner,
Everywhere you touch
You may destroy:
It is not up to you:
It is no longer up to you:
What once was a choice
Now jumps through your extremities
In a series of jolts
Which have gone beyond
The warning stage
And entered
Delirium Tremens,
The last bastion of the blood you own
Needing more,
While screaming for so much less.

Kwyjibo wrote:

ah yes, alcohol withdrawals. Sometimes I get the shakes when I haven't drank a few days you know.

I know all too well. I haven't been there for awhile, though. Managed to get away from it, but only after dropping to some pretty low lows. I'd get the dt's after a few dry hours. Which makes it difficult to work, or do much of anything else. Life seems to pretty much fall away after awhile.

Here's a poem I wrote about the falling-apart of life after some years of very constant drinking:

At Twenty-Five

At seventeen I told the fourteen year-olds
Wait till you see what happens here
At twenty I said to those with eighteen
You cannot imagine how strenuous it becomes
At twenty-one I advised the younger
Trust someone who has already seen it all
At twenty-three I screamed in their faces
Go back! Prepare to rue the world!
Now at twenty-five I ask the nineteen-year-olds
Who's in charge here? What's happening to me?

Am I to start over?

At twenty-five is sad/good

olderman....I liked yours

Kwijbo (sp).....yours was good too.....

heheheheheh....

nivir been addicted to drugs or alcholol heheheehe

(kidding....I haven't been addicted to alcohol yet.....or drugs.....or sex....or fukkin death....right now I'm addicted to GOD and my baby)

Did somebody say addiction?