Don't do drugs, you crazy kids.

He stands up out of his ancient leather chair in a back corner of the room,
directly adjacent to the TV.
His chair.
(Nobody sits in that chair unless they have no fear of death.)
"I need a goddamn Pepsi",
he mutters under his shallow breath.
He makes his creaky, wobbling way towards the fridge;
ten feet away.
A quick stop at a small, round dining room table to catch his breath.
It seems as if it were placed there for this exact reason.
I swear I can see the thousands of cigarette butts,
the eternal flame of his trusty green bic lighter
burning in his oxygen-deprived eyes.
He takes small, staccato breaths
as the pale green tube that is constantly hanging from his face hisses and moans,
struggles to keep his oxygen level above fifty percent.
I try to keep my eyes on the football game we are watching
so they will stay off of this epic struggle for supremacy
over the two liters of tar in his lungs.
He barely makes it back to his chair,
gasping for air,
begging for breath.

Nobody sits in his goddamn chair
unless they have no fear of death.
Today I feel electric grey
I hope tomorrow, neon black
Last edited by Ganoosh at Sep 25, 2009,
Thanks for the crit. I couldn't figure out how to work in the fact that the fridge was that close, so yeah. It's kinda in a weird place.

Today I feel electric grey
I hope tomorrow, neon black
I really liked it. Especially the last 2/3. As for the ten feet away bit... hmmm... Maybe you don't need to mention distance at all. I already envisioned it about that close, but it could just be me. Perhaps across the room? The language you use in that line kind of makes distance irrelevant imo. Also, I didn't care for the two litres of tar bit. I just have a thing about measurements in poems. But all in all a fantastic read

Btw, if you wouldn't mind checking the new piece in my sig (Neon/Taxi for a Car Crash) I'd really appreciate some crit.
I feel like you posted this a while ago.... I'm getting some pretty intense deja vu here....

This is a revised, longer version of something I posted in the FreePost thread awhile ago. I do that alot.. I kinda like the other version more, but meh.

The polar bear has had his time. He will forever remain in my heart, but it's Wallace's turn now. You will grow to love him, trust me.
Today I feel electric grey
I hope tomorrow, neon black
Last edited by Ganoosh at Sep 26, 2009,
The repetition of "Nobody sits in that chair unless they have no fear of death" really did it for me. I thought it really drove the message of this piece home. I felt that line served as the "thesis" and the descriptive imagery you used above were the supporting details. This is the type of poetry I love: when one line, backed up by other images, encapsulates the purpose of the poem. I don't know, in my opinion I feel that that's really hard to do and I think you've done it here.

As for suggestions: I didn't like the line break at "supremacy". It messed up the flow for me. Also, for some of your descriptions, I felt like you were saying the same thing over and over again, namely the lack of oxygen that this man has. If there were anything I'd suggest it would be to either take out some of those lines or think of some new, unique descriptions. "Staccato breaths", for example, is a great way of describing it. It's unique and fresh, unlike "oxygen-deprived" or "gasping for air". Hopefully you know what I mean.

Overall though, I liked it for the impact of its message. I think it could be that much more powerful if you touch up some of your imagery and descriptions.
here, My Dear, here it is