#1
A.D.D, O.C.D, A.D.H.D, Anxiety
Some depression, a little trauma
Wrap it in neglect and cook
On low, slowly, for years
with general awkwardness.

Add the company of the Five-O
For a quarter of my first ever trip.
With moms heavy disappointment cause
She was bright enough to never take more than 1.
And you get me, taking 4 to reach the sky’s floor
Cause there were no other doors out.

A shot of college failure
A thumpin from the labor world,
Trading black eyes for teeth with a friend
And simmer with nameless anger.

After a few more good trips
I fall into another bad ending,
With 5 grams of boomers
I felt reborn, an angel soaring-
As I was carried and tossed
Into a squad car.
Wearing only soaked jeans
on a picture perfect christmas night

I’ve never been so confident
As I flirted and laughed with
A pretty EMT.
Who soon pulled me outa the clouds
To the cold hard bed of a hospital.

Some three hours later
My mom and her new boyfriend drove me home,
Where I slept on the floor beside there bed.
No longer full of new life, I awoke feeling like
I often imagined People do after they dream,
and wanna trade everything in, to have never woken up.

Days after my sister found our father we never knew-
on facebook.
Who decided to friend us after we posted a joke
Overtop his picture of his back scratcher business promo
“Its 2010…Do you know where your children are?”
I had my first EVER conversation with my father
Through facebook messaging, about who my mother was ****ing
in my sisters bed and who is to blame for his absence
in my dead weight life.
I sent to him an essay theorizing the good
To come of his death I threw together on lunch break.
He never replied. :-(

After all the pills, all the therapy,
All the drugs, the great, good, and bad trips
And finally E-meeting(?) my father
I’m still a finely cooked concoction
of rotting problems slowly burning away my mind
in any way I can.

The best fix for me,
As momentary as any pill or feel-good speech
Is to hike to the top of a high mountain peak
With a tallboy, a joint or two, and a cap
Watch the sun set visuals
And make your way out of the wilderness after dark,
Cause nothing will matter more
then finding a bed for a decent nights sleep
when your out of your in-sane mind
climbing back down a cliff.
Last edited by CarnivalBeam at Jul 6, 2010,
#2
I just wanna say something very quickly:

I wish the first verse's comical and maniacal style continued and upheld it's credence throughout the rest of the piece, because it really was something different and fun.

After the opening, I unfortunately found myself refusing to bother with the remaining stanzas since I already knew what you were gonna say. I feel like you've given me nothing - other than the opening - in the way of separation between you and the world, which is what is often the case regarding the topic of the piece.

Social awkwardness, sleep issues, miss-guided therapists, etc., all of those things should of defined what the poem/song was gonna be about, not the other way around. You made the topic ... the topic. I feel like you should of made the form the topic. If you catch my drift?

Last edited by AngryGoldfish at Jul 3, 2010,
#3
Exactly, precisley angry goldfish. That first verse is a duzy. Had my attention. Keep the first verse and rewrite the rest. You have tallent, use it.

Take care,
jody
#4
First off, thanks for your time and crit.

So your right, like usual I start good, get side tracked and fall apart. Think I got bitter a these docs and turned it into a jab at em.

So today I kept the first verse and tried writing about me, and recent events not even hollywood could conjure.

I guess its still mostly a rant without much poetic construction, but I try.
#5
i pretty much feel the opposite of what has been said about this.

i thought the first stanza was the weakest of this.
the cooking metaphor made it feel a bit cheap and you didnt hark back to it enough through out the piece to warrant it (not that you even should really. recipes for human personalities have been done to death...boom boom)
its inclusion felt almost like you needed any old metaphor or some kind of conciet to make what you were saying into an "authentic" poem.

you dont need a hook or an angle if you have a story to tell.
this is so different to other pieces on here about the writers troubled lives, in that i think its the first one i've read that doesnt come across as whiny, or self pitying (or aggrandising)and especially not overtly attention seeking. you have your story and you seem to be just telling it.

big up for that.
--------------------i'm definitely the alphaest male here--------------------
#6
Thanks. Im gonna guess you didnt read the original, all of which was erased except for that first part, and your right its not at connected, as I actually wrote a new piece overtop of the old one and tried to forge them by using that verse kinda like an egg in that the following hatched from that shell of "mental problems" that came to be at a young age.

and your right, at the end I felt like it was another mash of words on paper and tried to make a connection through it all with some meaningful ending, when the truth is (again your right) I was just telling a story most likely cause its been surfacing and needed to get out somehow.

one day I will write something that reaches the level of creative writing you and some others here never fall below, at least once.