my love, the alcohol,
bringing me to worlds I call my own;
where I am roving Mars
marked with your name
on every inch of skin.
where, fighting is distorted,
down the beer bottle;
and stored forever dry.
where laughter is restored
in our paralyzed brains.
my darling, the joint,
smoking you through your
mouth, and into my lips.
life becomes surreal;
your presence everywhere.
but, when the hangover comes,
you’ve pinned into nausea;
and the battles are realesed
from my stomach. and still,
you’re the only drink I’ll ever need.
A contest entry
- Love [not a cliche contest] QUICKIE by Tangled Angle.
300 points, ended June 16, 2007, 6 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Golden Gallant - Pre-writes for Gold Brilliance by Namita.
300 points, ended August 4, 2007, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Shoot.
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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Wowwing job. Great piece. Congrats on teh gold.
Luv,
Candy
Contest Holder
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wow!
truly amazing... wonderful imagery and comparison...
brilliant metaphor!
this piece is absolutely stunning!
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whoa.. this is utterly amazing ryan!
Joints.. argh.. bad but oh so good =]
xoxo
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Thank-you mmhmm, good think I never got into them
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Very Nice
HaHa! I gotten a bad handover from a joint one time the very first time I ever smoked one oyyyyyyy it was painful but oh well. any ways this is just a verty cleverly penned popem and a very good flow and depth to it. nice work here bro and best of luck to ya again
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thanks
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Wow.
This was really profound, and seemed so genuine, and real. You carried out the metaphor well and the imagery wasn't bad at all.
I've enjoyed this one the most so far. Good luck to you. -
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thank-you have fun judging 
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