Wretched the poor,
the vermin and the parasites,
the ruined humans
in dilapidated houses
clinging
to the edge of being wood.
In foul existence,
and maggot numbers
they are carrying the fever of being nought
for none.
Yet in every opioid pair of eyes
in every pinprick pupil burns a past
of bright-eyed childhood.
Margret gives us pictures at toads to use as springboard for poetry. I have stolen some words from Bleak House… (the description of Tom-all-Alone’s).
—
October 26, 2017
rejuvenatement - not retirement
words and scribble.
The Quantumverse
Poetry
About fantastical places and other stuff
Sharing my thoughts, poems, travel & art
Taotalk is a forum for the discussion of both the academic and pragmatic aspects of dao and Daoism, with participants expressing themselves on Daoist writings and pragmatics from their unique perspectives. It serves as a community for Daoists, and those interested in Daoism, to gather and talk dao.
living on the equator but longing for snow
Passion for writing ignites my soul's momentum
Clever write, but seriously raw and viscerally depressing, which suits the subject, of course
Actually some of Dickens’ writing has that power I think.
Indeed
This is outstanding, from title to close.
You’re so right. It’s gross to be clingy and needy and on drugs. I am totally one of these bright-eyed madhouse kids wishing she could fit in with society but knowing she just can’t. Still, some of those people are pretty fucking interesting …
Some of the images from London in the 19th century seems to be very modern again
Opium was as much a plague in Victorian England as it is today. Too easy for people to get lost in addiction. An excellent albeit depressing write.
Opioid addiction is a hot button right now, here at least. Sad to think of that childhood and all that might have been.
brilliant write…a powerful reminder of the humanity of the so-called “dregs of society”.
Excellent Björn, the last lines
‘in every pinprick pupil burns a past
of bright-eyed childhood’………great lines.
Oh it takes a wise and compassionate heart to see the eyes of that once bright-eyed child in the addict. Well done, Bjorn. This one really hits my heart.
heart wrenching –
I like the way the poem turns after the longer stanza, Bjorn, giving some comfort. But oh, those opioid eyes!
One minor thing, the plural of vermin is vermin.
Thank you… that needs correcting 🙂
Very powerful. The short stanza is chilling and deeply meaningful.
namaste
JzB
Oh this brings home the agony of addiction. It is hell for the addicted and hell for those who must watch… It is a community of broken.
So true and so sad. You nailed this so well, and succinctly.
Ah, so true … so sad and true … that thought often comes to mind as we drive through Vancouver’s east end. In August, of this year, we had 113 suspected drug overdose deaths – up 79% from the same period last year – and rising.
So sad such a squalid present and future. A disgusting one. But the past is clear and bright despite eyes that are drugged and seeing things, avoiding the real, The here and now for the goodness that once was.
Well written 🙂
All too true.