Write Me A Poem (II): Smoking Fag

write me a poem about drug abuse
lace it with a tale, a moral or something
tell me how to quit, oh muse!

i started with an inhalation of a friend's puff,
a dose of pressure from my pears,
straws of depression and unknown fears,
pockets of abuse and vengeance for bullies

and I took a stick of cigar
with trembling fingers,
he pulled the lighter's trigger
and shot the bullet of fire
that earned me the name 'smoking fag'

i'm starting to become a piece of my pipe,
when I light the tip and I start to hit,
I become the brownness and the white,
of my favorite cigar.

one wrap of weed
perhaps heaven I'll see,
so light it up over a beer mug,
the fire hits it's white exterior
pushing right through my nostrils into my longing lungs

the smoke comes out
with the haste of trapped renal gas
as I lift my face to heaven
and puff the most high my burnt offering

i now dance to a cacophony of power generators
and see valleys on mountain tops

pray tell, how do I get out
and how did I get here?
never did I think I would be the person I am today
left with all this hurt and pain.

i want to quit!

#WriteMeAPoem
#Pengician #SSA

Comments

Fiction | The Tripod Effect

THE TRIPOD EFFECT The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the surrogate father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, "I'm off. The man should be here soon" Half an hour later, just by chance a door- to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. "Good morning, madam. I've come to...." "Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Smith cut in. "Really?" the photographer asked. "Well, good. I've made a speciality of babies" "That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat" After a moment, she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?" "Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out!" "Bathtub, living room floo...

Letter To My Son

Dear Son Try to forget that nothing waits in the dark, raise your shoulder high wave off the frea and step into that lane. Won't you rather be gone in there than stay out here playing the coward? Get up now, son everyone falls. #Pengician #SSA http://bit.ly/2haEhoj

Celebrating the “father of modern African literature”: Chinua Achebe

Today I join Google to celebrate Chinua Achebe's 87th birthday. Chinua is the father of modern African literature who with literature has touched many lives. Chinua Achebe was one of the greatest African writers of his generation. On what would have been his 87th birthday if he was alive, Google is paying its respects to Chinua Achebe on its homepage. Go to Google.com to view the doddle. Unarguably, Achebe’s influence on African literature is inestimable. He’s widely known to be the “father of modern African literature” with novels which projected Nigerian and African culture globally at a time when much of the continent was freshly free from the chains of colonialism. Chinua Achebe passed away March 2013 in the United States of America at the age of 82. The literary icon's journey to literary greatness started with ' Things Fall Apart ', which was his first book. It was released nearly 60 years ago in 1958 and regarded as one of the most widely read books in Africa. ...

Jaachi Writes

Search This Blog