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Array ( [sid] => 175688 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => well-fed hunger [time] => 2013-04-08 02:00:22 [hometext] => I'm pretty sure I wrote this in 1997. Usually i'm fastidious about that type of thing....this one is also the lyrics to a beautiful guitar part played by my friend, Harley. [bodytext] => well-fed hunger (1997)
______________________

I feel the numbness fading as the hurt becomes my friend,
my ever-present shadowed echo chasing my future to the end.
it's all real as real can be, a mockery made to pretend,
and all the roads are beaten paths that beat those who defend.

so with mask in place i join the ranks of faces without eyes.
i must not show that yes, i know the backwards truths are lies
the hope is dead. the soul is sold. hate feed on the flies.
the object of your hatred is your thin, hand-made disguise.

i can't sleep for fear of dreaming, so the night is just more day.
starving with gold in my pocket and a deaf god to whom i pray.
trapped upside-down and backwards in a fun-house mirror maze...
a maze of hazy days so gray, i pray the Crazy stays away.

JD Howell [comments] => 1 [counter] => 138 [topic] => 66 [informant] => Jigget [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => drugabuse )

well-fed hunger

Contributed by Jigget on Monday, 8th April 2013 @ 02:00:22 AM in AEST
Topic: drugabuse

well-fed hunger (1997)
______________________

I feel the numbness fading as the hurt becomes my friend,
my ever-present shadowed echo chasing my future to the end.
it's all real as real can be, a mockery made to pretend,
and all the roads are beaten paths that beat those who defend.

so with mask in place i join the ranks of faces without eyes.
i must not show that yes, i know the backwards truths are lies
the hope is dead. the soul is sold. hate feed on the flies.
the object of your hatred is your thin, hand-made disguise.

i can't sleep for fear of dreaming, so the night is just more day.
starving with gold in my pocket and a deaf god to whom i pray.
trapped upside-down and backwards in a fun-house mirror maze...
a maze of hazy days so gray, i pray the Crazy stays away.

JD Howell

Copyright © Jigget ... [ 2013-04-08 02:00:22]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: well-fed hunger (User Rating: 1 )
by Invierno on Saturday, 17th May 2014 @ 08:59:39 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Man, it's bonkers there is no comment to this piece. Perhaps this site is not riddled with addicts? Har-dee-har har.

Excellent turns here....appreciating what you've done and what you drew out of me in this read. (btw, you're poems are, as you suggest, best read aloud...same with mine).

I don't celebrate my problems...I don't think we're members of some cool club. It sucks for both of us, and I wish I didn't carry this burden....the truth is, JD, that I don't know who I would be without my addiction(s)....there is no memory of a healthy Michael...an unpolluted version of me. Now that REALLY sucks, as I read my words as typed.

Anyway, as before, most excellent and disconcerting to read. I like disconcerting- not everything is smiles and hugs and cuddly boo-boo.

Best,

Invierno

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