Rockstar

[Universalchild]

Weeks of chemical abuse leave his dull mind stale,
reflection reveals dark eyes sunken, skin turned pale,
the kind of face both child-like and yet so very old,
clothes are torn and dirty, flesh is wet and cold.

Shaking, clutching his smoke, his cancerous crutch,
harmless in his sadness and so gentle in his touch,
but nobody can see him for he is the urban ghost,
blinded by the acrid fumes to which he is engrossed.

Homeless thus forever lost, his poverty sincere,
fear drives him to seek solace, his new motive is clear,
but crack inside his pipe becomes the cracks inside his mind,
and it cracks in the foundations of the life he left behind.

Life a nightmare endless, but he begins to form a dream,
swirling dust, cardinal paint, some strange metallic gleam,
these hidden dirty memories of what was once his home,
remind him why he must be free and ever must he roam.

Perhaps he once was clever, for his words are full of jargon,
talks in hopes of pennies, which with crystals he will bargain,
then huddles in amongst the filth and wraps himself in lies,
surrounded by a cloud of smoke in which his spirit flies.

[addy]

Welcome to the forum universalchild

Okay, general comments. I like that there's a core to this, and you seem very clear on what you're trying to express here. However, to me it reads like you're forcing rhymes in lots of places, and the meter doesn't quite hold up consistently (read it out to yourself and you'll hear it). I'll point out an example below so you'll get the idea, but I don't want to overwhelm you. I'll also make a few comments on the content, just something to think about.

Hope to see more from you

Weeks of chemical abuse leave his dull mind stale,
reflection reveals dark eyes sunken, skin turned pale, Since the POV is already observing this man directly throughout the poem, perhaps it is not necessary to describe him through his reflection. Just my take though, and a tiny nit
the kind of face both child-like and yet so very old,
clothes are torn and dirty, flesh is wet and cold. why is he particularly wet? Was it raining?

Shaking, clutching his smoke, his cancerous crutch,
harmless in his sadness and so gentle in his touch,
but nobody can see him for he is the urban ghost,
blinded by the acrid fumes to which he is engrossed.

Homeless thus forever lost, his poverty sincere,
fear drives him to seek solace, his new motive is clear, The cadence of "his new motive..." is different
but crack inside his pipe becomes the cracks inside his mind,
and it cracks in the foundations of the life he left behind. It might not be to everyone's taste because of its directness, but I rather like this line

Life a nightmare endless, but he begins to form a dream,
swirling dust, cardinal paint, some strange metallic gleam,
these hidden dirty memories of what was once his home,
remind him why he must be free and ever must he roam. Not sure if the inconsistent old english syntax works for you, as they seem randomly inserted and thus forced: "life a nightmare endless...", "... ever he must roam". Just my take though

Perhaps he once was clever, for his words are full of jargon,
talks in hopes of pennies, which with crystals he will bargain,
then huddles in amongst the filth and wraps himself in lies,
surrounded by a cloud of smoke in which his spirit flies. This line makes me rethink your poem. Can his spirit really fly if his mind is dull and stale?You appear to be making this point, but this is (I think) the only line in the poem where you inserted any glimmer of hope and ascendancy in his situation

[billy]

Weeks of chemical abuse leave his dull mind stale, weeks? (is the time relevant, if so why not months or years?
reflection reveals dark eyes sunken, skin turned pale, i like the "reflection" in conjunction with star
the kind of face both child-like and yet so very old, why not just "a face..."
clothes are torn and dirty, flesh is wet and cold. too generic

Shaking, clutching his smoke, his cancerous crutch,
harmless in his sadness and so gentle in his touch,
but nobody can see him for he is the urban ghost,
blinded by the acrid fumes to which he is engrossed.

Homeless thus forever lost, his poverty sincere,
fear drives him to seek solace, his new motive is clear,
but crack inside his pipe becomes the cracks inside his mind,
and it cracks in the foundations of the life he left behind.

Life a nightmare endless, but he begins to form a dream,
swirling dust, cardinal paint, some strange metallic gleam,
these hidden dirty memories of what was once his home,
remind him why he must be free and ever must he roam.

Perhaps he once was clever, for his words are full of jargon,
talks in hopes of pennies, which with crystals he will bargain,
then huddles in amongst the filth and wraps himself in lies,
surrounded by a cloud of smoke in which his spirit flies.

there's flashes of really good in there universal; showing poverty can be about something other than a lack of wealth, though he also sounds poor . (wasn't enamoured by 'thus' in the same line though. it does remind me a little of ozzy osbourne but more of that type of essence needs to be captured. i can see some of the rock star has-been attributes in there but they need to be more image based. at present were being told the story. show us the story if you can.
thanks for the read

[Wildcard]

I thought this a good piece, but I'll be honest the rhymes scheme is weak.

Jargon doesn't rhyme with bargain
Ghost doesn't rhyme with engrossed

It could be viewed as a matter of personal taste, of course, but I would prefer that all the rhymes ring true.

As far as the content, I loved the broken-down feel of the piece as well as

but crack inside his pipe becomes the cracks inside his mind,
and it cracks in the foundations of the life he left behind.

Quite an interesting line and good internal rhymes.

Thanks for sharing.

[Universalchild]

Thanks guys! Really appreciate the comments.

@Addy

I understand your point about P.O.V and if I come up with something better I will do. Any suggestions?
And have you ever worked with homeless people? It's a wet world outside. Damp clothes. Especially as I live in the UK, which is a wet, cold country.

Thanks for pointing out cadence change, I thought something was up in that line. I'll try and get on it. I'm not great at editting my own poetry if it's a new write! Old writes I find easy. Suggestions are therefore loved.

I know it's old english syntax, but it is in my writing. I'll be honest, as I say to everyone who points it out, I don't do it on purpose, it's just because I'm odd. It's like I'm sometimes possessed by an old writer! If it's really that disruptive, I'll try harder to moniter myself to prevent it from happening, but I've always thought it was just a bit quirky/eccentric and essentially harmless. But then, my misperception is why I'm bringing my poetry here!

Ahh, I'm going to assume you've never smoked crack. Well, me neither, but pretty damn close, you know. By spirit flies, I'm actually referring to the hit from a crack pipe. It is meant to sound optimistic though, because I'm trying to express to you how it feels to be high like that. Real escapism. Thus the "lies".

@billy

Do you know what... I really don't know why I picked weeks. I think when I started the poem, I was going to make it about someone who has only just started smoking crack. But then he evolved into a long-term crack addict. I might change it to years. Suits him more.

That clothes/flesh line is generic and boring. Any suggestions? I want to convey his general appearance of disrepair.

Ahh everybody hates thus! oh wai. I love the word, I think it should be used more often in modern english. I think I secretly hope one day if I use it enough, it'll make a comeback.

Oh, the title was just me trying to be clever :v He's not really a rockstar. I was playing on the conventional idea of a has-been rockstar becoming a junkie, and the fact "rock" is common slang for crack. He's a crackstar really. King of the crack. I do want to take your advice on more imagery less story, though. I will do.

@Mark

Shh, of course they rhyme! : P What ever do you mean.

Haha, I'm not bothered, I don't mind weak rhymes. Also, I'm very good at making things rhyme when saying them out loud by making both words conform to each other a little bit. And for me, poetry is all about the readings. If I can conjure up a better rhyme for them, I will do, but I go on and off rhymes a lot. I'm going through a really bad habit at the moment of forcing poems to rhyme.

Thanks a lot!

[addy]

Thanks guys! Really appreciate the comments.

@Addy

I understand your point about P.O.V and if I come up with something better I will do. Any suggestions?
Your POV is fine, I was just commenting on that one single line. You are already looking at the man directly, POV-wise, so my thinking is you don't need to describe him through his reflection. Just a small nit on my part

And have you ever worked with homeless people? It's a wet world outside. Damp clothes. Especially as I live in the UK, which is a wet, cold country.
I keep forgetting things are very different around here. I live in a hot country, so homeless people exposed to the elements on a regular day are often dusty/grimy rather than wet. My reading was affected by my own context


Thanks for pointing out cadence change, I thought something was up in that line. I'll try and get on it. I'm not great at editting my own poetry if it's a new write! Old writes I find easy. Suggestions are therefore loved.

I know it's old english syntax, but it is in my writing. I'll be honest, as I say to everyone who points it out, I don't do it on purpose, it's just because I'm odd. It's like I'm sometimes possessed by an old writer! If it's really that disruptive, I'll try harder to moniter myself to prevent it from happening, but I've always thought it was just a bit quirky/eccentric and essentially harmless. But then, my misperception is why I'm bringing my poetry here!

It wouldn't stick out much for me if the syntax was used consistently, but it isn't. It comes and goes throughout the poem, so the lingual style changes throughout the poem for no discernible reason. If its a lingual quirk you really wish to keep, then just try to maintain that voice throughout


Ahh, I'm going to assume you've never smoked crack. Well, me neither, but pretty damn close, you know. By spirit flies, I'm actually referring to the hit from a crack pipe. It is meant to sound optimistic though, because I'm trying to express to you how it feels to be high like that. Real escapism. Thus the "lies".

You're right, I never smoked crack . But I have consumed enough pop culture to know about drug highs, so I understood your reference perfectly. So I knew what you were saying, just that I was trying to discern why you were saying it... what is the intent, by ending on that note? If the line is supposed make the reader appreciate the man's addiction as a strange form of nirvana (spirit flies), where for him it is a freedom and not a curse, is it supposed to be a feel-good ending? Or maybe it's bitterly ironic, given the somber tone of everything else that came ahead of that last line? Don't mind me, this is just my reader response .... I'm just telling you the message I got from the poem as a reader, just so you can gauge if that's really the reaction you wanted to elicit or if you meant an entirely different message altogether

[billy]

instead of weeks you could just start with;
an age of chem....

or

chemical abuse lea.....

i note the wet weather remark we live in the philippines which is monsoon season twice a year, if we're not wet from rain we're wet from humidity. that said, even the homeless sleep under cover when they can. (doorways etc)

the syntax archaic thing; it's common in many peoples poetry for a while and after enough people have mentioned it enough times they begin to think it's only right when used properly; ie, in a period poem, in a consistent way that left no doubt it was done with a purpose.
the clothes line (pun intended )

clothes are torn and dirty, flesh is wet and cold (if he's indigent, it's a given he'll be open to the elements (rain) at some time or other....unless he lives in a desert country...we can't see it's the uk from the text we can't assume the reader knows something we haven't mentioned.

sallow flesh and clothes merge into dirt-grained grey

now it's been mentioned (the title) i like how it works but unless you told me i'd have always felt it was about a fallen rockstar

considering this is mild critique forum. you took the feedback well. try and get rid of bad habits (the ones you do without knowing or the ones you think are quirky and eccentric :hysterical and if you're brave enough use what can from what you get to do an edit.

ps, jump in on some of the poetry discussion threads, ask questions post question, you'll be surprised at some of the replies. (a few of the site animals have something solid to give when it comes to learning how to write poetry (i'm definitely not one of them )

[Universalchild]

@addy

I will see about editting it, and will try to figure out my syntax! Haha.

The ending is meant to be taken one of two ways... Depending on the reader, I guess. On the one hand, his drug-use is slowly destroying him, however, it is all he has, and it makes him happy, for what it is worth. He has become a shadow of a person, but considering his background, there was not much "person" to begin with. Drugs help him escape from his very unhappy life. It is very sad, but we all have this pretense that we know how life should be lived. Don't do drugs, don't sleep around, get a good career, buy a house, have two kids, get married. In reality, it's all nonsense. Happiness is relative. Life is short and hard, so you may as well just enjoy it. If enjoying life means killing yourself (and we're all going to die anyway) through drug abuse, whether alcohol, tobaccoo or illegal... Why not? It's socially acceptable to slowly kill yourself by an unhealthy life of fast food and no exercize. But then, maybe we should all be trying to live full, long, healthy and productive lives, regardless of happiness! Ahh, so much moral confusion.

Sorry for the big reply @_@ Turns out my head is full of words.

@billy

I shall get round to an edit at some point!

Yeah it's been raining for days :c And it's summer. Poopy cold weather.

I will try harder to notice when I make syntax mistakes. Maybe I should write some period poetry and get it out of my system!

I will make an attempt to shed bad habits.

However, I do like having... things... which are not universally understandable, like "Rockstar" - I do it frequently in poetry, normally things you wouldn't even notice. Like in one poem, I have a line saying "my cosmos" with "my co/smos" - myco being greek for fungus, so twisting it into being mushroomcosmos xD Nobody will ever get it, ever. But I do! And it makes sense in the poem.

[billy]

being experimental can be fun and it's amust that you/we try and find our own voice (if there is such a thing ) and you'll be surprised what clever bastards some of us can be

[Indie]

Weeks of chemical abuse leave his dull mind stale, (IMO "dull" can be taken out as it mirrors stale, I don't think it helps in the description)
reflection reveals dark eyes sunken, skin turned pale,
the kind of face both child-like and yet so very old, [b](a face both child-like and yet so very old)
clothes are torn and dirty, flesh is wet and cold. (can get away with removing "and" and "is" for flow IMO)

Shaking, clutching his smoke, his cancerous crutch,
harmless in his sadness and so gentle in his touch,
but nobody can see him for he is the urban ghost,
blinded by the acrid fumes to which he is engrossed. (like this verse )

Homeless thus forever lost, his poverty sincere, (IMO "thus" doesn't work in this line)
fear drives him to seek solace, his new motive is clear,
but crack inside his pipe becomes the cracks inside his mind, (the flow of this line is off)
and it cracks in the foundations of the life he left behind. (used cracks three times in this verse, it's repetitive and not in a good way)

Life a nightmare endless, but he begins to form a dream, (endless nightmare)
swirling dust, cardinal paint, some strange metallic gleam,
these hidden dirty memories of what was once his home,
remind him why he must be free and ever must he roam.

Perhaps he once was clever, for his words are full of jargon,
talks in hopes of pennies, which with crystals he will bargain,
then huddles in amongst the filth and wraps himself in lies,
surrounded by a cloud of smoke in which his spirit flies.

And I'm going to stop there for now, before I go over the recommendations for mild crit, lol. Hope this helps. This poem is very interesting, and I like most of what I see. Just needs some tightening up

Peace, Indie

[Erthona]

Hey Fay Ray,

I don't know, an obviously sympathetic look at a crack addict will have trouble getting traction with most people. It's hard to swallow seeing him as a total victim of the drug, especially when people know the damage that addiction causes others besides the addict.

for he is the urban ghost, He is the only one? Or are you trying to generalize him as the epitome of "the urban ghost"?
Besides a tendency for wordiness throughout, I don't find much too terribly wrong with your execution, and what there is everyone else has chewed over pretty well. I just think this is a hard sell, glossing over certain realities of addiction. I think to do so sets the poem up to be perceived as naive.

Dale

[Universalchild]

Hey Dale, lookie me I'm posting here woo.

Well, I know what I know, you know what you know, and all we have is our experiences to go on, so I can't really argue with you, but I just feel very differently to most people when it comes to drug addiction. I don't mean to sound like a cocky youth (: p) but I really don't give a toss about peoples unsympathic attitudes, because I feel sympathy and love for everyone and I have a poor tolerance for people who take a judgmental stance on such issues. Maybe I am incredibly naive but I call it compassion. That asides, you'd be surprised, this poem was far better recieved then I expected (I actually thought most people would feel difficult about it) ~

I'm generalizing him. I'll get round to editting it at some point and tighten it up.

It's not like I'm suggesting all crack-addicts are harmless street youths, but to be honest I think I probably know just as much as anyone about young drug addicts considering my job involves working with them. I have an endless and undying sympathy for all of societies outcasts and demons. I'm trying to change peoples attitudes with my poetry. I have a strong stance around that.

[billy]

subject matter in general should never be a problem and most here take poetry for what it is, while things like child porn are often viewed as taboo, drug poetry is okay (my thoughts)

the attitudes thing, it's what gives us our points of view. it's the basis of feedback, i've been around drugs most of my life and i have little but contempt for most users. so a kind poem about rockheads feels like an oxymoron. i like drug poetry to be as hard and harsh as it is in life. i'm not taking sides here or sticking up for any one, i'm on about this particular poem. while i enjoyed it, i didn't quite get the feel of someone who abuses their body by using rock/crack etc. i didn't feels their veins splitting.

[Erthona]

Fay Ray,

I think an approach to this might be to personalize him, make him an individual, give him a name, that way he does not represent "all" addicts.

I think some of the harshness comes because there are those who love the addict, and he/she will promise never to do (whatever) again, then of course they do, repeatedly. Eventually people get burnt out, because they fell as though they have been betrayed over and over again, as well as feeling used, and condescended to by the addict. And this is if nothing really major occurs. Some times it takes awhile for people to get burnt out, maybe 10 or 20 years, but it eventually happens. It doesn't surprise me that younger people would accept this, because they haven't gone through...yet...all the things that people who have had to live longer with this have.

I think one of the things (and I mean if you are going to have success in this endeavor) you need to comprehend is that these people who seem uncompassionate at one time were very much that way, and maybe saw the person very much in the way you are portraying. The question is, what are you going to do to help them overcome all of those years of resentment, and built up feelings of hurt and betrayal. I don't think you do it by showing them a picture that denies their experience.
Really to me, this is the same as trying to get a former girlfriend to feel sorry for a former boyfriend who cheated on on, stole from her, lied to her, hit her and raped her, to feel compassion because he had/has severe depression that he did not know how to deal with, and how terrible it has been for him. That might work on some girl who doesn't really know him, or such things have not happened to, but it is going to be a hard sell for those who have. Plus, I'm not sure it is even a good thing. People sometimes need a little less compassion to protect them from such a predator. And that is what the addict is, because the disease is in charge. If you said an addiction demon had possessed his body, if would be a fairly accurate description. Certainly the original personality is no longer in charge, nor do whatever feelings or morals he had come into play any more. I'm fairly certain compassion would not even be beneficial for the addict, certainly not an outward display.

Just my take,

Dale

PS I posted a poem I wrote about getting burnt out on a person in case you want to look at it. It is here http://pigpenpoetry.com/showthread.php?tid=6230

It's called "A Deeper Cut" It is fairly long If you wish to comment on things of need of editing that's fine also. It's an older piece and I have not looked at it in awhile (read 8 years)!

[addy]

I think Dale's comment nails it. We know from the title that he is a faded rockstar / celebrity, but other than generic broadstrokes we don't get too many intimate glimpses of who he is or what he thinks about (the dream part comes close, but not quite). He is a songwriter after all, and you are right that he must be a fascinating soul

[Universalchild]

@Billy

Well, crack doesn't really involve veins splitting. Asides from being very thin and ill-looking, you wouldn't really be able to spot a crack addict in a crowd. And lots of homeless people look thin and ill so that isn't really a great one to go on. Really, the physical body abuse of drug use is a moot point. You could argue it is no different to people drinking alcohol or smoking tobacco (both of which are physically more harmful then most illegal drugs) - the reason crack is such a negative drug is because of the psychological effects, which my poem does dip into a little bit.




@Dale

I don't really see how I can personalize him without losing the effect. He is meant to be vague and shadow-like. I'm up for suggestions though.

Okay, sorry but I completely disagree. I don't think drug abuse/addiction is comparable to rape and domestic abuse. I also think you should always be compassionate and understanding. I understand that you/others have had bad experiences, but my experiences have been hugely different from yours. I know that drug addiction doesn't strip someone of their personality and morals/feelings. I'm offended, after all I smoke cigarettes! Why are my addictions okay and not other peoples? My nan is an alcoholic, but she still feels emotions and she still has morals. One of my best friends is a drug addict, but she'll fall over herself to do something for you. My brothers sister was addicted to anti-depressants. Most of my friends during college were habitual marajuana smokers. My auntie is over-weight and can't stop herself eating.

Lots of people have addictions. They don't make you into monsters. It is far more complicated then that.

I have been used and abused by various people throughout my life, but I still feel compassion, even to those who have done me great harm. Forgiveness releases yourself as well as the person in question. I understand that not everyone can easily feel the way I do, but negative emotions are a burden.

I do appreciate your comments and I get where you come from, but I just have a very different opinion to you on this matter. I mean, maybe in ten years I'll have changed, but I'd be very surprised. I don't think this is an issue of me being a naive youth so much as having had very different experiences, and having a generally different way of viewing people. I'm not exactly as pure in my open-mindedness as I'd like to be, for instance I really struggle to sympathize with the very wealthy, and most politicians.

I shall read your poem and give some feedback : P

@addy

Well, he isn't really a faded rockstar, that was just a play on words as rock is street for crack - although I did want to have the imagery that comes with it. He's just a homeless young man from a negectful/abusive past who escapes from his troubles by smoking crack. I don't really understand what more you'd need to know, but I'm open to suggestions!

[tectak]

@addy

I will see about editting it, and will try to figure out my syntax! Haha.

The ending is meant to be taken one of two ways... Depending on the reader, I guess. On the one hand, his drug-use is slowly destroying him, however, it is all he has, and it makes him happy, for what it is worth. He has become a shadow of a person, but considering his background, there was not much "person" to begin with. Drugs help him escape from his very unhappy life. It is very sad, but we all have this pretense that we know how life should be lived. Don't do drugs, don't sleep around, get a good career, buy a house, have two kids, get married. In reality, it's all nonsense. Happiness is relative. Life is short and hard, so you may as well just enjoy it. If enjoying life means killing yourself (and we're all going to die anyway) through drug abuse, whether alcohol, tobaccoo or illegal... Why not? It's socially acceptable to slowly kill yourself by an unhealthy life of fast food and no exercize. But then, maybe we should all be trying to live full, long, healthy and productive lives, regardless of happiness! Ahh, so much moral confusion.

Sorry for the big reply @_@ Turns out my head is full of words.

@billy

I shall get round to an edit at some point!

Yeah it's been raining for days :c And it's summer. Poopy cold weather.

I will try harder to notice when I make syntax mistakes. Maybe I should write some period poetry and get it out of my system!

I will make an attempt to shed bad habits.

However, I do like having... things... which are not universally understandable, like "Rockstar" - I do it frequently in poetry, normally things you wouldn't even notice. Like in one poem, I have a line saying "my cosmos" with "my co/smos" - myco being greek for fungus, so twisting it into being mushroomcosmos xD Nobody will ever get it, ever. But I do! And it makes sense in the poem.

I'm a mycologist......I don't get it. What is a smos?
best,
tectak

[Universalchild]

I'd be really impressed if you did get it, considering I haven't posted that poem here yet. But are you really a mycologist? That is wicked, I would love to go into mycology, but it's incredibly difficult to find a university which actually has courses that touch upon it. Where did you study? I was contemplating doing a bio-science degree in plants because you can do modules on fungus, because I can't find any specialist courses in the Uk. I would study abroad though. Anyway, asides from that, the poem is about tripping on mushrooms, so it's just a word mash of myco and cosmos done purely for my own amusement.

[billy]

@Billy

Well, crack doesn't really involve veins splitting. Asides from being very thin and ill-looking, you wouldn't really be able to spot a crack addict in a crowd. And lots of homeless people look thin and ill so that isn't really a great one to go on. Really, the physical body abuse of drug use is a moot point. You could argue it is no different to people drinking alcohol or smoking tobacco (both of which are physically more harmful then most illegal drugs) - the reason crack is such a negative drug is because of the psychological effects, which my poem does dip into a little bit.

crack is also injected by many, they dissolve it in lemon or vinigar before jacking up but when i said their veins split i meant it metaphorically, their blood pumps round them so fast their hearts feels like kettle drums specially on that first hit before it subsides into the haze. crack is stimulant and as such has certain effects on the body. as for spotting a crack head...you're wrong i'd spot one in an instant. i lived with the shit and all that goes with it. a crack addict is not like someone who drinks. maybe a little like an alcoholic but not much, both side effects are not the same. both euphoria is not the same. the tobacco analogy is also wrong, any smoke going into the lungs eventually kills you smoking is a lot safer than being an habitual crack head. the funny thing is, it's easier to stop using crack or coke in any form without the withdrawral symptoms you'd get for a drug like heroin.

there are societal effects as well as physical and psychological ones. i had two massive heart attacks from using too much coke, not crack mind you which is a more powerful form of coke. so have many others. the poem touched on a minutia of the crack problems relating to crackheads and the product. it never mentioned a most obvious side effect; paranoia, it had no mention of coke mite. (imaginary bugs that infest the body) it never really spoke about the core value of the subject. what it looked like how it was used and abused, how it made a person cry while they waited it for it to rock up. the sense of euphoria the binges without food or sleep. the arguments with others and a failed sense of reality. the poem had none of these things.

[tectak]

I'd be really impressed if you did get it, considering I haven't posted that poem here yet. But are you really a mycologist? That is wicked, I would love to go into mycology, but it's incredibly difficult to find a university which actually has courses that touch upon it. Where did you study? I was contemplating doing a bio-science degree in plants because you can do modules on fungus, because I can't find any specialist courses in the Uk. I would study abroad though. Anyway, asides from that, the poem is about tripping on mushrooms, so it's just a word mash of myco and cosmos done purely for my own amusement.

In order:
I didn't really find anything to "get" because, as you pointed out, I have not read the poem.....but please don't send me it as I have read more than my share of great poetry written (not read) whilst "tripping" (how very retro) on everything from Amanita muscaria pedicle in milk to Psilocybin semilanceata on rye bread.
I am a "field" mycologist. We do the groundwork. Foraying and recording finds after painstaking identification. Mycology is a neglected field. You would find it very difficult to enrol on a course in the UK (or anywhere else for that matter) but to become a competant field mycologist you need to get out there with others of a similar leaning, buy the books, invest in a good microscope and be prepared to to fail more often than you succeed and to be wrong more often than you are right.....oh, and start when you are at the most ten. With a few years off for puberty you should still be able to get in enough hours between "tripping", shagging, writing and earning a living.
After several decades you will be able to pigeon-hole your life in such a way that everything you do gives a modicom of pleasure. Later, I can confirm, mycology and writing become favoured, though I hope I am never amused by combining mycology and cosmos in a semantic fashion. If that should happen I would go back to hang-gliding!
Move this thread to Discussion if you choose to continue the discourse.
Best,
tectak
PS We are Vice County 66 and records are on CATE2. Just google.

---

@Billy

Well, crack doesn't really involve veins splitting. Asides from being very thin and ill-looking, you wouldn't really be able to spot a crack addict in a crowd. And lots of homeless people look thin and ill so that isn't really a great one to go on. Really, the physical body abuse of drug use is a moot point. You could argue it is no different to people drinking alcohol or smoking tobacco (both of which are physically more harmful then most illegal drugs) - the reason crack is such a negative drug is because of the psychological effects, which my poem does dip into a little bit.

crack is also injected by many, they dissolve it in lemon or vinigar before jacking up but when i said their veins split i meant it metaphorically, their blood pumps round them so fast their hearts feels like kettle drums specially on that first hit before it subsides into the haze. crack is stimulant and as such has certain effects on the body. as for spotting a crack head...you're wrong i'd spot one in an instant. i lived with the shit and all that goes with it. a crack addict is not like someone who drinks. maybe a little like an alcoholic but not much, both side effects are not the same. both euphoria is not the same. the tobacco analogy is also wrong, any smoke going into the lungs eventually kills you smoking is a lot safer than being an habitual crack head. the funny thing is, it's easier to stop using crack or coke in any form without the withdrawral symptoms you'd get for a drug like heroin.

there are societal effects as well as physical and psychological ones. i had two massive heart attacks from using too much coke, not crack mind you which is a more powerful form of coke. so have many others. the poem touched on a minutia of the crack problems relating to crackheads and the product. it never mentioned a most obvious side effect; paranoia, it had no mention of coke mite. (imaginary bugs that infest the body) it never really spoke about the core value of the subject. what it looked like how it was used and abused, how it made a person cry while they waited it for it to rock up. the sense of euphoria the binges without food or sleep. the arguments with others and a failed sense of reality. the poem had none of these things.

A moot reality check fom billy. All well said but perhaps better on Discussion Boards?
Best,
tectak