no need for steel scythe
now with blood-stained eraser
you smudge out young lives
(edited on 1st January 2016, because the word ‘ink’ no longer made sense to me!)
©Jane Paterson Basil
no need for steel scythe
now with blood-stained eraser
you smudge out young lives
(edited on 1st January 2016, because the word ‘ink’ no longer made sense to me!)
©Jane Paterson Basil
Random musings on life, society, and politics.
The pros, the cons, the ups and downs of disentangling from the web of social media
In the heart of Portugal
My view, tho' somewhat askew...
My Mormon Transgender Second Life
Creating Connection
Alternative haven for the Daily Post's mourners!
Where writers gather
Existential Poetry and Short Stories
Passion for writing ignites my soul's momentum
I feel the world and want to help heal the world.
Poems, poets, poetry, writing, poetry challenges
Tigers not daughters
Give A Voice to the Voiceless
A Collection of Blogs Written By Men & Women In Prison
Visit the darkest crevices of my mind, dare to tread where many fear to go. You may find something interesting or you may find a mirror to your soul.
poetry, poems, stories, fiction, creative non fiction, essays, anger, angst, sometimes love,
Mental wanderings amongst stardust
I write to figure out what is left
An Old Plumber, An Ex-Carer, An Amateur Poet, Words From The Heart
Experiments in Creative Writing, and more ....
Because we all are...
Observations from the loose nut behind the wheel.
Looking for people to share the written word
Channeling my thoughts about the world outside, and inside, into prose and poetry
”Writing is nothing more than a guided dream” -Jorge Luis Borges
Aroused by Arête, a meditating logophile
Kickin' it behind the Eight ball
A painting a day, painting, drawing and discussions on art.
Reading + Writing = Devotion
a collection of words about my average, bog-standard life accompanied by some sub-par illustrations that depict selected moments in said life
The Secret of Change Is to Focus All of Your Energy, Not on Fighting the Old, But on Building the New - Socrates
Reflections... Past, Present, and Future
Exploring the spidery corners of a culture and the weird stuff that tourist brochures ignore.
Interesting… Pretty dark. What are you referring to about the ink stained eraser? Anything in particular?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Heroin erases your personality. The ink is the poison
I have an alternative version. I don’t know which works better. This is the other one:
no need for a steel scythe
now, smothering with feathers
you steal their young lives
Heroin makes people feel as it they’re wrapped in a warm, safe blanket.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your last statement is so right. Only it’s not a warm safe blanket. It’s an Iron Maiden.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re right, and maybe I should stop describing it in that way. It sounds too cosy.
LikeLike
It’s an awful, awful thing and something I’ve rarely been exposed to. I think that’s thanks to an experience I had when very young.
Dad was a youth worker and one of the young people he knew – a lad called Dickie – became a friend of the family. He’d carry me on his shoulders when I was small – so high up, scary and exciting.
I remember the day the two police officers came to the door – I guess my Dad was the closest he had to next of kin. They took their hats off – they were very serious. They told us Dickie had died – an overdose. I remember saying to my Mum ‘They’re lying aren’t they? Dickie’s not dead.’ My Mum was crying and then I knew the police men were telling the truth. I remember crying too then. He was a grown up playmate and he was gone.
Sorry. Don’t know why I felt the need to share that depressing tale. Thinking of a young life rubbed out. Apologies, Jane x
LikeLiked by 1 person
No need for apologies. It’s a terrible thing to lose an older friend who you look up to. It happened in our family, although it wasn’t an overdose, but it changed our lives forever. It was nineteen years ago.
To lose someone through overdose is all the more terrible.
You live in Bristol, and you don’t come across this? I know so many people who have moved there and come back addicted to heroin. Not all of them are https://widgets.wp.com/notifications/1983826866#alive now. One of them died just a couple of weeks ago. It’s heartbreaking. I am involved with other families of addicts. Death is always on the cards.
LikeLike
Yes, something I’ll never forget. Poor, sweet lad.
I’m pretty naive when it comes to drugs – pretty much the only thing I’ve indulged in are cigarettes and alcohol. I see people in the street and assume they’re using, but I don’t always see it. A friend pointed out some odd behaviour in a woman in the park once – sort of sucking on her own teeth – and said it was a symptom of having taken something. I hadn’t a clue. Husband was at a party where his friends started snorting cocaine and he made a swift exit. It’s always something we’ve avoided – I guess it scares us.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s good to be scared. I have always been surrounded by drug users, for some reason. I was the one who was always described as being straight and boring, but i’m still alive and have most of my marbles.
Sucking her ownteeth? She was gurning. It’s a result of doing Extasy/MDMA drugs. I don’t know why anyone would want to do something that makes them chew off their own faces, but it takes all sorts, and actually those particular drugs don’t worry me, as they are comparatively low risk. The real danger with them is depressive illness.
LikeLiked by 1 person