This is about drugs, and being on them.

This is really great. Some of the lines need to be pulled back to make them as tense as the others: 'And just as my last shred of consciousness slips'. But I enjoy the tone and rhythm of it.

This reminds me of the movie "Network". You should rent it and pay attention to the love story part of the movie. The part with Faye Dunawaye and that old guy. Also, I wonder if this guy has a five year plan. This sounds more like someone's diary entry than a poem meant to evoke the readers feelings or thoughts.

I've got Wishbone Ash playing as I read this. Blowin' Free. It feels very appropriate. I agree with Dovina about 'cadence', I also stuggled with 'Made from love and oaken'. Other than that, not bad as lyrics go. Better than any of mine.

I thoiught I had commented on "Parkinson's, but aparently not. That one was well written with a touch of believability. It was nice to compare with your usual metaphors. As for this one, I especially like how memories become enemies. No I don't like it, but it's true. But "dead leaves" left me wondering, as if memories die eventually - wishful thinking, I think. Perhaps "You are my yesterday" would bring into the present, carrying the memory if you will. The last 4 lines of that verse are good. Not sure I like the word "cadence" at the end. Seems too unresolved, maybe that's right though.

This is a really neat concept but it needs to be in prose format, I think. At least the first four stanzas do. You could get away with making this half poetry, half prose. That would also free you a little more to use your more conversational style. I read it like a story instead of as a poem and it worked well. The ending is particularly good :-) Typo - 'penultimate'

Good lines. I'm not yet certain which way your attitudes towards it are going, but I'll keep reading and work it out.

The images are conjured vividly and the stronger opening helps. The ending was a bit of a letdown as I got the impression throughout that this was going to be a chilled out poem about driving around in the elements and in the end i think you xcranked the gears and spun out out control (pardon the cheesy pun). If you made this about six or so lines shorter it could be a really cool piece. Dont get me wrong its good, worth a 7 or 8 in my opinion but not the finished piece it could be.

Yes, hence the title, it is a tribute to the macabre and horror.

Somehow I feel this is the part II version of your previous poem... Parkinsons. Correct me if I'm wrong. Nice words here.

Yet again you've raised the standard of your writing even further. The only thing I'm uncertain of here is the colon after 'but'. Nothing else to say.

This starts off well, but I think the Ben Franklin quote falls short, especially with the irrelevant word, "wealthy." "Healthy" and "wise" are applicable though. Also "wonders" should be "wonder" I think, to match the subject "I." But the thing that causes me to want to argue is the implicatioin that a healthy and wise person is perhaps more held in His hands than the other.

Beautiful... it's like you tell a story, oh well, what am I talking... you are telling a story ... of expectations and of hoping. Give it time... and the story will unfold further... though it's hard work.

I see that you sum it up in your last lines. What I can't understand is why you guys take drugs. That aside,it gives me something new to think about.

It's great to sit around with a friend an get crazy, talk ceazy and laugh over a beer or a glass iof wine. I guess, having never done more, it seems unnecessary, but who am I to know. Not a bad description, I'd say.

True story: while walking home from my art class when I lived in Pittsburgh I saw a girl in a wheelchair contorted and obviously mentally and physically handycapped. She seemed happy at the time and she was holding in her hand a box. It was a board game with the word LIFE written across it in bold letters. I always wanted to make a painting of that. I agree with Dovina though on the "Healthy wealthy" cliche.

Here's an example creating more of a controlled meter, a touch of metaphor yet retaining what you implied in the original. If you want to change the following stanzas give it a go, the flow and line meter alone can do wonders to the readability and general impresson a poem can give. You have the whimsical vibe and portray things nice enough its just the control you kinda lose. sitting at the wheel. rain clouds storm heaven trees arch like a whores back, with electric veins and drums He’s there in my vehicle an observant kindly instructor, Watching my every move, eyes fixed on the road he commands… ‘Left indicator, brakes a little, clutch and first gear, move on slowly… hump ahead press the clutch and shift to two, accelerate a bit, if you’re confident, shift your gears to three and speed on’. And so I do. I shift to the fourth, speed away, ever confident that I know it all and forgets he’s there. The thrill of being in control envelopes my senses. I’m transferred to a world of my own, till I come to a junction; the rain’s pouring down and I don’t know how to stop, when he suddenly presses the brakes.. and then I realize he’s got the controls on his side too, and I’m saved in the nick of time. Lord, how could I forget You’re in control of my life? I’m glad you are.

This has a good and worthy message within. I would change the last line to something more subtle. The whole poem is very direct; end it slightly less so. Also, the ending is sort of open - not quite a question, but wondering who it is that holds your life. Don't give us the answer so overtly. I'm happy to say that I got this message long ago and have lived it ever since :-) On that note I'm going to catch up with Niphredil; you'll be happy to know she's still alive, despite everything going on in the Med.

This is awesome. I love the loose rhymes; rhythm was a little swift for me but it still worked well enough. Just altogether really, really good to read. Glad you're writing again!

This is a really lovely poem, so meaningful and awe-inspiring.