Addicted ~ OpenLinkNight 21 ~ dVersePoets

Addicted
 
It called to me from dust and debris
an ancient forgotten, dog eared copy
a whole new world would open for me
altering future, reality.

The worlds he weaved were pure and true
lands of red and trees of blue
Where red rum would soon become
Murder in a hotel room

From the valley sweet this dark world treat
would alter where my pen would meet
the crinkled page in ink filled rage
to fill with words became the feat

This shiny thing that caught my eye
would be the words where crayons died
where I grew to what I do
upon the page where fiction lies

So the words began to run
and child hood slowly came undone
where I grew the words did too
I consider this a battle won

But how does one truly free their pen
to write of death, of lust of sin
Unleash the beast, a tribal feast
A sacrifice to gods of men.

It called to me from dust and debris
This ancient and forgotten weave
Where the words are the only way
In their blood my soul is saved.

Hey Poets! It's OpenLinkNight and I get to throw the party! Doors open at dVersePoets at 3pmEST. Also, my dearest friends...if you're interested....we're doing a survey over at The River Journal.  We want to know how your family hinders or helps your own word addiction.  We're dedicating an issue to the trials and tribulations many of us face along our journey, and would love to get your thoughts.  Feel free to drop me a line if you've a story or an experience you'd like to share.

Comments

Great poem! Pleasure to read and stumble through.
Brian Miller said…
where i grew the words did too..i grew up in books and they have been a constant companion...and now i get to add my own...much like you...

did the survey as well...

looking forward to seeing you behind the bar tonight tash...
Anonymous said…
I love the story of growing up in there ~ the evolutions of words and a little curious as to the "spark" that started it ~ or in your words "an ancient forgotten, dog eared copy" ~ loved it! Poetryman http://apoetryman.blogspot.com/
ayala said…
I love this, Natasha.....
It called to me from dust and debris
This ancient and forgotten weave
Where the words are the only way
In their blood my soul is saved.

Just beautiful!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A moving, beautiful poem, Natasha-- I especially love:

But how does one truly free their pen
to write of death, of lust of sin
Unleash the beast, a tribal feast
A sacrifice to gods of men.

It called to me from dust and debris
This ancient and forgotten weave
Where the words are the only way
In their blood my soul is saved.
Laurie Kolp said…
Books replaced crayons... love this. It can be tough finding balance. I'll head over and take the survey. Thanks.
Laura said…
powerful Natasha! "But how does one truly free their pen
to write of death, of lust of sin
Unleash the beast, a tribal feast
A sacrifice to gods of men."
Anonymous said…
Natasha, I envy this! I cannot write rhyme to save my life and you do so flawlessly! Beautiful penning!!! Happy Sharing!!!
Brendan said…
I've quoted Saul Bellow elsewhere, but he says a writer is a reader moved to emulation -- certainly without books I would have been sunk as a kid, whether it was "Thunderball" or "My Side of the Mountain." And like someone learning to play piano for years, somehow reading all those lines produced all the lines that flow now from our hands. A sweet addiction, and far less burdensome on others than whiskey. Great poem - Brendan
Pat Hatt said…
The shiny thing that caught my eye
Was always the movie, I'm just that guy
But the more I go
The more the books do show
Never really knew I had such a thing
Until I gave the rhyming a ring
Another wonderful write from you
And that is just the face it facts tashtoo
Beachanny said…
The ballad of the books written beautifully here, Natasha. I picture you in beautiful Nova Scotia reading outside with a picnic lunch and the skies swirling above you. Lovely.
Daydreamertoo said…
And when the bug bites what choice is there but to scratch in ink or keyboard...keep writing, you do it so well.
Anonymous said…
a wonderful poem, Natasha! love every line!

{i live alone so i'm going to skip the survey.}

happy holidays! ♥
Cathy Feaster said…
I also grew up with books...got lost in them really. Dean Koontz, not Stephen King much for me...but I think Dean's weaving of word choices helped spark my interest in writing...and I also like the weaving of your word choices in this, Tash
Victoria said…
This called to mind my own word-drenched childhood and ancient tomes of poetry. We were lucky/blessed to be immersed in books so early.
RD said…
ahhh, another hotel room :-)

the words are important...the release = the reward...for so many, they cannot...thank you

Peace
Shades of Grendel, Caliban, and Dionysus, with the scent of a nutmeg ready to be grated.
Arron Shilling said…
RedRum...RedRum...RedRum

believe it or not i (someone resembling me) once injected something named RedRum - thankfully a V long time ago (unless i'm still in the foggy haze imagining this hahah)

a bad drug - a great reference - an awesome book movie.

love the shape of this tash and the form suits the content aa fine duality.

Super Duper Dude
Wonderful writing---and yes--red--rum---
hedgewitch said…
Words inspire words, I think, if you're a writer--they crawl into our brains and reproduce under an old notebook cover. ;_) I loved this Tash--you are the mistress of this cadence, and you use the beat well here.
Claudia said…
ha...sounds you already started to unleash the beast...smiles...more words please...love this tash.. and thanks again for stepping in for me...much appreciated...
Anonymous said…
Love these line - " dog eared copy
a whole new world would open for me
altering future, reality."

I have dived into alternate worlds so many times between the pages of a book.
Unknown said…
Tash, excellent write, really a lot of great lines in here and especially how they each work together in the composition of the piece. Really enjoyed the piece, thanks
The Silver Fox said…
Each of us has a moment where we say "I can do that, too!" Sadly, some can't

You can. You never fail.
Scarlet said…
I found my muse later on but these words resonate with me :

But how does one truly free their pen
to write of death, of lust of sin
Unleash the beast, a tribal feast
A sacrifice to gods of men.
Chris said…
Love this one. The rhythm of it, and the darkness yet brightness. Words, yes, so addictive.
mrs mediocrity said…
words are my oldest friends, i loved the story in this.
Anonymous said…
Lovely==I like the dog-eared savior! Best kind. K.
kaykuala said…
Books can never be a bore. An iPad makes it more versatile changing from one to the other but still.

Hank
Timoteo said…
Yes, unleash the beast...but I want to be there when you do it! LOL
I caught that reference to The Shining...one of my favorite movies!
Enjoyed this.

Especially:

I grew to what I do
upon the page where fiction lies

Fiction always lies, of course. And in so doing tells a greater truth...
Anonymous said…
Heartfelt and yet polished. Love it! Especially like "and childhood slowly came undone/where I grew, the words did too" Lovely write altogether!
Beautifully done! I really enjoyed it!

Also, I stopped by to thank you for your fun contribution to this week's Limerick-Off. I hope you'll be a frequent participant. (I post a new Limerick-Off every Sunday/Monday/)

Thanks again!
Anonymous said…
For me, writeandread go hand in hand. One feeds the other. Enjoyed this Tash.. always feel your energy...
Unknown said…
Keep putting that pen to the paper. Love this.
Uneven Stephen said…
A beautiful poem, from the best rhymer I know! Seriously, this is a heartfelt piece. Some of my fave lines are: "It called to me from dust and debris / an ancient forgotten, dog eared copy", "the crinkled page in ink filled rage" and "Unleash the beast, a tribal feast". Well done. And thanks for hosting.
Steve King said…
I really like this, Natasha...the tone, the content, the texture. You're writing a biography of the evolving imagination. I think we can all relate to this in an intimate way. Very nicely done.
Mark Butkus said…
Fantastic Natasha! I love the story that you weave and the scheme and effort of your pen.
Cheers,
Mark
Unknown said…
Powerful expression, there is such a visceral emotion to this, captured me completely! Lovely write my sister, thank you for all the support and love you show me, grateful for our words! My best ~ Rose
Maude Lynn said…
Stephen King? Me, too, Natasha!
Anonymous said…
an homage to art (literature) and the effects of its addiction.
one at home with this addiction.
nice allusions (I see Steven King in there).
nice roll of catharsis.
great poem!
Ann Grenier said…
A bit of mystery, layers of meaning, teasing intrigue. Good poem, Natasha.
Anonymous said…
Exactly, Natasha. Words crawl into our hearts and won't. let. us. go.

beautiful and true poem, Natasha.

Lady Nyo
Unknown said…
amazing images, Natasha! the picture you've created is the picture I see, but cant quite describe.. great work!
Great! I think this dVerse group is the largest group of bibliophiles anywhere. :-) I love books and words, always have it seems. And I'm glad you picked up those crayons again. Love your crayon art.
Anonymous said…
Ha ha, I love this part:

"Where red rum would soon become
Murder in a hotel room"

http://iamthat-shawna.blogspot.com/2011/12/cremation.html
Unknown said…
So the words began to run
and child hood slowly came undone
where I grew the words did too
I consider this a battle won

The subject is really interesting, loss of innocence as a process of gaining language. The weave of the paper and the blood you write with. There's a lot packed into the images and I wonder whether all the threads are woven as clearly as thwy might be.

This has some very sharp images and the turns of phrase really make me jealous. I like the rhymes you've chosen and they do not seem forced. I do have one nitty pick, "valley sweet," I think, sounds just as good switching the adjective, "sweet valley."
I love this piece! So classic and timeless, excellent!
Dear Natasha

I enjoyed it very much.. the thoughts are so heartfelt and engrossing... I loved your lines...

'So the words began to run
and child hood slowly came undone
where I grew the words did too
I consider this a battle won'

Thank you for sharing...


Shashi
ॐ नमः शिवाय
Om Namah Shivaya
http://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com/2011/12/whispers-buddha-song.html
At Twitter @VerseEveryDay
Divya said…
Nice.. liked the lines.. Word grew too :)Nice write . Loved this one

But how does one truly free their pen
to write of death, of lust of sin
Unleash the beast, a tribal feast
A sacrifice to gods of men.
It called to me from dust and debris
This ancient and forgotten weave
Where the words are the only way
In their blood my soul is saved.



to me, your words sound abstract and full of dust and lust ...

A fundamental topic poetically and wittily represented.

Cheers.
Wonderful Job.

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