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Joy Marsh

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Member Since: Jun, 2006

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Medicated Limbs
by Joy Marsh

Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Joy Marsh
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           >> View all 24

Unrealized dreams vanish with the onslaught of disease.

Author's note: This poem is from a few personal life experiences, changed to fit the story I wanted to tell and never intended to offend or criticize.

Cravings subside as you inhale the complex mixture with your medicated limbs,
overburdened, my fragile state is discreetly tucked away.

I watch as the coward, weathered now but surviving, changes focus seeking its next victim.
A prison sentence for whoever succumbs to the “kick.”


The hungry devil lingers deliciously alive, staining the walls in
brown and yellow.

I’ll take the tray from your lap, one more time
daydreaming about sailing with you in Little Pleasant Bay.


It could be days, maybe hours waiting for the next volley. 
I’ll continue to feed you, dress you, wake you gently.  

Tomorrow,” you always said with conviction.
An easy word as it rolls off the tongue. 
                                      I always envisioned sandcastles, sea glass and holding hands.
Truth is, we simply underestimated the damage already done.


Too late in the game now, to throw away the ultra-light carton of clever advertising 
in this ringside seat with its pains and fortunes. 
                                       Tomorrow...... re-written, re-sanded,
with its nervous edge of nicotine, we yield to what cannot last. 

 © Joy Marsh



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Reviewed by Connie Faust 1/14/2009
The sad story of nicotine addiction. Somehow, I was not lured into it. Life holds enough natural catastrophes without this one piled on top. A somber, realistic poem.
Reviewed by Regis Auffray 7/13/2006
A powerful message and reminder, Joy. Love and peace to you.

Reviewed by Elizabeth Taylor (Reader) 7/12/2006
"...Tomorrow...... re-written, re-sanded..."

Well said...
Reviewed by Kate Clifford 7/12/2006
Extremely insightful write!
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader) 7/12/2006
Been there. Done that. Flushed it down the toilet in Mobile, Alabama, looked in the grimy mirror above the filthy sink and found the will to not look back.
Reviewed by E T Waldron 7/12/2006
Excellent write Joy, it sends shivers where it's meant to!

Reviewed by Peter Paton 7/12/2006

Smoking like any other addiction can be overcome...
My Dad quit smoking easily....every time he felt like a drag...he equated and visualized the ciggie with a worked...and he never smoked again..
How very true and telling your words are..
Those Malboroughs have a lot to answer for..


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