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Showing posts with label drugs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drugs. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 02, 2010

Fallible Man [Today's News Poem, November 2, 2010]

Fallible Man [Today's News Poem, November 2, 2010]

Reality's lost the electorate,
So vote for your gratification.
The libertine pathway of synapses
Is Manicheistic; rewarding
The silencing instinct of consciousness.

Fallible Man! What does will represent?
Urgent activity, mingled with grins.
Solipsist, think, so you are—and can be
Vapors at vespers: a pipe on your desk,
Confidence fills up both lungs—you're alone.

"He and his chief chemist get ideas for new drugs by scanning scientific literature. They pay particularly close attention to new papers published by scholars known for researching mind-altering, psychoactive substances. David Nichols, a pharmacologist at Purdue University, has been especially valuable, Mr. Llewellyn says. Through his work studying brain receptors, Dr. Nichols has developed a range of psychoactive substances. His papers give a full description of the drugs he's using, including their chemical makeup. This provides Llewellyn and others with a roadmap for making the drugs."
—JEANNE WHALEN, The Wall Street Journal, OCTOBER 30, 2010
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704763904575550200845267526.html

"Voters in many states cast ballots on controversial measures Tuesday, including opting out of President Obama's health care reforms, balancing budgets, legalizing marijuana, and countering union organizing."
—Michael Martinez, CNN, November 2, 2010 5:48 p.m. EDT
http://www.cnn.com/2010/POLITICS/11/02/ballot.initiatives/

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Monday, October 25, 2010

Scythian War Chant [Today's News Poem, October 25, 2010]

Scythian War Chant [Today's News Poem, October 25, 2010]

After tonight, when the smoke from our campfire
Alters our instinct, we'll ride on our ponies
Offering iron from bowstring to dousers
Looking for rain. We will shoot off our arrows,
Manifest fertile and effortless prairies,
Bringing the future much closer—and higher.

"A growing number of Iraqi security force members are becoming dependent on drugs or alcohol, which has led to concerns about a significant addiction problem among the country’s armed services as the insurgency remains a potent force and American troops prepare to depart at the end of next year... Those who admit to using drugs and alcohol on duty acknowledge that the substances lead to erratic behavior, but say long hours working at checkpoints, constant fear and witnessing the grisly deaths of colleagues make drugs and alcohol less a choice than a necessity... Some senior police and army officers said that because drug abusers were typically among their most fearless fighters, they were loath to take disciplinary action against them."
—TIMOTHY WILLIAMS and OMAR AL-JAWOSHY, The New York Times, Published: October 24, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/25/world/middleeast/25baghdad.html

"The news, delivered in a phone call, left Sue Bates aghast: she was losing her job of 22 years after testing positive for a legally prescribed drug... The medication that Mrs. Bates was taking for back pain — hydrocodone, a narcotic prescribed by her doctor — was among many that the company, which makes car parts, had suddenly deemed unsafe."
—KATIE ZEZIMA and ABBY GOODNOUGH, The New York Times, Published: October 24, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/25/us/25drugs.html

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Saturday, July 10, 2010

Stoned and High: In Search of the Final Reward [Today's News Poem, July 10, 2010]

Stoned and High: In Search of the Final Reward [Today's News Poem, July 10, 2010]

We all know the answer—the question's too simple.
Instead, methamphetamine clouds join the thunder
Of sugar and caffeine; to addle the senses.
It's faster than ever. A hurricane gathers
And carries the waitresses, truckers and farmers
On powdery wings—that are dripping with whiteness—
And passes the mountains of opiates, ganja,
And alcohol: passengers spinning too quickly
To notice the flatness beneath them. And sleeping
Inside of the base of the mountain, the dreamers
Are scarcely aware of the action of living
Outside of their dream—of the scurrying sightless.
Obsessive, who still can't imagine the tempo
Of God in the clouds or the silence in temples
Of stone—and the metrics they use all avoiding
The obvious standard for filling the empty
Ennui that is drawn to rewards made of pleasure.

“That question remains at the center of an investigation into the death of David Rozga, an Iowa teenager who last month committed suicide shortly after smoking K2. Mr. Rozga, 18, had graduated from high school one week earlier and was planning to attend college in the fall. According to the police report, Mr. Rozga smoked the substance with friends and then began “freaking out,” saying he was “going to hell.” He then returned to his parents’ house, grabbed a rifle from the family’s gunroom and shot himself in the head. ”
– Malcolm Gay, The New York Times, July 10, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/11/us/11k2.html?_r=1&hp



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Wednesday, May 26, 2010

The Ancient One's Invisible Hand is a Tentacle [Today's News Poem (Sonnet), May 26, 2010]

The Ancient One's Invisible Hand is a Tentacle [Today's News Poem (Sonnet), May 26, 2010]

Tentacles wander the fathoms; they're searching:
Grasping for nourishment, seeking possession.
Corals are crumbled and sucked by the lurching
Feelers with mouths—they've a hungry aggression.
Cold is a measure of distance. The suckers
Latch to the pebbles, atolls, to the beaches...
Grinding the islands, appendages pucker,
Kissing the nourishment flecks that it leeches.
Diving again: submerging and seeking
Treasures in castles of sand that are tended
Laxly, but helpless is better. The ekings
Animals struggle to keep are upended
With grasps from the ocean. A smothering tether
That taps its own hunger will draw all together.

“At least 44 people were said to be dead after a third day of violence in Kingston, Jamaica, as security forces assaulted the slum stronghold of armed groups believed to be defending accused Jamaican drug lord Christopher "Dudus" Coke... Much of the problem, authorities say, lies with the long-festering issue of Jamaica's criminal organizations, many centered in Kingston's shantytowns, and the rise of powerful "dons." In exchange for the community's protection of their illicit activity, these figures offer services that the government at times doesn't, such as welfare and local justice. Mr. Coke is among the most powerful of these men.”
– Joel Millman and Nicholas Casey, The Wall Street Journal, May 26, 2010, 1:54pm ET
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704717004575268253857164996.html?mod=WSJ_hpp_MIDDLENexttoWhatsNewsTop


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Wednesday, March 03, 2010

Fanfare for the Common Crook, [Both Movements: March 3, 2010]

Fanfare for the Common Crook [Today's News Poem, March 3, 2010]
“Mr. Johnson also attended the World Series game in question and was involved in soliciting the tickets from Yankees officials. The tickets, with a face value of $425 each, were for seats a few rows behind home plate.”
--Nicholas Confessore, and David M. Halbfinger, The New York Times, March 3, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/04/nyregion/04paterson.html?hp

“For the second time in two days, Racine police arrested a shoplifter who went on the attack when confronted by store personnel... Reports said the 23-year-old security guard watched Budner take the $179 coffee maker and then walk past the last point of purchase at JCPenney Tuesday just after 6 p.m. The guard told officers he chased Budner, who fled out the northwest doors of the store, across the parking lot into the Applebee's restaurant parking lot. ”
--MARCI LAEHR TENUTA, The Journal Times, March 3, 2010 12:46 pm
http://www.journaltimes.com/news/local/crime-and-courts/article_5454bf0e-26f5-11df-b45c-001cc4c03286.html

I) A Fine Distinction
Accusing me of being high? I'm low!
And lower all the time. So what? I took
A piece of crap. It wasn't worth much dough.
You treat me like another sort of crook!
Just look at David Paterson. He stole
From New York state enough to burn in hell:
Indulging him because he rode a poll
And throwing desperates like me in cells
Because confusing rules of theft and gift...
I will admit my ignorance of laws.
I might not know the proper ways to sift;
To play the legal code and use its flaws
But isn't there a code all thieves can use?
To see what is legit and what's abuse?

II) Why the River Lethe
A puff of weed destroys the pain
Of traumas pent within the brain.
A snort of coke for richer folk
Will lace a harshness in their jokes.
With both, a drug is just the means
By which they glimpse at better scenes.
We own whatever we obtain.
Since loss is pain, we must sustain
Our gains—though loss is life's great crux,
We stave its rush with lots of bucks.

We yearn and so we die in bits
And bored to death between the scares
We drink whatever gives us fits:
As life denies us, takes our wares

In increments too small to note—
A tiny death by desk: a rote
And wearing task of paper null.
This prison has no outer hull:
Its bars are codicils of ink,
And lawyers form its monied links.
And when another fucker's crashed
And tossed in bins as if he's trashed
He'll seek that perfect cup of joe
He has an image he must show

The world: that he loves only pleasure—
Or fears life's pain: they've equal measure.

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