Artistic Syndrome Poem by Fred Babbin

Artistic Syndrome

Rating: 4.4


Poetry – this madness
This feeling-thought
that looks like thought
that holds my brain
captive
and makes me forget.

This cocaine
I must inject
Into my veins
to feel alive.
I must run-write,
I cannot stop.
I cannot stop.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Not a member No 6 13 July 2008

It generates a momentum all of its own Fred, and drives us into a fine frenzied circle of need and thrill, and you've hit the nail on the head very concisely. But now you're coming down from the high and it won't be long before the urge builds again to the point where resistance is futile, and write again you must, you must! jim

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Perfect pace, perfect pitch, perfect content. And... oh, yeh. t x

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Dr. Kolitha Lelwala 18 July 2008

Wonderful Poem Fred, I came to this page having read your comment on Joan's poem, loneliness. Anyway, having stayed long in captivity of poetry you may have comment on this poem, kindly comment on this Departure A good pem Fred, I came to your poems having read your comment on Joan's poem. you may like this poem, comment on it. Departure Autumn leaves float in the morning breeze giving percussions to chirping birds. Cotton wool flies in the fog blending with the mist There you see a lad corner in the down town with torn linen seated knees flexed head resting on knees Virgin rays brings warmth yet being destroyed By winter breeze The chest wall has no move ventricles in asystole skin has run dry tears freeze corner of eyes. The wind blown from the history Brought him to the future. Hope! It would be delightful departure goodbye to the 'life'.

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Christine Austin Cole 20 July 2008

Poet themselves are, I think, mad by definition (in a most wonderful way, I mean) . Poetry itself, then, is perhaps the one viable, generally acceptable, outwardly obvious expression of the condition – especially given today’s predominate absence of eccentric garb, passionate oration and the like. To embed one’s self into words, to set it on the page, is to introduce order, to process, to experience most fully the thought/emotions that are rampant within. It is both a necessity and a drug, I’d agree. There is a reason, I believe, that they say poets “suffer” writer’s block – a poet without words enough knows a pain, ironically really, that simply cannot be fully described. (Right / Write) on, my good sir. Begging your forgiveness for the rambling (a habit, I’m afraid) , Christine

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Wandering Scarlet 06 April 2010

as Freud once called cocaine 'the miracle drug' i agree the artistic syndrome does indeed work miracles

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Vanessa Cabrera 27 March 2010

Its a very nice poem. Artistic perhaps its a syndrome but its not being addicted of writing your poems or anything. It's just how you show your self or being you your passion and fashion.

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Wandering Scarlet 01 January 2010

Haha i laugh because i see and understand just what you mean by the heroin, I was once addicted (not to heroin) .

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Chitra - 23 August 2008

a nice write! universal appeal

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Sathyanarayana M V S 04 August 2008

It isnot heroin. It is nectar. Poets live long. sathya narayana

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