This painted a very vivid picture. Bravo.

I liked this a lot! I feel like your word choice was spot on. You talked about a lot of different things but they together created the same similar, haunting, yet relatable image. :)

Holy shit I love this. I can't get over it, immediately painted the picture. Anyone who has lived it knows it. And an authentic poem can be a teleporter. Reading this I could smell Marlboro cigarettes and cheap coffee, and I dropped out of school right after the final line. Cheers!


Hello readers, welcome to OCpoetry. This subreddit is a writing workshop community -- a place where poets of all skill levels can share, enjoy, and talk about each other's poetry. Every person who's shared, including the OP above, has given some feedback (those are the links in the post) and hopes to receive some in return (from you, the readers).

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I love the visual too, I think this might be one of my favorite lines now too.

I'm not sure I did, though I associate alcoholics with the smell of decaying fruit. The line was more visual for me, I know addiction as allowing beautiful things go to rot. But either way, I think the smell and the visual fit perfectly.

Just curious, did you know what the putrid clementines meant? That's how severe acoholics smell

Can't believe how clear the image was by the end, I think the putrid clementines took it to a detailed level that made it seem far more personal.

the imagery is awesome, I love how each line is short and concise, bite sized if you will. good job  :)

Thanks, it really hits home with me on so many levels. Very personal to me.

This is a very interesting meditation on sobriety. Have lost a few friends to this struggle & I appreciated this poem a lot for that reason.

I hope it brought humanity to poverty too.

This is a lucid depiction of lower class America. I know people in my life that attained each one of these descriptions until they became a shell of a person.

Wow. This here is my favourite out of the 4-5 poems you’ve posted here. I love how there are no rhymes throughout the poem but the last few lines start to rhyme, as though the person has begun the process of getting clean. Also, I don’t know if it’s untitled or the title is “Untitled”, but I have to say it does make sense to me as the title. Because if you think about it if this person ever wrote poetry, they’d be too lazy to give it a title. :D

 

rendered fat

sinewy muscles

ripped sleeves

pinup tattoos

gas station liquor

hot breath

nicotine-stained fingers

bitten to the quick

like a wick

burning tires

red faces

swollen livers

putrid clementines

chewing mints

broken homes

weed choked trash

stilted cinderblocks

bare mattresses

moth eaten dreams

money schemes

methamphetamines

tryin to get clean

&amp;#x200B;

 

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