Poetry With A Mission



...a thought provoking poetical exercise.

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Bottled By A Bottle

(Do you like it straight?)

They’ve been bottled by a bottle, are often seen plastered, smashed, sloshed — not tipsy,
But hopelessly intoxicated, drunk, blotto — having boozed themselves silly.
And apparently proud of their stupidity; pub crawling repeatedly,
Throwing up on the street, abusing passersby — or later, wife and family.

Yes, bottled by a bottle, a liquid that ravages, shatters, befuddles,
A substance that has them uttering profanities, leaving smelly puddles.
A drug that strips them of dignity, and has them acting abominably,
A brew that has women degrading themselves, and men acting far from manly.

Once imbibed, it beclouds their judgment, hence how they end up acting like they do,
And how they become addicted, hooked, soon craving this unnecessary brew.
And to make matters worse, some drive under the influence — would be assassins,
Who also rob others of hospital beds, needed healthcare and medicines.

Yes, bottled by a bottle, which effectively ends up bottling others too,
They being, those on the receiving end of the carouser’s duplicitous brew.
One that’s often a lethal cocktail, a health robbing mind-bending combination,
A bubbling cauldron, one warranting a skull and crossbones classification.

Seems many can’t do without their beloved booze; even its health properties tout,
Whilst conveniently leaving its bad properties and negative side out.
“It’s fine in moderation,” the deceived say, but how many drink moderately,
And what’s their idea of moderate, given that one drink alone acts destructively?

Personally, I wouldn’t touch the stuff, nor let others somehow pressure me,
For one’s grey matter is far too precious to be pickled so injuriously.
But who needs it anyway, given there’re other drinks, and healthier drinks around,
And given that far more constructive ways of enjoying oneself can be found?

Be it beer, wine or spirits, they all leave one worse off, harmed — and others too,
For alcohol’s presence affects the innocent — criminally so, in my view.
Thus, I wouldn’t encourage any kids to drink, (youth often upping the throttle),
Lest they, or someone else in their befuddled way, gets bottled by a bottle.

Yes, its time folk got over their love affair with the bottle.

By Lance Landall


"No amount of alcohol is safe."
World Health Organization

According to the Cancer Council (Australia), alcohol is a major carcinogen and there is therefore no safe level of consumption; such causing cancer of the mouth, pharynx, larynx, oesophagus, liver, bowel and breast.

It's very interesting (and telling) how most are very quick to defend the drinking of alcohol, but when they’re accused of some sexual indiscretion, say, they’re also very quick to somewhat excuse themselves by blaming it all on being under the influence.




2.  Booze Blues

Yes,

I could drink beer, but I’m just not interested, because too much is made of it,
And alcohol being a drug, and hence why with a healthy lifestyle it doesn’t fit.
Beer hardly a man’s drink, unless he’s a fool, of course, because it affects the brain,
Impairs ones judgment, puts one at risk, and why by taking it I’ve nothing to gain.

Surely you’ve seen those hangovers, that puke splattering streets, and that licentious hand,
The latter as out of order as that angry tirade, those sad things that weren’t planned.
Because alcohol takes control, befuddles, fools, degrades and sets one up, and how,
Hence that shame, that court appearance, because where some don’t grope they raise their fist and, Pow!

And who needs the stuff, it naught but an adulterated substance, kick in the head,
A mental and physical threat, and why many end up in a hospital bed.
Or those folk that they injure while under the influence, such hardly manly stuff,
And why its those who refrain from guzzling its cruel contents that really show who’s tough.

Yes,

Drinking no more sophisticated than that fag in the mouth, lungs getting blacker,
And beer rotting the liver, triggering cancer, much like an internal hacker.
The evidence documented and clear, but folk still wanting their beer, toxic brew,
But not me, because even in moderation it causes things to go askew.

Hence those leer-y, bleary, red eyed looks, that unstable gait and slurred speech, drug-like state,
Which so oft wrecks marriages and families, causes mayhem or seals someone’s fate.
So, be it beer or wine, it’s all the same to me, not a friend but an enemy,
And why I’ve no time for that health robbing, people destroying pub or brewery.


By Lance Landall


"He who drinks a little too much, drinks much too much."

Proverb



3.  Alcohol? No Thanks

“Here, grab yourself a beer, matey, because you've just become a man,
And join in with the others too,” which is how trouble first began,
Because as the weeks grew into months, and the months grew into years,
The alcohol that he consumed, left behind a trail of tears.

Yes,

Trouble in a bottle that particularly affects the brain,
And which one's sense of what's right and wrong it can very quickly drain.
Just one glass affecting one’s judgment (documented research shows),
For once it's made its entry, it's straight off to the brain that it goes.

Thus, impairing our judgment via such, can only but invite ill,
And hence why it's best to leave it alone, exercising the will,
'Cause it also destroys brain cells, that tragically, aren’t replaced,
And other damage as well, to alcoholic drinks can be traced.

Little is left unscathed by this harmful, intoxicating brew,
That sees so many people doing sad things that they later rue.
And the truth is, its just not needed, and better off all would be
If we removed this danger, and instead, practiced sobriety.

Alcohol just triggers accidents, and tears families apart,
Or generates arguments, and hence why fighting will often start.
It’s responsible for crime, it badly maims, oft takes out lives.
Fills up hospital beds, and it often splits up husbands and wives.

Alcohol also degrades, hence that poor behaviour that we see
That is arrogant and rude, and so immoral sexually.
Yes, it has many doing things that they wouldn’t normally do,
And is it any wonder, for alcohol's a befuddling brew.

Yes, it flooding the brain when taken, where it rapidly impairs
One’s vision, one's speech and hearing, until tipsy one soon appears.
It also impairs balance, co-ordination and reflexes,
Hence why folk oft say, “Only a fool, drinking and driving mixes.”

And it hinders the white blood cells in their battle against disease,
Causes Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, and sexually won't please.
And the risk of certain cancers is greatly heightened by this brew,
Which also lowers melatonin, and thus enter depression too.

It weakens the immune system and leads to damaged DNA,
And also to mental problems, and addiction, along the way.
It can cause gastric ulcers and cirrhosis of the liver,
And also seizures; and swelling, which inflammation will deliver.

I've only mentioned a few of the many facts that one could share
Regarding the risks involved in one downing spirits, wine, or beer.
Nearly every major organ is affected adversely,
So, “Don’t grab yourself a beer, mate,” for that is acting foolishly.

Yes, true manhood displays wisdom, it saying “No” to harmful things.
And is guided by what’s best, as foolishness only trouble brings.
Yes, true manhood takes the highroad, though unpopular it may be,
And stands firm amongst any crowd that's seeking uniformity.

If something is bad for us, even a little will do us harm,
So with these facts that I’ve mentioned here, let us therefore ourselves arm.
Alcohol just isn’t needed, it’s simply what some folk desire,
A drink that has a taste that one is better not to acquire.

By Lance Landall


This older poem was upgraded 9 December 2017.




4.  Cause To Pause

The human body’s a sophisticated marvel, intricate and complex,
Designed to run on the best of liquids and solids, those quality care ticks.
Such ensuring top performance and greater longevity, less wear and tear,
All why bodies need to be responsibly maintained, treated with thought and care.

Because our body is such a quality creation, made of the best stuff,
The amount of abuse it can take truly surprises, ’till it’s had enough.
And then, given the damage that’s been done, it starts to give trouble like a car,
Some things being repairable, some things not, depending on how deep and far.

Thus one living with pain, disabilities, or facing an early exit, and
Regret part of that same scene — we and not life having dealt ourselves a cruel hand.
And all ’cause our body wasn’t meant to be abused, but rather, treated well
(Both maintenance and application wise), or we triggering an alarm bell.

The truth is, we’re our body, thus mess it up and we mess ourselves up, and so,
We surely acting wisely, sensibly, or others will suffer too, you know.
We an unnecessary burden, taking up hospital beds, costing too,
All of which is really quite selfish, and why we’ve cause to pause and think things through.

Our bodies weren’t designed for what can only but internally maim and bruise,
All why we see damaged and failing organs, simply ’cause of what people choose.
The evidence there but it ignored, lives shortened as a result, even wrecked,
The destructive stuff appealing far more, when out the door, it should’ve been kicked.

Yes, a sophisticated marvel we are, top shelf stuff, costly quality,
And there only being one of each of us, yet we treating ourselves carelessly.
Our stomachs just treated like waste bins, and our brains taking hit after hit too,
If not via the mouth, via the eyes and ears; a different kind of toxic brew.

From a Christian perspective, we’re not our own, but God’s, and therefore duty bound,
Charged with looking after what’s really His, so it’ll remain healthy and sound.
Yes, we can still abuse it alright, because we’re free agents, but that won’t please,
And shows both ungratefulness and stupidity (given that pain that one sees).

But whether one believes in God or not, it’s simply sense to mind our bodies,
Or enter that doctor or surgeon, that gnawing ache, cruel pain, limp, cough or wheeze.
Oh yes, we certainly paying for that right to choose wrongly, and God knowing,
But on our faces, that still-haven’t-learnt hell-bent determination showing.

By Lance Landall




5.  When Silence Descends

(Dedicated to the hearing impaired)

This world’s full of many who've suffered at its hands
amongst them, those whose hearing has suffered injury,
And thus they not able to enjoy anymore what most take for granted, even put at risk, sadly.
Oh, how hard such is to deal with, life seemingly shutting them out, so much experienced via one's ears,
And then there’s tinnitus — twenty four seven — noise that robs of peace and sleep, drives one crazy, brings to tears.

Yes, the noise often worse than the hearing loss, constant and loud, like hundreds of cicadas in a tree,
Or a jug on the boil, a flushing urinal, a leaking air hose — constant stress — no break, no mercy.
On the one hand unable to hear what ones used to, and on the other, an insane cacophony,
Sirens, hisses, bells, hums
 what sounds like an unintelligible radio station, plain misery.

Hence why some become like hermits, withdrawing from society, irritable, angry, tired and stressed,
Oft feeling unable to cope, and adding to such, others’ seeming lack of thought, or disinterest.
It’s the old story: 'Till folk suffer from such too, they don’t show the thought they should, even get annoyed,
Fed up with that 
“Sorry, what was that?” — when a little more volume or clarity they could’ve employed.

Then there’s Hyperacusis, hearing damage that leaves one hypersensitive to sounds, let alone one's loss,
'Cause oddly, both can go together, and tinnitus with them, hence those who’re carrying a painful cross.
They struggling to cope, even depressed, people who shouldn’t be subjected to insensitivity,
'Cause hearing loss can be a heavy burden, a serious loss, affecting one's life considerably.

And as for hearing aids, they’re not like one's natural hearing, only go so far, have their issues too,
Though in most cases they’re a blessing, but a mixed one, and who can afford such, pursue that avenue?
And they not working for all, like those who’ve as good as no hearing at all, and who need a miracle,
'Cause all they know is silence, complete silence, they seemingly in solitary confinement, sadly.

So please, mind how you go.


By Lance Landall


This poem was upgraded 11 February 2020.




6.  Why Am I So Cranky?

Well, I dare say you would be too, if you lived with noise twenty-four-seven, and dreadfully so,
Yes, a maddening cacophony within your ears-cum-head that cruelly refuses to go.
A din that grows when it’s exposed to more noisy situations, or some sudden loudish sound,
And that an already tense, tiring, distressing and depressing affliction is sure to compound.

And that affliction? Tinnitus! Something that many would refer to as hellish, a nightmare,
Such worse when things are quiet, such worse when exposed to noises — a racket-cum-commotion in each ear.
Oh, the misery, and why it can drive folk crazy — and sometimes, I’m sure quite literally,
And hence why I’m so cranky, for there’s nothing that I can do, which just raises the anxiety.

So please, I really would like your understanding — some leeway here — your overlooking some things,
For every day within my ears-cum-head there are hums, hisses, bells, sirens, cicadas and rings.
In fact, an orchestra, but not as commonly heard, for there’s no melody, no harmony,
But rather, a bedlam of sound, a heavy metal band on steroids torturing evilly.

Yes, a heartless enemy, and there, every single moment of every single night and day,
Such being like a punishment for some unimaginable crime — so there, imprisoned I stay.
Yes, a shocking life sentence — well, from its beginnings, that is — and therefore, no release in sight,
And why that merciless cacophony continues to harass me each day and sleepless night.

Don’t damage your ears!


By Lance Landall




7.  Loud, Deep And Damaging 

I walked past someone’s house one day, from which loud, thumping, low frequency sound came, and which well down the street
Continued to disturb — I thus left pondering on the thoughtlessness and harmfulness of such strong beat,
'Cause despite those pleads for the consideration of others, and evidence that such bass is  harmful,
This generation continues to selfishly upset, and injure their ears, as if they’re unmindful.

Oh, the ears of others who're subjected to such, be they kids who’re imprisoned in cars or those near by,
Their neighbours, or those pedestrians whom booming, vibrating vehicles irritate and terrify.
And hence why this generation will pay a very high price for their thoughtlessness and clear-cut folly,
'Cause ears weren’t meant to be subjected to such bass and volume, which in short time, kisses hearing goodbye.

Even at low volume such low frequency sound can harm, and more so over time, yet, that beat goes on,
Destroying the quality of life of many, who, gain no relief until such offenders have gone.
And in many homes where such nerve shattering thumping is heard, are wee babies with very tender ears,
Which, thanks to their parents, will be unable to serve those poor young ones well for their three score and ten years.

Yes, a rebellious generation, who though warned of such harm (be that via bass or amplification),
Is seemingly determined to prove the truth of such, just not listening, nor showing  consideration.
Oh, how they’ll suffer, for hearing loss isn’t fun, which these youngsters won’t appreciate 'till too late,
But how cruel that due to their thoughtlessness and selfishness, many innocents will suffer the same fate.


By Lance Landall


This poem was upgraded 9 February 2020.




8.  Mercy Killing 

Though sympathetic to those who’re wanting Euthanasia — "Mercy killing," they say —
I cannot support legalized killing of any sort, and err some people may;
The death penalty a case in point, it having claimed some innocent lives, sadly,
And such laws just playing into the hands of issue-bound Hitlers who act madly.

So, best we not legalize what’ll cause a crack that some might prise open one day,
Despite all the checks and balances — for oh, how so many like to scheme and play.
And this why, despite our compassion, and concern over such suffering, such pain,
We shouldn’t take that path that subtly endangers, because folly is evil’s gain.

And you know, judges having discretion, which hopefully they would all use wisely
Where someone caved into their loved one's plea, thinking they were acting humanely.
Not that I’m personally sanctioning that, but it’s better this than such a law,
Which would thereby tweak the doctor’s Hippocratic Oath — and given time, maybe more.

If life’s not seen as sacrosanct even to the bitter end
that period of pain
We will endanger it by degree, and some credibility to killing lend.
And thus mercy killing becoming dicey killing, and we but the axmen, who,
Though not wielding that dubious axe ourselves, give it to somebody else to do,

And once given, it’s all the easier for anything else that they may well do.

Believe me, friend, I do know what it’s like to suffer, and to want to end it all,
Having gone through serious mental and physical pain, and a taxing long haul.
But despite having been there, I know that the bigger picture must be kept in mind,
Lest in time, we once again reap the consequences of that erring of mankind.


By Lance Landall






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