Tag Archives: drugs

There Was A Young Lady Named Black

There was a young lady named Black
Who’s heels went clickety-clack.
She could be seen each night
Standing under a red light.
They say she was hooked on Crack

The A Team

“The A Team”, by Ed Sheeran, is a moving song about a young woman addicted to Crack Cocaine. The gentle melody is in stark contrast to the words of the song. It is, surely one of Sheeran’s best songs.

Digital Heroin for Children

Research claims that children spend upto 5 hours a day glued to their smart phones, people’s attention spans are shrinking as a consequence of over exposure to technology and those aged under 18-years-of-age should use technology for no more than 2 hours a day. This is all worrying stuff, however if one digs beneath what some might consider as the hysterical headline, “Digital Heroin for Children”, it becomes obvious that not all researchers agree with this gloomy picture. Others argue that gaming can enhance intellectual capacities. A number of contributors also make the point that it is a matter of parental control, for example employing a “no mobile phones at the table” rule and limiting the amount of time children can go online.
As a child I spent much of my time reading and could, at times be anti-social preferring the company of a novel to that of my fellow human beings. I also well recollect, when growing up the concerns about the over exposure of youngsters to television. It was an oft repeated mantra that those who watched “the box” excessively would get “square eyes”. Are we seeing the same panic over the internet as we saw over television?
My own view is that the internet can be addictive. It is easy to go online with the intention of checking if Jo Bloggs has replied to that email only to become distracted by a blog post from one of your favourite bloggers. Being blind I am not a typical internet user as a fair portion of my time online can be traced back to the fact that I am visually impaired. I cant read print and therefore get much of my news via the world wide web. Had I the ability to read print I would buy a daily newspaper (perhaps several) and, as a consequence spend less time surfing the web. When I am online for protracted periods I feel tired and gain a huge sense of wellbeing by switching off the computer and doing something completely different such as reading a braille book or going out into good old fresh air!
So are we going to hell in a hand cart or are we seeing a mad panic over nothing? We cant uninvent the internet (and I wouldn’t wish us to do so), but we can (and in my view should) use it and other forms of technology responsibly (this is particularly the case with children where parents have big responsibilities).
For the article please visit, https://www.google.co.uk/search?site=&source=hp&q=digital+heroin+for+children+daily+mail&oq=digital+heroin+for+children+daily+mail&gs_l=hp.3…8107.23246.0.23739.39.36.0.3.3.0.688.4563.18j15j5-2.35.0….0…1c.1.64.hp..1.15.1897.0..0j35i39k1j0i67k1j0i131k1j0i131i67k1.NNPO7t1T7qU

Snow

A lack of musak.

No ghost, for spirits are immaterial as the wind

and here is a material world.

Aisles empty as the minds of the robots who patrol

for security has no soul.

Automated tills say

“have a nice day”

in a voice as caring

as the check out girl who is inwardly swearing

at her bloke,

“the guys a f..k joke”!

“Big Issue?”

the girl outside the store asks.

it’s a hopeless task

For the issue has been lost

and tossed

with the needles and dodgy cash

into the trash

Long ago.

Clubbers admire the snow, so pure and white.

It will be a delightful night.

Out of mind, out of sight

Under The Stars

Looking for a saviour under the stars

Men slow then stop their cars.

Girls under street lamps stand

Waiting for their lord’s command.

Needle pricks scar their arms

Still men discern a certain charm.

Girls think of their next fix

Man moistens his dry lips.

“I seek a saviour of a kind

In the hope some inner peace I may find”

He says shuddering at her needle lines.

“Your saviour I will be

Provided you can pay my fee.

A girl must live. Love isn’t free”,

She says gazing at a distant tree.

She thinks of her girlhood not so long ago

Of trees their boughs bent under the weight of snow.

She thinks “once I could not be bought

Before hard drugs their damage rought”.

The man holds out cold hard cash

She takes it with a bitter laugh.

Stepping in through the car’s open door

She wonders if she can take much more.

Her eyes fixed on the stars above

As he makes what he calls love.

She thinks of the knife at home

How easy to end it when all alone.

The pain is there behind his eyes

Inwardly two souls cry.

He stares at the moon above

Desperately probing for a kind of love.

Afterwards two empty vessels they depart

Both with sore and aching hearts.

addiction

I wake my head heavy, mouth dry, in desperate need of a fix. Shakily I get out of bed and on trembling legs make my way to the stash of powder.

I grasp the packet, desirous yet fearful to indulge my addiction. Could I get through the day without my fix? Perhaps so but, as the day progresses I know that my body’s craving for illicit pleasures will cause snappiness, lack of concentration and other classic signs of addiction.

With trembling hands I open the packet and watch as powder fills the receptacle. A few minutes later I sigh with satisfaction – this cappuccino tastes so dam good …