Murray Warner liked a puff

thought a pipe or two not enough

used to grow his own

Tenterfield seed he had sown

In Asia he tried hash,

also gave opium a bash

Felt totally in charge

but his habit grew large

Hydro got too easy

started mixing with the sleazy

in order to pay he dealt

not sure how he felt

His head in a haze

his eyes always glazed

knew no one straight

couldn’t trust any mate

As it took over his life

he lost kids and a wife

Struggled to work

Cops started to lurk

Paranoia gripped

Memory slipped

Supply dried up

Speed he did sup

Never considered it could take over

wondered why he was never in clover

Could you live like this?

Then give is a miss!

13.7.2005 – poem is shaped like his pipe …


  1. Despite being surrounded up chain smokers, in family and friends, I’ve never took even a single puff. Still today, I love to crush the smoke pack under my footwear whenever I can 🙂

    P.S. What’s with the date, 13.7.2005 ?

    Liked by 2 people

  2. First i love the play up of words here kate and the rhyming is also brilliant…i was reading it aloud and it made me wanna sway…
    Second poor Murray…he never realized how amazing it is to live without his vice…
    And lastly, yes the use of hash is still rampant here Asia

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Love your clever, creative, wise, but sad pipe-shape poem. Murray should’ve used his brain. 😦 I can’t even stand to be around any smoking…because of what it does to people’s bodies AND minds.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Pipe Dreams

    Too many delve where they should not pander.
    Too many vices to choose, all make one loose.
    Education is the key, if only more could straightly see.
    There would be less of a need for any recovery.


    Liked by 1 person

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