Best Addiction Poems | Poetry
Below are the all-time best Addiction poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of addiction poems written by PoetrySoup members
Search for Addiction poems, articles about Addiction poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Addiction poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.
See Also:
New Addiction Poems
Don't stop! The most popular and best Addiction poems are below this new poems list.
My addiction is her
by Raynes, Lewis
Bad Diction Addiction
by Rigoler, Maurice
The Reality Addiction
by QUIGLEY, CHRISTOPHER
Drug Addiction
by NUSKER, AFZAL
Addiction
by Arola, John
getting out to addiction
by parker, cs
Temptation and addiction
by Russell, Sam
Destroy Addiction
by Trim, Nick
THE ADDICTION
by Trifiatis, Demetrios
My eyes are your addiction
by sharma, Kishan
View all new Addiction Poems
The Best Addiction Poems
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
~Alice Sweet Alice~
*Like Sisters*
Everyday -- Holding Hands
Sunday Dress -- Pink Ribbons
*Alice And I*
How can they say she did not exist?
This Sweet Girl I Named Alice
The way she looks at me
-Her eyes tender green
A body figure I can't describe
Together we played hide and seek
We swung in ways no one could see
This girl with pretty red curls
Who enjoys the sound of pouring rain.
Together we slept under the same breeze
We carved our names on the same tree
Side by Side it Read Alice & I!
She whispered the day I fell off my bike
Alice Sweet Alice loves the way I look in red!
Every day I face the mirror
Alice puts her left hand on my right
We share the same identical scars,
Under the right and left palm.
The way she held my hand
Healed the scrapes in every fall
Beating from the bullies, she screams!
Again, Alice, whispers--- "Kill Them All!"
No one ever said a word,
When she stood by my side
Alice knew me in ways no one else did
She knew my eyes -When they cried!
Now I can't sleep,
Since, Alice has fallen back into the abyss
Forever conscious in a self-hug
--- this is no dream, it is real!
The rage inside, burns.
It took place the day she left!
Burning curtains
Empty mirrors
This Girl Named Alice spoke of darkness,
then disappeared
When I hear the sound of pouring rain
I stare at the shadows on the wall
Nothing feels the same,
I allow myself to soak in a darkness where it began.
My hair of red is not the same
These cuts are all that remain
The only clue in which Alice, was here!
Holding on to stainless blade, I sleep
ALICE SWEET ALICE!
Please call my name!
Why do they whisper?
Why are they saying she never held a breath?
I know she is real, she's exist
Why else would I let her cut my wrist?
This Sweet Girl
"I YELL FOR ALICE!"
Finally, visits again ---
But, who is to believe?
For everyone says
Alice lives inside my head.
By:)
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
"Mine all Mine!"
A thief I long to be
Your eyes original like the moon and sea
A lover in the world............
An Anthology, you walk and talk like the word "AMOR."
The words you send, I nicely tuck under my pillow
Every note every line you left behind
I memorized till they became all mine
Word-for-word,
Unauthorized I scrape the concrete calluses off the tongue
Pirating the perfect dramatic monolog look,
Basking through the passage around your Bio,
Lost in the musky scent -around the sonnet of your aura light
Epic enough, I reach inside to feel every idyllic rhyme
A strong iambic meter curse, conjuring up the perfect verse
In you I lift a copy paste from your lips,
No need to credit the sources in your bliss
The sweetest undamaged sensual memorandum book
A moment I stole and sealed without copyright proof
My dearest Poet,
When you move across the room
I see a thousand arrows that follow from behind,
Indulged when you speak and point out a verse per verse
I am a victim pampered by your words,
Sponging every line, adding them to my crib notes
Improved wordplay that infringed my everyday diary
A haiku so tangible, it sets the perfect images in my dream,
Hypnotize after I read your first love poem
A printed feeling--
Borrowed from the sun
pd
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
Whisper's of October
Whispers in this soup bowl
20 minutes after its muse explodes,
Daylight remains nothing more than a dream
Warding off the howling sound in mid-September's stream
Casting a line about a ginger light,
found in the depths of everything
Engaging from the sitting twilight, numb, tranquilized
Exposing and expressing the emotions found within
An attic lost in the Ancient sky ---awaits
A poetic hand is formed ---reaching out
A hissing whisper out of the darkness,
Listen-in, the echoes of October are calling
A halo, that reconciles a mysterious monarch moon
A mono grip in which summons a mysterious voice
of sweet serenity
Poets posting poems along the midnight page
Each poet can compose a poem and mimic free fallen verses,
One might call it a creative craving curse,
Webmaster's whose words speak for themselves
Voiceless-
They feel, and spills the will of idolized ink,
Blind-handed, splitting day from night
Warm whispers, needing no food to consume
Migraines of ink, feeding the soul
Burning Pages, overused pens
They've forgotten the pretty flowers
Living like lions, who never comes out of their dens
Murmuring and devouring, the enigmas of the unknown
Eyes behind a sieve, close tighter than before,
They hide nothing-
A world created from every sky-scrape the wall
Wanting to belong, a trick -or- treat*er in disguise
No friends, everything is pretend
These poets can’t be described, can't be believed
They are the best in what they do
For all you know this poet might be me,
This poet might be you
9/3/14
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
Cup of Empty
She pours him a cup of empty
From a teapot of childhood dreams
He loves the sound of her giggles
Hers is the light of a thousand moonbeams
Moonbeams and butterflies, petals from roses
Counting out loud, crossing fingers and toeses
Unicorns and Teddy all enjoying a sip
Cups full of empty never spill and can't drip
He lifts a cup of empty
and gives his baby a wink
"Mmmm, dear darling, this is so delicious,
it’s the very best I've ever had to drink"
In the evening he turns to his bottle
With his friends he goes to the bar
She faithfully waits for him for hours
Thinking "Dear daddy I wonder where you are?"
Moonbeams and butterflies, petals from roses
Counting out loud, crossing fingers and toeses
Unicorns and Teddy all enjoying a sip
Cups full of empty never spill and can't drip
She sets their table and faithfully waits,
hoping that daddy will be coming home soon
But her tired eyes give way to sleepy
as her Teddy watches under the moon
He comes home way after midnight
Sees his angel asleep on the floor
Smiles and sips a sip of empty
and thinks "I shouldn't drink anymore"
Years have a way of taking
She doesn't wait for daddy at home
She's found a new kind of pleasure
Her hunger grew from being alone
She fills her veins with her empty
Dreams she can't explain
Trades her body and those giggles
In hopes of escaping her pain
Moonbeams and butterflies, petals from roses
Counting out loud crossing fingers and toeses
Unicorns and Teddy all enjoying a sip
Cups full of empty never spill and can't drip
Daddy sat home, and he waited
His baby girl she never came home
He still drowns himself in his bottle
But now he drinks all alone
Her teacup sits on the counter
Emptied of her childhood dreams
He misses the sound of her giggles
and the light of a thousand moon beams
He lifts the cup full of empty
To his lips and takes another drink
Empties out the rest of the bottle
As his pain is poured down the sink
Moonbeams and butterflies, petals and roses
Counting out loud crossing fingers and toeses
Unicorns and Teddy all enjoying a sip
Cups full of empty never spill and can't drip
He traded what was real for his empty
As she relinquished her childhood dreams
Now his baby girl has flown to heaven
On the light of a thousand moon beams
He wishes he could be with his baby
Lift her cup and give her a wink
Say "Mmmm this is so delicious,
it's the best I've ever had to drink!
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
"I dream of Candy!"
Sweet cakes and peanut butter squares
A living diabetic's nightmare. -- My heart
sings to the beat, Under the Neutron Star Crunch
Sweet sugar cookies and peanut butter bars
Taunting whoopers,
Dancing dum dum's,
The sweetest silhouette show - in my room
Dreamy, Creamy Cupcakes in the afternoon
Cinnamon Cheerios cascade on my spoon
Sweeter than my sweet tooth
Now and later - a forever honeymoon
Jigglin' my jelly belly boo berry Butterfinger delight
I'm in love, licking the icy ICEE all night long
Extra freshness, once I crop a top off of a mountain dew pop
My eyes sparkle like diamond dazzle razzles in the sky
i LIVE to fabricate my very own sugar extract R.E.M. Sleep
Savoring the sound of saliva trapped in my mouth
THIS night - ovulated buds - wait to feast!
Enjoying a delicious dulce music sleepy symphony
Braggin' and embracin' a pinata pillow escapade
Enchanted by a cotton candy crave - calling my name
Lalaloopsy licorice and lemonade tea
The best-wet dream I've ever seen
Marshmallows of solitude dulcify every fresh fantasy
Enticing in a bright slushy skittles daydream freeze
One fat sunny bowl of cereals and cane
Crackerjack spell --- chocolate chip swirls,
Caramel lumps constipate the brain
Sizing - peanuts and in a popcorn party payday
Wrigley's wild winter Spearmint Breath parade
Give me, give me, some Gummy bear Dessert
---------"Another Fruit Ninja hair DAY!"
Watermelon Taffy stuck on the top of my gums
Swallowing the whiteness in a whistle pop bar
I FELL LIKE A SWEET SUGAR STAR!!!
Glaze of glory erupts deep down my throat 24/7
Bubblicious, mint twist, Sunkist the best Twizzler breakfast
Yummy in my twinkie tummy, drooling over frosted flakes
One more strawberry smoothie 44 oz cup
Counting each and every Pez popping'' up
Goodnight light,
It's time to get lost under the midnight moon pie sky
SELF- Huggin'' and snugglin'' to a new sugar rush high
:-D
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
Her paintbrush is a razor,
Her canvas, her wrists,
"I deserve the pain."
She shrugs and insists.
One day the brush will push down,
And it will cut so deep,
That this girl will fall
into an eternal sleep.
She doesn't remember how she started
What brought her interest to this,
How do you discover,
that cutting is your form of bliss?
No one would have guessed that she does it.
No one would have considered this one.
This girl is forever fighting a battle,
that she thinks the demons have won.
Her artwork is all over her,
Her beauty is on her thighs,
and if you look in her old trash,
you'll find her letters of goodbye.
Her masterpiece is quite disturbing,
Her masterpiece is a little gory,
Her artwork is her escape.
Let me tell you her story.
She compares herself to every person,
She is compared to each girl.
She thinks she's hideous,
And there's this boy that is her world.
She was bullied and picked on,
She was teased from head to toe,
Hard to believe that her best friend,
was her one and only foe.
Then later she disliked every little thing,
Her body, face and even her mind,
Soon she saw she was a failure,
and it was just in due time...
That this girl couldn't take it anymore
She'd decided she was done living this,
So one day she went home
and decided to end it.
Everyday for multiple days,
This girl would try to drown,
Hard to believe this girl at school,
never ever wore a frown.
Sometimes she'd just fall asleep crying,
Praying that she'd be enough,
Because she didn't want to leave her family.
She knew about their sweet love.
This girl found hope in small things eventually,
She soon would see this beautiful light,
and find a REAL best friend,
that helped her put up a fight.
Her masterpiece soon was leaving,
Her artwork was almost faded,
and it gave her a sick feeling,
the feeling of being jaded.
She found a boy that actually loved her,
And showed her love exists,
And this boy too had a masterpiece,
placed close to his wrists.
He related to her and she related to him.
She kissed his artwork and said he's not alone,
When she cut herself it hurt him,
Her masterpiece now wasn't just her own.
Her masterpiece effected others,
Her artwork wasn't just for herself,
She now had people,
who saw her cries for help.
And then her family found out,
So then they saw the art too,
to them they were just scars,
To her they were the truth.
She's trying to be okay now,
She thinks she might survive,
Even though they didn't think
to take away the knives.
Copyright © Madison Marie | Year Posted 2013
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
COCAINE Is Her Name ( Addiction )
COCAINE is her name. They call her COKE for short.
She came into this Country, without a Passport.
Since then - she has made a lot of scum rich. Others
have been murdered and found in a ditch.
She is more valued than diamonds and worth more
than gold. Use her just once and you too - will be sold.
She will make a straight A student forget his books
and a Beauty Queen forget her looks.
She can make a known speaker become a bore. She
can take your Mother and turn her into a Whore. She
can make a Teacher forget how to teach. She will make
a Preacher - not want to preach.
She can take your rent money and you'll be evivted. She
will murder your babies or, they will be born addicted.
She will make you - rob, steal and kill. When you are under
her POWER - you have no will.
Remember my friend - her name is BIG C. If you try her just
once - You may never be free. She has already destroyed
ACTORS, POLITICIANS and many a HERO. She has decreased
bank accounts, from millions to zero. Shooting and killing is
a common affair. Once she's in charge - you are under her
SPELL.
Now that you know - what will you do? I tell you my friend
it's all up to you. The day you decide to sit on her saddle - the
dession is one that no one can STRADDLE. So pay close Attention
and listen well - because if you don't - you can wind up in HELL...
05/08/2013
Note: Just hoping to make a difference.
For S.K.A.T."S contest
Copyright © Lucilla Carrillo | Year Posted 2013
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
~STRIP TEASE~ Featuring:) SKAT
Silver Skimpy Ink, String, A POET DESTROYER's bling, bling
Think of me as a human ditty delicious decoration,
Something along the line of a sweet tooth temptation
Cherry tastes, between the slit of tender toast
Fine jumble jam slams down the tongueless throat
Dance like a diamond on The tight South Pacific Rim
I'll feed you with a slithering seductive sound
My hair soaking, -wet and wild, tonight I trim
A dulcet apple acrostic bottom, to squeeze the greed
Feathers, on top, poetic diction describing to please
At times, I'm in deep dire need of something sweet, and sour
Endless epic words, and ode to the naked poetic world
We The Women and Men of poetry,
Reveals far more than any nudity found in a bar
It does not matter how you do it or who you are.
I'm an entertainer, of Poetry,
The good, the bad, the freaking awesome
Don't worry, I keep my clothe On :)
---
Symbol of the spiritual Sexy SKAT Slang
--Provocative-- A slippery succulent, scrumptious kiss
Counterparts working the tension, another arrant appetite
I am the Illuminati illusion, laminating luscious illustrated letters
Indulging in the, satire of one stilt spoken sunset
Like a child's spiking temperature, I often throw tantrums,
Teasing attentions, by incorporating a pole, paper and pen,
If someone is uncomfortable with facing the fact,
When I reveal everything, without removing my high heels
Then you must not be worldly or women and man enough
I love to spoil and slur my scenery, using my best assets
My strength and power parallel, any unique universe
That's how confident the audience makes me feel
We The Women and Men of poetry,
Reveals far more than any nudity found in a bar
It does not matter how you do it or who you are.
I'm an entertainer, of Poetry,
The good, the bad, fantastic and fabulous
Don't worry, I keep my clothe On :)
~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
I stare at my ceiling,
I start to wonder, why am I not healing?
Then it dawns on me,
The nightmare clip starts to roll.
I shake and shiver and wince at every little thing.
I'm scared to death,
What does this all mean?
I start to cry,
I feel as if I might die.
Then I grab my blade,
The tears come quicker.
My breath starts to quicken,
My grip on the blade makes my knuckles turn white.
In the mirror is where I see that my ivory skin is now blotchy and red.
I tell myself, "This may be the last time, if you finally cut deep enough."
So I try my best not to make a sound
As I sit up in bed and hold my wrist out in front of me.
I count to three,
One,
I put the blade to my wrist.
Two,
I start to add pressure.
Three,
I yank the blade across my skin,
It pierces and then I start to bleed.
I suddenly want it to stop,
But there's no going back now.
I wonder why it came to this,
I know nobody cares about me,
I know nobody is going to forget me.
Quietly I say, "I'm sorry."
But nobody is there,
No one will ever be.
I start to fade out of this world,
My addiction would finally be gone,
And so would I.
I was lost,
Lost and angry.
Suddenly, it was gone,
I woke up screaming.
The pain was oh-so real.
Copyright © Mackenzie Lakin | Year Posted 2013
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
Daddy's precious girl
fell hard for the White Lady
she was thirty-two
She plays with dolls, kicks soccer balls,
makes angels in the snow.
Gem loves her dog and chasing frogs
and putting on a show (such a ham!).
When she was twelve she took a toke
and liked the way she felt.
At just thirteen she learned to smoke
amid the Bible belt.
A soccer star who's going far
Gem does weed just because.
But Mary Jane won't dull her pain,
she craves a stronger buzz.
Some youths are slaves to weekend raves-
one night after the game,
a stud she met there made a bet
that he could light her flame.
The needle stung but just a bit
and 'fore too long she knew,
that she would never, ever quit-
White Lady got her due.
She lays so still it gives him chills,
but mommy just can't look.
Her lips pursed tight her hands so white
placed on her favorite book.
At thirty-two her years too few
dear Gem fell fast asleep.
Perhaps in time when earth's sublime
she'll waken from the deep.
In that new world with hearts unfurled
we'll have no cause for dread.
So dry those tears the time is near
to welcome back our dead.
* based on a recent local tragedy
Copyright © July Morning | Year Posted 2017
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
~TAKE MY MONEY ~
Crimson Joy, L'Oreal Lips, DOLCE & GABBANA eyewear
Mascara from beyond LONDON Bridges
Like the pretty face found in front of Vanity Fair
What can I say? Perfect -- goes with my daily addiction
A beautiful morning cup, STARBUCKS got my money
It's not more or less the cost or taste.
It's all about my dependency, with popular brand names
Shopping from place to place --- with a smile on my face
VICTORIA SECRET and the way she wears her bra.
$72 dollars it's time to double up them d's
Christmas Red and December Blue
Walmart can't pick up my bust the way she claims with trust.
Hot Topic's on my dark fashion list, Star Wars decor to explore
Obsessed with any accessory from the Walking Dead?
Bennie, blankets, epic shirts with gore, spending $200.00 more
Vulture is a man, with no hair, sat me down on his chair
"Try, this mam' a flat iron that works like MAGIC."
"Did you say magic?"
Didn't ask how much, once he commenced to caress my hair
Straight and silky like when I first bought the Evolution Wand
I tried to resist, however, I swear I heard the Iron call my name
This time, I promise to use it more than once
Between you and I - I don't even care to do my hair
Next thing you know, I own the Lioness curler iron too
With Expensive shampoo and conditioner.
What can I say, Buy 2 get the third one free
Finally, I felt - I got the best bargain possible
I won't even tell you how much I paid
You'd probably think, $189.00 is steep
How could I say no?
He threw in a heating glove, that's what I call Consumer Love.
Heading home, I spot Best Buy, needing a case for my iPhone 6 plus
Strolling near aisle 3, I hear Dr Dre, started some new beats
Falling in love with the level of quality, $299.00 how can that be?
I put a pink pair in my basket, they have to be special and unique
After all, $299. Means they are popular :)
Bargains here bargains everywhere, check out time, I paid 550 dollars
I'm so proud of myself today, I saved and gained 101 points
Happy and dandy I feel complete,
I will end, my freestyling write
With uplifting words --- Aren't you lucky I'm not your WIFE???
~PD~
WELCOME TO MY WORLD
TRUE STORY
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
A vulture and owl
Solitary and predatory
Watch and wait
The wastelands
Scarred by driving winds
Baked hard by an abusive sun
Void of life, a deep emptiness
The silence of desolation
Eyes down, he enters
Withering in self-pity
Cut-off from intimacy
Breath reeking of desperation
Bones cleaving to his skin
Has A choice
w b
a i
s g
t c
e o
l u
a r
n a
d g
s e
Kill the pain Face the pain
Bondage Freedom
Bed of piss and vomit Bed of hope and redemption
Alone – Death Together – Life
What will he do . . . ?
A vulture and owl
Solitary and predatory
Watch and wait
To the struggling -- never give up hope!
David Meade
11/21/2014
Copyright © David Meade | Year Posted 2014
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
I started sucking my thumb until it looked like a plumb
Things didn't feel any better so I poured a glass of rum
Some will imagine I'm happy when they hear the tunes I hum
whisky me Dixie I am the crazy unbalanced one
Yes I hum like a drum and I pretend to be dumb
I prefer the shady ladies who stay out of the sun
You might want to hang out after all I can be fun
Others will try and warn you, you'd be better off to run
You think I'm simple dear Simon, my thoughts not so deep
I know it's easy to judge me by the company I keep
I'm hanging on by three threads, one step away from endless sleep
I can't get up high enough, the incline of my mind is too steep
I'm weathered and worn kinda broken and busted
Others thought they could help get my aptitude adjusted
Yet some things can't be fixed too many layers have rusted
Kind people have attempted to get me polished and dusted
Forget all that attention I just simply cussed it
I wander asphalt streets bopping to my lost boy beat
see the crooked dexterity of my wobbly bruised feet
Nothing satiates me what I hunger for I can't eat
the ghosts in my mind have occupied my seat
My demons are hidden beneath a white worn sheet!
Don't try and peek under, you won't like who you meet!
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2017
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
Chocolate Fountain Abuse- for the lover
How easily I forget I'm allergic to chocolate
I want to dip the exquisite kosher in a Spanish brandy
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate
At a store window; a dried up chocolate fantasy goblet
A taste of spoiled milk, nothing dandy with this candy
How easily I forgot I was allergic to chocolate
Snickers Bar, melting under the spotlight for-profit
Not edible, waging unassertive words like a pansy
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate
Chocolate pop, a candy bar coming out of the closet
There was not much bandy, about this candy
It's easy to forgot I'm allergic to chocolate
Stubby nuts, stomachache, bucket of vomit
Butterflies, flipping when I hear a faucet of cocoa candy
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate
Enrobed with small nuts, it dwells under the pocket
Caramel and peanuts American walnut vigilante
How easily I forgot I was allergic to chocolate
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate
~?~
7/10/14
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
-This buds for you!-
-It takes one to know one!-
-I know you are, but what am I?-
A second hand, on my stopwatch, going nowhere!
You are a joker, a smoker, a midnight stroker
<-------How, about that, Steve Miller song
I'm not here to talk about the way you comment a poem
That's not how I roll, now listen, and listen well,
I don't care, about them words you speak
A whining sheep, every time you don't score
Crying behind close doors,
Boo-Who, I did not place high in so-and-so's contest
Gosh&dammit, not everyone's on a quest
Blogging, about the day, your poem got demoted to nonsense
Trying to comment relentlessly,
You can't top, a mountain that has no setup
I'd rather leave a copy paste comment,
"than being fake as fake can be"
At least, my copy paste was a song,
in which welcome the new poets on
Treating, everyone with love and security
Your invites, are cold and force, to you it's not about community
No motion, to your notion, simple, and disgusting
I don't know why you think, we are competing,
Long ago, I left you bleeding, no reason to be defeating
Your paranoia, has you thinking, it's all about the points,
It's getting old and boring,
You cry babies are nothing more than jokes and hypocrites
Hey you, this ain't dominoes, we done pass every Jo-Jo
When, I have time I sit here for fun, my trigger finger on the gun
Reading, commenting, until my day is done
You think, because someone, left a copy paste
That your poem was not read,
Perhaps, it was not understood, or enjoyed
Or, a welcome to the neighborhood
A nice smile, from me to you
Nice poem, You Rock!
So What! ---- WOW!
This Bud's for you
I think it's time for you to GET A LIFE!
Be glad someone took their time, in checking you out twice
Not, everyone on this site, is full of bull-shit
The smallest words, are more likely to be legit
I don't need and expensive comment,
I don't want to impress, when it comes to the best comment
Please do not make love to my poem!
A nice pat on my back will do,
Now that my friend, puts a smile on my face
To know you care, to know you were there:)
Peace Out,
~SKAT~
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
~the Fear of Never~ A DRINK TO REMEMBER!
And the fire catches every time, my heart needs a sip
I bear no shame pouring, poisoned pabulum whisky down
Lost in a place with hungry whores, ink paying gigolos
This night a respected gentleman put's on his evening gown
He sits in front of a mic playing the same old sad song
Fitted out in drag, his wife has no clue
Holy breeders trying to change my shoes
Lingering from the Cute Chinaman, running his tab sky high
Bluebirds of jealousy, set round the vintage Barstool like fools
Minds overpowered and threaten to the very nub
I am drunk-- in his eye,
He receives a macabre confession of possessiveness
I am drunk-- in her eye,
She has a sick confession of subconsciousness
Broken loose from a negative, regressive state of mind
Sit and enjoy this broken bottle of champagne
Unspoken rage in every empty can left behind
A shot glass drops from my unstable hands longing to hold a pen
I look into a mirror and embrace every meaning of stability
Blotting out the madness behind a metal cage of reality
At times, I feel the need to bring down this masquerade
A drink so hostile, I can't even remember my image and name
Too many scars, from the foster of paper and pen
My dependents are drunken demons from a traumatized childhood
Tonight I will legislate a special thanks
Holding up my cup, until death finds my note
I will smile, at every Judge and Jury, during karaoke night
Shutting down my eyes, fantasizing everything's gonna be alright
I will not jilt knowing, writers block haunted my days away
Insecure hoarding monsters enjoying spoil forgotten words
Tonight I thirst like never before, my tongue inscribes around a tin cup
I am not eating up by it, no matter how long I've drowned in it
This is my kind of whisky, my thoughts, my days of ammo
To tell you the truth, I possess no desire to drink
It's all about the love of poetry and how sober, I become (WITHOUT)
The monsters that reside inside, have one thing to say
"Give me Poetry, or give me Death!"
by: PD
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
~Life Support~
Welcome New Poet To Poetry Soup,
I offer you a warm smile, in hopes you come back another day.
From the moment I spot your name on the new poet list,
I roll out the welcome mat, in hopes you will stay
I am not afraid of you, I will approach you to say hello
I will Annoy you until you stop by and say "YELL-OW!"
Please have patience, when my ink has no flame
Don't be intimidated by The Poet Destroyer's name,
I'm sweet looking like a lollipop and fun like a kitten
"Warning!" Don't get too close or you'll be smitten,
You can choose to adore or instigate petitions of envy
When it comes to PD
Even then I am a friendly poet, protected by God's loving levee
It's time to introduce myself, call me Linda or PD
Unless, you're in constant warfare for the dominance of poetry
Then by all means, express yourself retard-ly
Verbalize my name, in any which way you like
Call me The Poet Destroyer, when tapping the mic
All though many here know I'm more of a Poet Supporter
A comment crusader, a poetic hoarder
I have no shame in my game,
I give, I love, I treat everyone the same
Unwind, Enjoy all the Xoolness coming to your direction
Inspiration, Contest, Friendly Poets, Poems, and Dedications
I am not a mentor, I'm not a preacher advocating the perfect poem
I am me, original as can be, in time you will seek out my troupe
Reminiscing, over the time I was your first,
Regale with loving respect, don't judge my hunger and poetic thirst
To all new poets I promise, I'll be faithful and follow you like a star
Unless, you forget to put gas while side showing in my crystalline car
Don't worry, New Poetic Poe, I got your back
Taunting you with a copy paste smack
Call it a "--Statement--" call it what you want
I call it, Love From PD, enjoying the community
With a simple hello, and peace out spree
CONGRATULATIONS, to all who made it through the years
Ain't nobody here worth more than you and your poetry
Take this time, and introduce yourself my new friend
Remember New Poet:
If it weren't for you, this place would be 2005 all over again
Always & Forever
Age Of Poet Destroyer
6-24-14
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
You ripped me
One word at a time
Shredded my smile
Pulled at my sensitivity
I was never strong enough
To pull back my paper heart
You took the pieces of me
Arranged them in your perfect order
I prayed for the wind to come
Hoping I would be carried away
Flutter to a new more loving home
Instead, I endured your paper cuts
I became your paper mâché
Shaped into the image of you
Glued with your inconsistancies
Coated in your endless smoke
Sarcasm and beer
I marinated in your endless tears
You painted me with a retarded label
Your stupid failure of a son
Forced to endure that brush
It was with your eyes I learned to see
Everyone else was better than me
I was a failure times three
My inside empty
I became light as air
As time went on I ceased to care
It happend slowly you weren't aware
Until one day I floated past your stare
No longer raw and bare
I clawed and ripped
Rewrote my page
My renaissance
coming of age
Not your puppet on a stage
Contorted by your rage
I have lost you to your death
The air much clearer, still I feel your breath
Within my doubts your lies still hide
Yet within me a new strength resides
Your image of me no longer applies
Doubt and fear reduced in size
No longer your "DUMMY"
On faith I rise
For Charlotte's contest, heart and soul confessional.
Written, September 1st 2014.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
SUBLIME
Sublime
I've been shedding snakeskin...
so blind
I've been destroying the noise
my worst enemy
Deconstructing my identity
soaking shoulder deep
in oceans of humility
feasting upon fruits of tranquility
breaking shackles
freeing ankles
from bloody mud puddles
razor blade anxiety
rising to a place
where yesterday
flees irrelevant
tomorrow
is insufficient
Yet
this moment
of SUBLIMITY
right now...
forever remains
a fearless paradise
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2014
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
AWAKE ~ IN and OUT ~
Spring arising, before morning light,
I walk under the new epic sun
The aroma of yesterday, gone
Today's the day that will follow tomorrow
I quickly walk a certain walk
Unique is all I can display
Watery eyes staying in the past
While vehicles pass and pass
Crosses lacking faith
I stay awake and mend with my fate
Foggy toys, I want to play
I can't keep up with all your kicks
I look, I stare, at the walls
Bright and early, I step on old dolls
I stay and feel, the way you want
Lifeless, and still so full of energy
Mad words, unconscious forces
My sweet needs, now reside inside of you
Mad, sad, and outside the box
You close every door and keep me away from dark
You only allow me to feel your morning light
Why can't you let me see what's behind the shadows?
Why do you turn on all the lights?
I'm here the way you want me to be
Happy, and merry, for the world to see
This blindness will continue to spot
Unless you wake up first and remove the dot
You gave me the thirst, you once knew
So filthy, so full of -spew
Under this closed freaking door
I'm exposed like the midday sun
You bang my head on the wall,
You killed me in a way that made me feel!
I only answer to your call
In and out a hoop~ like a ball
In me, you can not find any real dreams!
Inside you filled me with a raging scream
Sssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
I'm in wonder around your air castle
Strange and hung on your mantle
Stepping on a one footed slave
Alert, alert Am I!!!
I shake, we kiss, I wake,
You sleep...........................
I zip all things into one zipper.
Pounding my hands against my ears
Crazy, taking a jab upon all jabs
Crazy, you say~ that's me everyday
I'm up and I caress the photo we once had
I lay only staring at you once more
I awake before I sleep
Your promises I keep
In me~ you are also in deep
My stars change everyday
Waiting for you, to pull the trigger
Still wishing to be a sun digger
You can't touch or loosen the knots
Together we will daydream our way to the top
I make your nerve system come alive,
We run into the wind and listen
Quietly in our chamber of thoughts
Near and far, we both nod off
In this daily race, with no face
No space,
I caught myself awake,
The day I fell asleep for you.
by;PD
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
What powers held me in this tortured love
Shame and excitement danced around me
Grasped by the cunning illusions, deceiving
My void self image, coercing my
Vanities until I believed the insideous lies
You robbed my soul, knowing
Your presence was sealed with death's kiss
Tossing and turning in the night
I let you back in no matter the cost
Oh, and this is good -
I pretended not to be hostage to your
Cunning facade of empty promises
Even letting you linger in the presence
Of my most cherished posessions
As they also became sick in your stench
Finally, enough denial and nearly destroyed
Still strong enough to rid myself of you
I see you for what you really are, a drag
Killer of desire, coaxing many
Also blinded by your evil
In the last hours of whatever life I have left
And the coffin is near, I'll wonder
Why I let you hold me for so long
Copyright © Karen Anglesey | Year Posted 2013
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
That tiny pause to skirt the truth, half-reals you'd paraphrase,
The subtle softly spinning gyre of cunning in your gaze,
Vague reflections from your skin - a shedding, sheltering plaque,
All concerned syllables sent swiftly bouncing off your back.
Ever adrift on fiction's lost sea, never blown to shore,
Too late I saw your hidden thirst - too easy to ignore
Evasion and avoidance - thus was piloted your ship,
You'd dance around, not run aground - you gave us both the slip.
I failed your buried, rooted pain, I missed the reddened tracks,
All facts would step aside your rime of displaced parallax,
I slighted each secluded wound, the false-trod thoroughfare,
So ends a life of wary silence, cloaked mutely in despair.
No one knew you as I did, my reward there sadly sure,
I'd like to think away now, yet the hard truths are too pure,
Blinded, perhaps, by my own fear, I let out line for years,
And all my stock of forward time now fills with bloody tears.
Upon my closing sight of you, muzzled words within your eyes,
Your final hour released you not - you'd walked too long on lies.
Copyright © Doug Vinson | Year Posted 2017
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
i heard a...what do they say...a spine chilling scream
...is that the saying?
a spine chilling scream
followed by
'he's dead, my G_d he's dead'
the phrase echoed
inside the whole of me
like tennis balls bouncing between two parallel walls
i ran up
aware i would be at the edge
where the road ends and the gates of heaven stand
saw a young man
looked through the aperture of his existence
looked and singed his eyelashes
looked and could not see beyond now
you know those beautiful fluffy white clouds
the kind that feel like large teddy bears that want to hug you
she had landed her very own- she cherished him
knew who he was
felt lucky they shared a mutual love
i can't imagine the despair
flowed through her when she saw him like that
his doughy complexion screamed volumes
breaking the thunderous silence
he was a pale grey, blank, empty
a sight impossible to process
at odds with how one survives
the experience of this tragedy
she was lost in a dreamless mare
[most of the time
life
its outcome depends on the flip of a coin
if you don't know that you don't understand
life
his coin landed on its side
...all the kings men and all the kings horses...]
her 'beautiful huge fluffy white cloud'
had succumbed to the storm
heart in throat
hesitantly
she touched him
he was a frigid cold
for a moment she saw her own smokey breath
moving as if she was walking
through the thick grains of unbearable pain
thoughts racing
she attempted to make sense of the senseless
despair had grabbed her by the throat
shook her around like so much thread and fabric
she thought he might of seen life as futile
society as a guise, as a failed paradigm
thought he had reached the last motel on the road to nowhere
and just...checked out
depression
the illness
it's unlike any other pain
when it peaks
few if any survive it
the afflicted instinctively self medicate
but street drugs are mean
she could easily empathize
she too was him
honestly she was tired of living in her sadness
a life marinated in tears basted in blood
the experience of having seen her partner
lose his life to drugs and alcohol
affected her profoundly
experiencing his death
was like getting hit over the head with a sledgehammer
she'd never wash it off
it clung to her like a pariah
you can't wake up from reality
and you can't sleep through it
the tragedy had possessed her sensibilities
it was a malignant truth she could not ratify
singular in its nature
unfathomable
she'd been blindfolded and spun
a ballerina on a high wire across the span of time
spiralling down an infinite vortex
one plus one is seven
the ceiling isn't a celestial painting
how many fingers
a forty ounce of vodka
opioids a hundred times stronger than heroin
men in uniforms
and
and
...lost...
what happened?
less than two hours ago
he could think- speak
he had his very own persona
now
lying there
as
nothing
it could have been her
it could have be anyone
but it wasn't
it was- Him
what did occur to her
was
the loss.
Copyright © Carol B. | Year Posted 2017
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
Daylight is greeted with the horrific stench of food chunks
swimming in stomach acid, dribbling onto bed sheets.
Accompanied with the embarrassment of
brown syrup puddle stains.
Head is pounding
like a hammer - hammering nails into the skull.
Cumbersome movements drag drowsy flesh to the mirror,
as bloodshot eyes with yellow hue, glare in reflection.
Exhausted hands rub dense stubble,
as heavy eye lids struggle to stay open.
A cocktail of coffee and a cold shower
comfort this somber slumber.
Mouthwash and mints help disguise
the fragrance of yesterday's session with Bourbon.
Continuous sips of water, attempt to quench sultry thirst,
but the blandness cannot douse untamed flames.
Especially as days consist of sitting
surrounded by monotonous blank walls,
and staring at cracks on a vase -
silently watching wilted flowers crumble.
Struggling to defeat temptation from fermented demons,
summoned by cravings for that burning sensation,
the tongue cries for mercy.
Infiltrates the mind luring it to
lust for sour liquid passion
that infuses the bloodstreams.
Hands trembling, parched lips quivering -
only golden nectar can ease the pain.
No need for a glass, as bottle is devoured,
with momentary pauses of 'aaahhhhh.'
So begins the daily quest,
to suffocate every sorrow.
To feel numb upon request,
with no care for tomorrow.
Favouring fantasy over reality,
each drop kills the pain.
The bitter sweet taste is a lethal injection,
but the numbness helps to feel perfection.
In a place where nobody notices -
alcoholic symphonies lead to intoxicated sympathy.
To deal with being alone, to forget the world,
to forget the name.
Envious eyes can be a crime,
leading to jealous tendencies.
Hiding secrets can lead to becoming a victim
to a self inflicted demise.
An empty bottle leads to remorse.
Bitter sweet tears roll with shameful giggles.
Now the cracked vase looks perfect with flowers blooming.
Inebriant melodies mock the mind.
Attempting to dance, legs stumble and crash to the ground.
Laying there on the floor - laughing.
Then crying hysterically.
The heart has no desire to be sober,
only to remain intoxicated until death.
The Silent One
20 October 2017
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017
Details |
Addiction Poem
|
Listen to poem:
My sister says
my father was a good man --
but, how should I,
who never "knew" him
(except as a far-from-good man)
buy her stories?
Am I, the last child
of that union,
too, too judgmental?
Too far removed in time from
what she knew
and now recalls?
My memory is of a different man,
who died when I was twenty-two:
one rarely present, never talking,
often jailed,
unsupportive --
someone I really never knew.
He was no bearer of familial tales,
no imparter of the history
now I only wish I'd heard...
Obviously, I differ from my sister
about what constitutes a good man.
He never seemed to feel that he
needed to provide basics --
food, shelter, clothing, health care --
to his offspring -- and he almost never did......
I do remember how he staggered
on the street,
fell off of curbs,
sought shelter
and often could be found
asleep -- or at least
stretched out unconscious --
in some vacant lot;
how he foraged
frenziedly
about for beer,
or only Gallo muscatel
(thirty-five cents for the flask).
Should I not ask
what makes my sister think
I could remember him as does she?
In such a different light?
As victim,
and maligned
by inlaws or by circumstance?
All I know is what I do remember,
what I survived
when she and others,
grown, were gone.
I do not think
that I can accept
or change
(nor in absentia, forgive) --
and, no, I do not yet
believe
what my sister says.
Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2017