Best Depressants Poems
Prozac Nation, dated September 8th, 2001
became the film that reminded some that
these days that we live in, with cell phones
that make us capable of connecting in a flash
mean we've broken our pencils and torn up
our stationary where letters once were dashed
off of the tops of our heads and sent on
with sentiments read by bifocaled heads
of grandparents who would soon be dead
yet were there for the time, there to remind us
why we're alive and we're living in a time
of Prozac and Ambian and some form of Xanax
We've become a people dependent on our drugs
where we once depended on our minds, our hearts,
the souls that sought out Jesus instead of
the cluttered cabinets of painkillers and anti-depressants,
everything that seems to replace the true person
with a desensitized, artificial, contrived individual
only surviving the times with stockpiles of prescriptions
Chopped Updated - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: craig cornish
Some people will always call you this
and that, and refer to you in metaphors
which can break the vocabulary
wardrobe.
They will say how you'll never be loved
or get love, rise up, succeed, dream,
find happiness, be normal....
These words will seep so deeply
in you, making you believe that their
color is your color.
You actually become what they say...
My dear,
that's not how the real world actually works.
Some people will love you,
and others hate you. This means someone
somewhere really loves, adores, and admires you
for who you really are.
Throw away the anti-depressants, 24 hour sad soap
opera routine, sad songs, suicidal thoughts.....and anything
weighing you down.
Feel your inner power and sense of belonging,
and levitate in Bliss,
rising above it; the world.
Date of Entry: 06/09/2016
I am attempting to be sure to exercise patience...
In my former hell I was writing, reading, smoking, pleading, meditating, and waiting
I manifested the move- I worked for it.
Then boom! I get here, I'm working immediately, I am thinking things will just come to me but I begin getting exhausted.
Then Boom! I realize the real work has just begun.
I am not motivated- you can't bet on motivation- it comes and goes.
I am exhausted though. I was given sleeping pills/Anti-depressants. Now I am exhausted lol. The most tired Ive been in a long time.
I don't even feel like getting up to fix me some food so you know I am exhausted.
BUT GOD!
One day this will all make sense. God said this is the year of Recompense!
We all will make it. Some way, Some how. We all will make it-if we so choose to strive for Righteousness...
When you're in hell you're so confused and working so hard to get out. Little do you realize once you're out is when the real work has begun. Remember Job in the Bible...Joseph...? They never mention how exhausted they were when God put them back in position... Well, let me head to this kitchen.
Daylights savings. God is greater than this world. Some souls cannot be saved.
Grateful mine can.
Talk to you soon xx Gu
Growing up with my grandparents wasn’t so great,
Having to hold onto so much weight.
While my mother was “at school”,
And my father acting like a fool,
I only hoped someone could open the gates.
At some point my mother came back,
But there was something that I lack.
When I tried to let out my voice,
She saw it only as noise,
And in return she gave me a smack.
She forced me to move out of the house,
I was running around like a mouse.
Burning plant was used to let herself loose,
Alcohol was her form of abuse,
The pillows were quickly douse.
My father quickly came and picked me up,
However, I was still down in the dumps.
After the therapies and baker-act,
I was still abstract.
Taking anti-depressants with water in a cup.
That’s when I began to write letters.
And slowly but surely I got much better,
It helped me let out stress,
Just as much as playing chess,
Happiness engulfed me like a sweater.
Now I have exceeded everyone’s expectations,
As they stop and stare at my creations.
They said I wouldn’t make it anywhere,
But now they’re the ones who glare.
A celebration across the nation.
by Mark Miller © 06/15/2014
Signs stained white written by twilight's blacken Knight,
Raining silent sights depressants drown the conscience might-
Feeling venereal waves sullen air on standing skin shivers
Ridding stallions frailty of fear scorn folly appears,
Warning scent of scowl substance -
Seeking in cause and effect applies not in this lullaby,
For the mind belongs to it's own song and dance-
Willow trees weep beside the empty fractal houses,
An ethos fills body's soul with a depraved dreadful chorus-
In jostle of moments lined faster a hurried escape from felt hidden disaster,
An alter of one espousing blight of blithely blister-
Sympathetic one of other removes contents in empty pockets,
Seeking aloft allusions in solutions left lied ring-let-
Daemonic cutting deciphered experimentally-
Winding winded two halves distract obvious facts completely,
Attics into Usher's velvet windows asunder lightening's thunder,
Horror's glory retreats toward sisters end read story
Lightening revealing THE frighting fury hour-
Days of three seal homes sickened manner strayed lost honor,
Violins play chimes of melody clocks delay frayed fractured decay-
Answered doors store stealth terror of sores
Whispers in absent scenery closures presents history-
Sickle red sorrow drowned disease roams hallways demented path of jester become,
Pallor color companions eclipses my natures being to be-
Capacity particulars a ghastly gloom
Thus is our dissolution for reservations inside our Mansion of Doom-?
You tell me I gotta bite the bullet.
Then you turn around and chant “Pull it! Pull it!”
Because you’re not the one diseased.
Teased.
Seized.
So you don’t really care if the trigger gets squeezed.
You sit in your chair studying my thoughts, my every word.
Notepad in hand, scribbling your diagnosis, which happens to be absurd.
Because you have no medicine to cure my pain.
Maybe I’ve just snapped and gone insane...
How ‘bout that one DOC!
Shhhh. Listen. “tick-tock” says the clock…
Enough with the therapy session.
An hour of your lies isn’t gonna erase my depression.
So quit feeding me doses of anti-depressants.
I don’t need a placebo, I need to hear a sensible sentence.
Some words that alleviate my fear.
Dry every last tear.
But you people just prick me with a needle that picks and picks.
Until I’ve endured a broken mind impossible to fix.
Doctor, you can’t draw a smile across my face.
You’ve never lived in this dark of a place
You don't understand.
It’s already been shot down my gullet.
So how am I supposed to bite the bullet?
Every day I'm battling depression just trying to get my number straight
World on my shoulders so how could I be under weight?
Stopped taking anti depressants, cause they made me feel worse
Gave them a fair shot but I was still hurt
If I get one more prescription from the doctor I'm gonna take him hostage
Tie him to the chair and I'm not talking bondage
Make him take pills daily, see if he feels better
If they actually worked, me and depression wouldn't be together
I'm just joking, I won't take him hostage, I just wanted to rhyme hostage, with bondage
This poem is just me having fun, without a concept
I'm sane but my pen's crazy
Welcome to the new Slim Shady
Sold my soul to the devil, and the return was I'd never try to keep up with that Kim lady
If you're a Kardashian fan and find that offensive
I apologize for you being so sensitive
I was just joking and making words rhyme
Pixie lott will make me her husband, she's just taking her time
Maybe I wouldn't be like this, if I never grew up in care and my family stayed
I was born a genius, and my insanity escaped
Now I'm right on the line if crazy and genius
I refuse to speak or work at your convenience
If you have any complaints please leave a note in "Alex does not care"
I only care about myself now, cause loves not fair
I'm just not there
Anxiety, depression and I'm bipolar, I'm not all there emotionally
Don't take this poem serious, this is just some psychotic bipolar poetry
The mood stabilizer, and
Crushed air.
The hurt of thoughts, for
Our songs of care.
But,
I’m so happy, because
Today, I found my friends,
They’re in my head. And
I’m not gonna crack.
Swiftly now,
Through our veins
It swims.
Anti-depressants,
…Our favorite sins.
Sing and dance, for
Worries have no control.
The drug, the contents, that
We behold.
My devilish mausoleum painted
with bloodcurdling remains
Cobweb gives spine-tingling
in mummified body
Tonyx
The knowledge of necromancy
- unknown X ?
Macabre beasts, tyrannize
a world of exorcism
Anti depressants !
The galaxy grows cold and poor
GoRe, gorE ... GoOOOre
- destroy the planet
Haunted xanadu didilduX
In my kitchen alone on the floor i cry
anti depressants not working
people pulling for my happiness
and yet i am sad because i lack the personality i desire to try
i feel like a victom
in a world where everyone is the fool
in my mind i remember a world i am from and i am a tourist here
and my dejavous i remember the segments of
tells a story
of the time before when i visited this world
where everything was just like this
but i had a different purpose for i was more pure
changing those around me for the next time we did this dance
if that makes sense
sure it sounds narcissistic
like in my psychiatricly ill mind and dreams everything revolves around me
how i believe i have the ability to communicate through telepathy with people
across the seas and have them keep secrets for me
like i am flash gordon in dreams and weaving mysteries
and the bible is a blueprint for everlasting life that revolves around pulling off the
one big april fools day surprise party mind game with me in the middle
if you had my mind and the ability to analyse your experiences
seperate them all
and tell them all as seperate stories instead of one grand intertwining experience
would you understand me
my dreams are memories of alife i once lived
flashbacks
dejavous
traces of something lost in time
the life im living now
im just a detective on the crime scene
looking for the maker of the riddle
who offers the reward for the one who was awake and paying attention
to realise
gods power created everybody and everything on one day
and we are all one machine
I am a broken down angel playing hide and go seek with shadows
learning new ways to love
feeling predicted
by a world that begged for centuries for an angel to fall form the heavens
and im the only one that fell
and im here and there might be consequences for me not being perfect
and me no longer having wings
I'm Level Headed
Electric
Magnetic
Eclectic
Expressions
Magnetic Connection
That Make Head Spins
Like A Exorcist
Using Fire As My Element
As It's Best Essence
Magnificent Aggression
Persistent To Contesting
Any Detesting What's Destined
Ambigous Reflection
Of My Extensive Complexion
Optimistic Stresses
Positive Settings
Inside My Mental Cortex Processing
Directing The Fetish Of My Successes
Majestic Or Impressive Beauty In Me Infested
Acceptance Is Your Confession
For Questioning My Excellence
They Digested Depressants
In Intestines
For Depression
Cause Of Accepting I'm Better
People ask me why I hang
out with Burroughs and Bukowski
they have this picture of me
this image, they assume
knowledge and scholarship
on the subject of ME
Yet those who understand
art, or think they do
know there is more to
Mona Lisa then her smile
Depth of perception, illusion
mirage layers. I roll
with B&B because
I can relate to them
on a unique level. No
I am not an alcoholic
I don't drink no
I don't shoot Junk
I've never done drugs, yet
I can relate to this
loneliness. That desperate
feeling of being trapped
trapped in a crypt or
maze with myself. The
only comfort the other
dead or dying, never
quiet in the same state
as myself. Cold, chilled
the howling of ghouls my
only company. Trying
to be free, get out
of the well, the hole
that we all sometimes
revisit, some never able
to crawl out.
Stuck
down
below
the
depths
of anyones perception
but my own. Trying
to explain situation
is like returning to
a hall of stone statues
unfeeling
uncaring
unnoticed, you
jump into
the pages of "junky
of "Come on In"
and you find you are
not as alone with this
Big Beast, this shadow
of loneliness, that is
always there in your
mind, the back usually,
the symbiosis, the parasite
that uses you like a
whore or donkey.
A literary AA meeting
where we can all relate
to one another. Similarities
sharing can save those
in need. B&B have
helped me see who I am
the best anti-depressants out there.
When I was thirteen years young, I filleted my upper right thigh.
47 times.
In one night.
In one hour.
I wrote suicide notes,
Every night.
I folded them up and put them in a drawer where the hid.
Similar to the thoughts in the back cabinet of my mind.
Dusty and untouched by the ears of any but my own, I rip them apart.
Showing my emotions was always difficult.
But so was showing them.
So I hid my scars, along with the rest of my body. I had become a being of pure collagen.
I festered over myself to become whoever those who were around me had wanted me to be.
I folded under such slight pressure, a gust of wind could have put me away for months at a time.
I was a Petri dish for one of God’s unexplained.
Marching into every day like a virus in a new repertory system, “Hello, here I am!” And “No I don’t think meds will help...”
So I had quit taking them.
The anti depressants.
The sleeping medication.
The meds you take the morning after sleeping medication, to deactivate those sleeping pills, so that you’re at least awake to be numb.
I stopped taking them, because I felt sympathy for factory machines.
They’re told how to run.
When to be off, when to be on, and the second they are off when they should be on, something is presumed to be wrong.
I felt shame inject itself into my cardiovascular. I felt it coursing through my veins.
I saw it
in my hands
the night I introduced my flesh to an eyeliner sharpeners blade.
What they don’t tell you when you start medication, is that your brain senses this new and regular source of this chemical, and stops producing it.
So I, was a literal wreck.
I cut everyone toxic out of my life very quickly.
I took my antidepressant.
I gave myself time to heal.
I figured out what kind of person I wanted to be.
Kind
Forgiving
Brave
And I brought her to life.
Beings of erotica were
at the gates of heaven.
Shell-shocked,the city was becoming political
but people were absconding.
It was global warming
for obscenity. The remoteness
was collapsing and moons
had come in my arms.
Smoking the serrated leaves
and glandular hairs, hurling
yourself on the pathway to estasy
to forgive and to forget.
The blue mercury was
ascending. Anti-depressants were
not working. You don’t own the
phrases. Words were becoming surrogate
for thoughts. We embrace the fall.
Satish Verma
Her heart has never kept love for so long,
because her Ex's never let her.
She's had anti-depressants and tissues
under her study room lampshade.
Even in the brightest of afternoons,
she looked like waking up at 5 a.m.
Life had become too heavy,
she could feel herself sinking to the ground....
But now,
She feels loved by earth and sky,
without holding any emotion back.
It's hard for her to differentiate a Monday
from a Saturday.
She can soar above her challenges,
and experience happiness everywhere she goes....
She's an eagle!