Best Dope Poems


Dope Boy

You’re selling drugs to your own people; you’re like a terrorist bomb 
                              but twice as lethal.
                     Do you really think it’s a lasting career? You blame “the man” but it’s 
                              you we all fear!
  	You say that you’re making plenty of cash, but are you willing to die 
                              for your poisonous stash?
 	You have so many excuses for destroying the community, but you’re 
                              part of the reason that there is no unity.
  	You think you’re taking the easy way out, you’ll be dead or in 
                              prison without a doubt.
                      I know you understand exactly what I’m saying, I at least got you 
                              thinking I’m hoping and praying.
 	It’s time to start thinking before you act, if you make the wrong 
                              decision there’s no turning back.
                     What happened to your desire to be successful? Your line of work 
     	         is way too stressful!
  	Worrying about getting robbed, killed or busted, your friends and 
           	         clients can never be trusted.
    	Is this a skill you would teach to your children? The revolving door 
   	          turns again and again.
 	Drug dealing skills passed generation to generation, causing 
                               widespread neighborhood and community deterioration.
  	You say: “I have to do what I have to do!” But what are you going to 
  	          do when they come for you?
   	Yes eventually you will get caught; you were so untouchable at least 
  	          you once thought.
 	Is Drug Dealer a title you hold with pride? So what you have cash, 
  	          gold and a nice ride!
 	Everything you own can be gone in an instant, now you’re 
                               incarcerated wanting to repent.
                     Being successful can bring lots of joy, but you’ll never be successful 
                               being a “Dope Boy.”

Premium Member Hope is Dope

I don't know if
God is Dead or Alive.
But I do know that
I'm not yet.
And if you're reading this
Neither are you.
I don't know if
I can change your mind
Or enrich your heart.
But I do know
That even in my pain
And the pain of the world
And all the trials and tribulations
That life throws at us,
We're all in this together.
Whether we like it or not.
Overpopulation is a problem.
Pollution is a problem.
Racism is problem.
There's Global Warming, Greed, Hunger, the Poor.
The list goes on and on ...
Extinction is not a solution aka war.
There are so many religions
With so many languages
That say they have the truth.
We are not alone.
We have each other.
Only we can save each other.
If only we could just 
Give love a chance ...
Will you? Will you
Let love save you?

If only Hope was Dope.
I'd become its dealer.
Give it away for free.
And get everyone addicted!

He Was Both the Dope and the Hero

Doping confessing by  Lance Armstrong

Why tell the truth, when a lie can set you free
The sympathy card,  the court jester: with slumbering tears
The windows wipers wipe the milky tears from his eyes.
He compete, and achieves victory  through deceit

Does a hero cheat, his way to victory?

 A hero was never label a bully throughout history
Spiderman, superman , Robin Hood 
   heroes never confessed their sins
The incredible hulk did a powerful transformation 
Restoring international credibility in prime time; 
                       Time after time
A myth is a myth even in the past, present and future.


Dope Led Me Here To Boast About the Holy Host

DOPE LED ME  HERE TO BOAST ABOUT THE HOLY HOST

I was there when at first you were enraptured
But me, God and The Holy Ghost knew you were captured
I  was the only one who tried desperately to teach you
However my arms are far too short to reach you

So go ahead and shoot the s**t
I don’t mind it even a little bit
But don’t come to me when your skin is crawling
Or when the source of your habit is calling

Don’t ask me to end  your painful sweat
Because you need a lesson you’ll never forget
You have to see what it feels like when you stop
Because every time the powder told you to hop you’d hop
 
Everyone knew I was once like you but I got smart
And I was there when your savior told you not to start
You can begin by being beautiful and rich with greed
But soon your veins will cry out for what they need

They require what Jesus advised you not to try
When I was the only one who gave a damn if you were to die
The Son Of Man begged me to beg you to please say “no”
But you were enraptured and then captured with no whereto go
           © 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~

Premium Member Another Lottery Dope

I just knew it would be my lucky day
The lottery I decided to play
But I had no luck
Not even a buck
Now we're eating beans until my next pay

Ladder of Dope

Its every person for himself, step on & step up kind of world.
That is what we are are taught, at the thought our lips become curled.
At first until it hurts, until we see that there is no remorse for the weak. 
The concept grows stronger with every lash on the cheek.
Burning through our veins as we feel it seep.
Silence is golden, like syrup bitter sweet.

Survival of the fittest its you or its me.These are the values we to begin to teach.
We throw our morals & standards so far beyond our reach.
No thank you my humanity and my sanity that goes along with all of it i would like to keep.
Climbing up the ladder, stepping on those i used to dream with, nah.... that price seems a little steep

No rest for the wicked, shutting your eyes the guilt begins to creep.
I would rather rest my head, gaily counting little baked sheep.
I will keep spreading the love , i shall reap what i have sown.
And then gladly smoke what i have grown.

Blowing your concepts up in smoke.
You try to explain but you choke.
On the things that you have done.
Just to be the one on the power end of the gun. 
It doesn't matter in the end you will be who you are , who you were that's it!
Not who you could have been or should have been. No! only who you are! No ****!

So even if you wanted to break free from the routined tendency.
Just try to stop or alter the cycle of destiny.
You couldn't, wouldn't step out of your pretentious power trip comfort zone.
No you wouldn't blaze it up and blow it out like a cyclone.

Double clutch over your shoulder.
Tell yourself its because you are a soldier.
Pfffftt okay! You carry on with the way it seems you do you these days.
We all know each game has its players and their set of ways.

So you carry on with your step on step up double standard.
I will just fluff the humble in my coat and shy away from slander.
Two sides of a coin, positive to negative its contemporary. 
We are who we are who we are ,meant to be! It is all part of the bigger picture, so puff puff pass its only temporary!


Alluring Poetry Hella Dope

In many ways your being sways,
Ask for better days, seeing what surrounds us as the matrix haze,
Fill ya temples layers with divinely shinning sun rays,
Be gone, go away ignorance that can't comprehend what I’m saying,
Boom it hit cha, is there room for futuristic bangs, bringing in scripture?
Visions scripted and travel here from the future,
Are you sure you're ready?
The word, bringing word up story rhyme’s showing us,
Alluring poetry hella dope,  
Broke and awoken, 
Interstellar knowledge meets you, 
Intrigued,
This leads my being,
Instead of weak minded rubbish,
Change your situation if you need to, 
Wishing?  Me?  No way! 
I’m like the healthy rain water I drink every day, 
With third eye eyesight and vision,
I see the bleeding,
You have heard it before but saw nothing, 
Rushing waves of uncontrollable internal chatter, 
Splatters your brain, lapses and collapses  
Shattering what? I don't know!  
But having flow putting on a show of poetry,
Sweet sounds like whistling birds is my thing, 
Ringing bells I hear, 
Alarms feel like swear words yelling in ya ear, 
Aware of awareness can be obtained, 
I chose to seek what's contained outside the box, 
Lost if you enter untrained, 
As I say, poets playing with words bringing new concepts in different ways, 
Sustainable status as strong as a bus but can crash,
Stash wise wisdom before ya brain becomes mash, 
Words may lash out at you becoming beliefs, 
But they are concepts! Not personal! 
These are written for me and all, 
But fools will always ignore the ballers, 
Worst is the acceptance of never coming 1st, 
I strive to be the best I can be through scripts heard, 
I hit the notes and sounds leave my throat, 
Levels of quantum learning continuing to be a challenge, 
Lesson learnt, I believe I'm the best because I know I am, 
I need to examine my ego and let go? 
Nah!!! 
I'm heading down a road, Is it my path? I don't know,
But I’m still sowing seeds, 
Growing into ancient necessities for growth with rhythm rhyming melody, 
Check out my history, 
A mystery with mass poetic weaponry,
Repping what I invest in, 
I live for this!

Quincy Mac
Date Written: 26.8.2016
© Quincy Mac  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Letter From a Classic Archetypal Dope, January 4, 1960 - Part Two

Part Two

From that moment onwards
Not when the fingerless muscles unclasped
    the indented bones
But from that moment of knowing
   from that very moment of sustenance
That day of human unbelief died unsung
And the depth of human grief buried long
      bestirred a momentous song

It willed within me it were man
   Some kindly soul no less
But in surfeit laid aside
   The biscuits of distaste

It willed within me it were some organisation
   Hurrying to the bed of despair
With the spare crumbs of conversion
   The Holy Infant to succour

I willed then it were a friend
   From want of excuse to teach
His fooling heart to bleat
   Robbed his conscience of a treat

I willed and willed and never
   In my thankless memory
Sat the image of my enemy
   The fulcrum of my singular division

And when that day I delved into my depths
   To find the words of irreproachable thanks
I saw you turn and stamp the light
   Of my begging steps of penance

I turned, rebuffed
  Should I have turned and gone
Away from the stony snarl of thanklessness
Away from all that I saw in that
      One inseparable act
Away from my insurrection
From the illimitable doubt of humility
Far away from all the coquetry of cunning

No man was divided more
   Between himself and self
Between life and cherished death
   Astride on the unwelcome threshold of emptiness

Had I come out of dying
   And yet the chained stick of fate
Was certain to unravel for me
   No less, no more, the vicious sting of hate

And revived with urgency's gratitude
Twice over, reconditely, I was blessed

(Continued in Part Three)
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

Dope Sick Pain

pill pop
once you like it
you can't stop
hit rock bottom
or dead you drop
and under six
buried by twelve
this feeling
it lingers
and laughs
as you dumpster dive
half awake
half alive
quasi brain
dope.
        dope. sick. pain.
can you handle
can you battle the shame
everyone around
has to get a dig in
or a word to add
to this feelingless
            bad. sad. glad
over zealous i am jealous
of the simple life
and all the things i had
are having me instead
it's so good
i can handle it
i'm okay did i stutter when i spoke
it's under control
once elation takes hold
and this slippless
grip i'm under
throws me around
just to catch me
and do it again when will it end
does it end
with these words i say
i don't have to own this
or take defense
you did this i'm sane
i keep lists and records of those i blame
can you handle
can you battle the shame
          dope.
                  dope. sick. pain.
and i'm just so tired
of hurting everyone
around me
the damage done
has left me lonely
and as of now i feel
only
God loves me
don't judge me
just try to understand and love me
for what i want to become
and what i am
it's okay
now i'm better
i've got the shakes
a little sick
under the weather
and once this
physical pain it leaves me
i'm back to the beginning
with no one
to trust me
just love me
hearted holy
and fully
fighting demons
in my brain
can't complain
i did this
i started it
time to finish
not a hurdle
i can jump over bemoan
and dismiss
i know with him 
i am not alone
so God give me strength
to fight this fight
i pray
take this dope
                 dope. sick. pain. away.
and slowly
like honey
i gather my respect
save some money
catch a glance of the life i need
and take heed
give away all greed at full
raging ramming speed
and this selfish taking
try to stop breaking
all these hearts left aching
and praying for my
safety, it overtakes me
and shakes me
God gives me a little peace
time to mourn
to forgive and get on
deal with it
one by one
day by day
til' it's gone
demons slain
calm smooth waves of him
envelop develop
go through me til' i'm new
yet still the same
        dope.
                dope. sick. pain.

Last Crimson Swirl

Drowning in self degradation
Deliberate affliction is exacerbating 
Crystalline facade dulling senses 
Normalcy, forgetting our consensus


Score, decennary years within  
point, swirling under skin
Finality, deaths creeping in
Exodus, my last syringe

Premium Member Rondelet: Bad Guy Dope

Rondelet: Bad Guy Dope*

See what I said
Head strong arm strong ham-strung bike dope
See what I said
Training ground's where villains are bred
Good guys strain up Sisyphus slope
Bad guys dope down Paris and mope
See what I said

*Please see poem posted on December 31, 2012, titled:
"This Bad Guy World (in all seriousness)"

(c) T. Wignesan, Paris, 2013
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

Dope Delirium

I swear I saw a cat;
she held a cricket bat
and swung it at my head;
I danced upon the bed;
and then a dog appeared -
his clothing looked so weird:
a hat and floral dress,
all tattered - what a mess!
And flying cows in jeans,
all eating jelly beans,
were herding singing sheep;
oh, boy, that snow is deep...

for Kai's Delirium contest
© Jack Horne  Create an image from this poem.

With Hope No Dope, Nope

If you keep hope
Alive, you won't take dope
Out of depression, nope.
If you're a dove
Then surely love above
One sweet Sunday
Will fly every way
To give you the peace
That cures disease
And your beloved's eyes
Shall defy rainbow's disguise
In a void sky.

Our gowns of grace
Dissolves traits of disgrace
And our face shines as grease
On metal surface, our smiles stop
The ticking clock, our steps are rhythms
Of love, men pray our steps stop
At there door and cease there hearts rhythms

Free Cee Blue Eyes and Black Flesh Mesh To Cop Dope

BLUE EYES AND BLACK FLESH MESH TO COP DOPE

The smoggy air was thick atop a Harlem high rise
The only thing out of place was a boy with blue eyes
He was a youth in search of peace not found at home
And so the boy with blue eyes was begotten to roam

He ventured forth into a world of darkness to search
Having long ago been abandoned by school and his church
Neither religion nor education could comfort him so he took to the road
Headed afar from the comfort of his family’s hearth and abode

So there stared blazing blue eyes on a rooftop’s domain
As he talked to a man with a way to ease his pain
Thirty dollars and a smile would send him on his way
And so he returned to Harlem day after damnable day

Long Island had raised him but that island wasn’t long enough
And middle class madness left him with sadness to rebuff
Day after day he’d climb the stairs to where they would meet
A tall black man and a boy with blue eyes trying to be discreet

The black man sold his wares by dollars and a bag
The boy with blue eyes fearing his toes with a tag
Because in Harlem death was an indeterminate threat
And a boy with blue eyes had better pay every debt

Sometimes the air was thinner during winter’s cold weather
Yet and still the two faced fear while huddling close together
Harlem was his teacher and a rooftop was this junkie’s incubator
And writing this poem is blue eyes still with a habit forty-three years later
  © 2012….copyright PHREEPOETREE.....~free cee!~

Hope: Not Dope

The way forward is never straight
So you must be strong enough to be great
The battle still goes on; you’re not late
So you must make a move; don’t wait

Everyone was born to be a spinner
It only takes time to be a winner 
Every means surely gets thinner 
It takes endurance to have a dinner 

The battle is not for the paramount
Everyone adds up to the final amount
You must stand a part in this count
The cost of the crown never favors a discount

I have admitted the fight is never stress-free
That’s why to give up, I’d always disagree
I have faith and it endures my living hope
That’s why I’d favor my hope to never dope

At the tails of the ancient characteristic rope
We keep joining the head of the new rope
So we fear not the wicked, we don’t dope
We stand to fight and win as we always hope
© Simon Amu  Create an image from this poem.

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