Best Poison Poems


Premium Member Magic

It’s just an illusion
that softly stirs sadness within my broken heart’s
confusion.

I have been tricked.
I'm seduced by the Queen of Tarts -
and pricked.

Voodoo
casts magic darts -
you.

 It’s just an illusion,
 I'm seduced by the Queen of Tarts -
 you.

Love Is a Poison

love is a vicious posion
 that has no comparison.
 the black death, aids, cancer, ebola
 are not even close to its ranpit death toll.
 homicide and suicide follows this deadly
 mind configuring disease.
 Given in the right dosage 
 It is harmless and offer cures to many
 diseases that pre-exist.
 Given heavily, an overdosage offers
 adverse reactions and deadly side effects
 when a person is force to go cold turkey.
 It spikes up jealousy, envy, rage, depression,
 and madness like no other posion on earth it
 spirals out of control.
 The poison affects first the heart 
 when it is first introduced to the body.
 when it is suddenly taken away 
 the posion migrates to the brain.
 where dellusions festor and revenge
 becomes inevitable.
 uncontrollabe rage takes over the mind
 and harbors itself deep into the brain.
 where it grows to the point of hostile takeover.
 the host suffers from great depression that turns
 into suicidal and homicidal tendencies.
 without the proper anti-venium the 
 ability to restrain because weak.
 the drive to live becomes no more.
 Purpose of life
 becomes meaningless.
 death plagues the mind and
 a life or lives are taken.
 blood spilled over passion, desires and love.
 love is a poison
 that noone can outrun.

Premium Member I Force My Drink, Dark Poison To Swallow

I Force My Drink, Dark Poison To Swallow

Chastise me in my deep, darkest sorrow,
young lad of hopes and meandering streams.
I long for relief now not tomorrow,
or next year in lost fields of shallow dreams.

My goblet of pain it over floweth,
into forests of low hanging black fruits.
There I rage in my hurt, ill wind bloweth,
on this soul with misery in its roots.

I force my drink, dark poison to swallow,
cherished within eye of this bitter storm.
Life in tatters, this spirit now hollow,
darkness and wicked cuts the daily norm.

Leave me alone, in this coal black quagmire.
Lost am I, in hell's burning fire.

R.J. Lindley
May 17th 1977

Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line:	
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables:	140
Total # Lines:	17  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	 N/A
Total # Words:	105

Note- AN OLDIE FROM MY PRIVATE JOURNAL.
edited today to meet ten syllable count and 14 verse sonnet form , original longer version stays private...


Poison and Wine

I’ve got poison on my lips
And in my glass, red wine.
I’ve got you in my bloodstream
And this porcelain heart of mine.

I’ve got oceans in my veins
And to sail them, you alone.
I’ve got a blood-stained hurricane
And you wear my poison as cologne.

You’ve got a storm beneath your skin
And then a storm’s what you become.
I’ve got my fire to remind you
Who burned and made you come undone.


See more at: http://dixiepoetry.wordpress.com

Premium Member Lions Tigers and Bears Oh Why

Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh, my.
Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh why?
Lions and Tigers and Bears are not really all that scary to me,
When we read the facts about other animals in tropical forests, and under the sea.

We should change the song to this little tune:
Puffer Fish, Golden poison dart frog and the tsetse fly, oh my.
Puffer Fish, Golden poison dart frog and the tsetse fly, oh why?
These little creatures are as scary as the cone snail which is no cartoon.
The cone snail has a hypodermic-like needle with venom, shaped like a harpoon.
So if you see a cone shell, on a beautiful beach,
Remind yourself it may be alive, before you reach.

If you are in a rain forest, and you see the cutest little golden frog hopping through,
Know before you pocket it that it weighs less than an ounce, but has enough poison to kill you.
The golden poison dart frog could take you out, and nine of your favorite fellow travelers too.  
The toxin, which comes out of her sweet little skin, 
could show you all what a mood she is in.
The puffer fish is clumsy, and slow, and cannot readily hide.
But his toxins are more deadly than twelve hundred spoons of cyanide.
Lions, tigers, and bear, oh my.
Better them than the puffer fish, golden dart frog, cone snail, and the tsetse fly.

Premium Member Intoxicating Poison

Beauty bows and surrenders at her bare feet,
The gold glitters jealous of her glowing skin,
Her bright eyes light embers of passion within,
                             Men yield to her will!

Warriors clang their weapons to fight to die,
Flags with horseman fly, write history again,
While sat in emerald throne, she rules their minds,
                                With potion of love!

Is there a poison more deadly than such love?
A woman to whom the Roman empire bows,
Juice of poison berry* she put in own eyes,
                           He who loves her - dies!

Mighty Caesar or Anthony were like clay,
Their tirades, history fade in her presence,
They lost in war, lost in her love, end by knife,
                           She put Asp to breast!


Sapphic stanza Poetry contest
Sponsor Edward Ibez
Date 08/July/2020

Cleopetra used poisonous  berries or the deadly nightshade juice( medicinal name Atropa belladonna) that yields Atropine which causes dilatation of the pupils. Was used in her time to make the eyes dreamy, innocent and beautiful! Hence the name “Bella = lady, Donna= beautiful)


Grief Is a Poison

Grief is a poison
Invading my soul
Trying to consume me
Like a buzzard
Pecking away at my flesh
Like a fire
Burning out of control

Grief is a poison
Encompassing my life
Gripping my heart
Slowly tearing it apart

Grief is a poison
That I must endure
It is the price I must pay
For having loved you
Death has taken you
I submit to this poison

Poison

The taste of a warm, clear liquid runs through my throat. 
The bitter taste of love, feelings and emotions all in one clear bottle of venom.
How did it end to this, how did i end up doing this?
The taste gets bitter and bitter just like the flavor of you.
The fiery burn is hotter than hell itself, but i continue going on.
With every drink is another memory to forget, with every drop is another story to be forgotten. 
The numbness of feeling no pain gets stronger and stronger, Every action, every word ever spoken completely disappear with just another drop.
I soon forget but that doesn’t make me stop, why?
Shouldn’t the void clear up now?  shouldn’t the emptiness fill up with the venom, filling me up?
Shouldn’t the dark turn to a grey color and shouldn’t i be satisfied with the warm, fuzzy feeling of forgetting?
No, because how could you forget the emptiness, how could you forget those words, how can you turn an addiction to nothing more than a piece of forgotten string. 
How can you turn love into hate, and how can you turn me into a person?
With the month of addiction, the month of trial and error how did i end up being hurt the most? 
How did i end up turning into someone i’m not, how did i turn to the venom for forgiveness and hope.
5 years old, 8 years old, 10 years, 11 years old I swore to myself i wouldn’t.
I swore the poison would never go into my body, and become my only resort to the paradise called hope.
I swore i would never let substance control me.
But the ashy taste of cigarettes and the burn of venom became my best friend.
They became the only thing that let me forget, and let me feel something more than an endless void, a dark hole in my heart and vibrant colors in my mind. 
They became the only thing to look forward to in the day, the only thing i wanted.
It became very clear to me that the venom i depended on was the poison you left me with.
The only thing i had left was the taste of the warm, clear liquid showing me hope..

Poison Poppies

Power plant particled poison

                    People breathing pints per person

                              Pending paramedic pursuit

                                        Pushing poppies past the pigment




                                                                      11/26/17
                                                     Written for contest: "Alliteration"

Premium Member Heat of the Heartbeat For Us

"Do people really change or just the date on the calendar that really changes???" By Poet
 
"In the mists of your eyes,"
I found raw passion. 
As I talk to you,
you "Burn me with your love poison."
I cannot go on like this,
you are tearing me apart.
I hope one day,
"I will find you beyond the stars." 
In a peaceful and loving world,
as we live separately.
Maybe we were not meant to be together,
just sailing on the blue waters.
"Where the sky drifts into the sea,"
where we both can find ourselves.
I will let you go now.
"Leashed to your dusk."

Premium Member Poison

Please spare me, have you no shame? 
pathetic poison prepped,
Underneath those displeasingly desperate diapers .

Premium Member Plucking the Poison Parrot Number 22

The poison parrot is repulsed by me, hates my art, laughs at my poems.
sneers when I enter my imaginary world, pokes fun at it.
She throws roadblocks into my mood zone,
destroys my great ideas as fast as they enter my dendrite alley.

You think you are something! Ha! She laughs. You are less than nothing.
No one will like that.  It is too sassy, too bright, too snotty, too tall, too snarly.
She snips away at me, chopping little pieces off, as I try not to cry.
You are an idiot! She yells at me, her favorite pastime.

Poison Parrot managed to hold me down, away from myself, for years.
She held me hostage in a prison I helped her build; I cowered in a scared way.
Until I met Savior Boy. Savior Boy did not know about Poison Parrot, for when
I was around him, I was confident, witty, sassy, fun, 
out-going and memorably lovely.

He let me do his homework, and he received good grades, 
praising me to high heaven.
The closer we became.  the more self-assured I became, 
assertive genius oozed out of me.
Poison Parrot was fearful now, she saw she was losing her grip. 
She began yelling louder than ever.
“You are an idiot! You are worthless! You are a loser!”

I stopped hearing her.  Savior Boy’s love and respect helped me 
to clip her wings, and tape her beak.
By the time our children arrived, I had re-invented my self-talk. 
I was now being talked to by Sophie,
a dynamic, self-assured, marvelous pixie queen who 
believed in herself, and everyone else.
I released Poison Parrot and let her limp away, 
saving no face at all, after Sophie arrived.



Plucking the Poison Parrot Number 156
Written: 1-6-2019                  Sponsor: Maureen McGreavy

The Poison of Love

Love is a poison that kills the heart and soul, 
It forces the heart to yean for it's own death,
Beating faster and faster as the kiss poisons the body.

Love is a snake that coils through our system, 
Poisoning every organ, 
Crippling the brain, 

Love is the Memories.
They cry the poison,
It bleeds from the eyes of the hopeless,
It causes a summersault of pain that churns the stomach.

It's the gauche walk of the drunken lover,
The jealous want of the free life alone with
The one who poisoned you.

Warped thoughts menace those who stand
In your way from the poison addiction.

Dead and scared is the heart,
Black is the soul
When the poison is cleaned from the mind.

Evil is love and, oh, how it hurts
Never does the poison bring peace,
It is our Death.
Our downfall.
© Sarah Cash  Create an image from this poem.

The Poison

A sorrow and a diminish
That has set before my eyes
He says,"It's nothing to worry about"
Yet he doesn't know I can see with his eyes
His heart
And his revenge
I see his love for a woman
For which it is not me
I see he sees me as a small child
Perhaps a toy for his fun and games
I cry at night screaming
Why must he do this to me every night
My heart crashes to the ground
As the knife before my eyes is his own
Why doesn't he see
The pain and anguish I suffer each day
But he knows me too well
He knows I will never leave him
Because he is the blood that flows through my heart
Yet it is a poison with the scent of death
A poison that knows
I will never leave him
A poison that knows
He is overpowering me
And yet they say till death do us part
Death do us part

Premium Member The Poison Ivy

Silence………A solemn hush
   except  
      for 
         insects
               running
amongst the jade green grass
and the large invasive vines.

Large cypress trees, 
       stately and tall,
throw shadows around me
as I wend my way
along the lonely lanes
of moss-covered, musty-smelling tombs
careful not to touch the poison ivy
or admire the wisteria vines.
 
People do visit here,
for look, bunches of flowers
adorn the place,
emitting scents to try and nullify
the staleness of the resting place.
 
Headstones obliterated by the wind,
makes me wonder who lies beneath.
Was she beautiful and tall? 
      Ugly and short?
What does it matter now?
For all I care she could have been
      beautiful and short.

But some things do matter
in our personal short earthly time.
All that matters is
what we do with our life.
Death holds no sting, really.
   But 
     don’t 
        touch 
            the poison ivy.

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