Best Song Drug Poems
The beauty of lies,
Between your eyes.
The song of drugs
I find in your veins
Is never ending.
The stream replies to a song of redundant tides,
How will I hide all that you have brought to me
In these gifts of disease?
Let’s sing them out in melodies.
The flow is mixed in nicotine, and a pinch of coca
Leaves. A variety of alcoholic drinks you
Gave to me, with a smile that just whines
“Please.” THC and so many leaves, why
Couldn’t you love me?
The hand of a white goddess touches mine. I will
Address all that you have meant in these eyes.
The pain of your subtle lying smile, it
Stings,
Till I cry.
Life is only a jar of ashes,
And ha-ha,
The body as a temple…
Let it burn,
For the lies of Christ
Are dull and pathetic,
I’d rather prefer
My long drawn out,
Season in Hell.
Form:
I wanna live again
be an ageless punk
Have meaningless sex
before I get too drunk
I wanna dance on the hood
of a 'Luxury car'
Right after a fight
at the neighborhood bar
All my friends in a frenzy
Black spots in the memory
Drinking a handle
thru a bottle of Pepsi
I wanna live again
I wanna rage till dawn
Waking up unsure
of what drug's I was on
I wanna make out
and take shots from the body
of every girl in the place
who think's I'm a 'Hottie'
Let me surf on the crowd
Scream a kareoke jam
something real heavy
so every body can Slam
Breathing and sweting
at a random wedding
Lip-locked with the 'Bridesmaid"
before the Sun~is~setting
I wanna live again
I wanna risk it all
Exist on the edge
and intentionaly fall
I wanna jump out of plane's
and wrestle with gators
Sleep with the enemy
as a personal favor
I'll take (1)for the team
another shot-for-the-road
What ever it takes
to stop feeling olde
No more sleep
"I can rest when I'm dead"
From now on it's just SEX
every where but the bed
From the ceiling to the wall
gunna 'Moon~Walk' till I fall
Add a twist to my fixations
and formulate a close call...
He is a good boy one bad.
he Use to be all about the farm,
now he is all about the sex,
he use to be bout liking you for you
, now he about like you for what your doing with him
. he use all for a slow song to get close,
now he is all for a faast beat song the bumpin and grinding
, he use to be all about his family friend and home
, now he is all about sex, drugs and parties
Form:
A corner lamp post is home
a fiery steel drum keeps 'em warm
eyes that never say goodnight
cigarettes that hold 'em tight
up the nose in the arm down the hatch
drugs and alcohol just dont match
everyones looking to be free
feel'n cool such a fool
in there eyes the silence cries
all these people walking the streets
so many distorted visions
the cry of help just echos on
so many say escape is impossible
a no way out street situation
misguided and misinformed
street life survivor
all the vibes are right
her fish net stockings look outa sight
the grin of your appetite
life and death penetrate the night
teenage runaway and so afraid
used and abused pregnant or confused
the list goes on 'n on
on the streets trust is rare when your the shadows prayer
When she walks around this Rocky Mountain downtown;
With a pretty-in-pink style Mohawk;
She doesn't look like an eighties version of a bad hangover.
While she obviously indulges in ballet classes,
As well as the occasional psychedelic drug that circulates in her system.
These days the drug users prefer rubbing alcohol mixed with ammonia.
"Nail polish remover, anyone? Champagne with a hint of methanol?"
Welcome to our party!"
That's their raison d'etre.
Which of these should really be the love that dare not speak its name,
Instead of Morrissey's version of a fatal goodbye kiss man-to-man?
I feel like calling out to her:
"Nice leg warmers! They complement your ballet flats beautifully!"
I have a feeling that she wouldn't strike me.
Though I would get a dose of that lovable, yet snarly, punk attitude:
At least in this town, yuppies in suits haven't tried to take over.
The delivery of a punch won't feel as bruised;
As a heavily insulted heart that burdens the walk;
With an extensive, intricate system of weights.
This electrocution-in-the-making shortcuts the system;
That holds us up to the premise that we are victims.
Not exactly in the nicest way:
When image has become the definition of an inner deity;
No introspection for resolution solves this mystery.
When instinctive pleasures win over self-respect;
That candy stolen from a baby bites back.
So at least this girl has won a war:
Maybe she won't last the battle.
She refuses the enslavement of the fashion world;
She takes over her own identity:
No servant to the establishment yuppies or the fashion divas.
Wonder Drug
Sirtuins, an enzyme I think, has the ability to rejuvenate
human cells; but it is very expensive to produce. Hence
only the elite can use it and thus live to be 500 years.
People shrink after two hundred years the fortunate
will be as tall as five years old and demand door bells
and light switched placed on the skirting board.
We, the mortal, will have to bend down as we always
have done to the powerful who are related to divinity.
Lottery in the future will not be about money but win
the right to be injected with Sirtuins. But the winners will
not join the elite, but alone face the horror of watching
family and friends get old and die out while they continue
to live in a world that is and echo of yesterdays anguish
devoid of laughter, love and newness.
Its hard to figure out
why the world is so cold
Why theres kids carrying guns
thats only ten years old
Suicide bombers
that raise the death toll
& a government that banks
off the drugs that get sold
Meanwhile global warmings
melting down the north pole
We need to rise to the occasion
if we wanna reach a goals
Petro's becoming more valuable then gold
& the american dollar continues to grow low
It just dosen't make since
why its so hard to make dollars
Whatever happened to the plans
thought of by our founding fathers
The economy's getting slaughtered
still people dont have a hand to offer
The music steals me to somewhere far away
Its somewhere beyond beauty where I wish to stay
Fell it flow in me and feel it go
The feeling is only to the ones that know
The song enters the brain to the mind
The child inside kills for what it finds
It flows to the body and I move to its beat
Slowly falling down to the floor after my feet
Becoming one with it in all ways
Following it in my soul's never ending maze
Now things are becoming clear
Everything has become complete here
There is nothing else left but what is now
I would wish it to be like this forever, if I knew how
Slowly I come down from my heavenly place
All that is left is an empty space
Like a painful drug all it will do is call
It will rip me apart like a dull rusty saw
All I can do is live in my colorless haze
Until that song once again plays
Form:
reasons for the 6 oclock news
on the look out for the missing children
the song and dance of the slaughter
never understood my own perverse innocence as i felt watched over
syndicate of music, drugs, blackmarket sex
Royally intimidated
mental health overwhelmed overthrown
4 million people listening to your pentagon remover
underneath this umbrella
a better song and dance
waiting for the moment we hear the stories of the found adults
their pieces fit
a lifelong torture of the underground celebrity
the sickness they endured and understood
so you would remember and want to come home
The hit single "Just close your Eyes" happens to be the best rock song of all time. It was
performed by Waterproof Blonde, but now the song's covered by Story of the Year. I can
listen to "Just Close Your Eyes" two ways, and it's the entrance theme song for WWE
wrestler, Christian. When I listen to this song, it's like I'm in a depressive state, but
minus the drugs and the alcohol. But it's also as if I'm going to a rock concert at the
Roxy Theater in Los Angeles, California, on a Saturday night. I couldn't buy the song from
iTunes and I didn't listen to it on the radio, but "Just Close Your Eyes" can be heard on
YouTube.com, grooveshark.com, and playlist.com. No matter what way I listen to this song,
either Story of the Year and/or Waterproof Blonde, "Just Close Your Eyes" is, and will
always be, the greatest song since Alter Bridge's "Metalingus."
i felt pain
like my heart beat would never be the same
ur beauty's just in a frame
thinkin about u as im just sayin ur name
im not sayin that im caught in the game
im just sayin that i want u to be my burning flame
escape the fame
that way are love wouldn't be the one to blame
ur just that one that im trying to gain
every conversation we had was just and endless chain
thinkin about u is just insane
baby let me just explain
that ur that one that is cot in my brain
i just want us to be in the same lane
somethin i wanna hold on to that i can maintain
ur my drug ur my cocaine
so baby i just wanna know if i can be ur mane thang
I am not asking for much during my moment
Just a little breathing room, let me vent
There are corrupt politicians, crooked cops, greasy palms
Honesty and truth for once is what I really want
I want to know what's inside you
I bet you are mostly black and blue
Religious fanatics claiming human lives in the name of Allah
Determined by who draws the shortest straw
Oil rich nations with their dirt poor starving people dying
Blind eye from our own government, homeless, President lying
Meth labs, crack houses, drug dealers are becoming more common than
convenience stores
Police raid, blue light special, all this action is right next door
The neighbors don't socialize, so they haven't got a clue
I guess everyone's house is a little black and blue
It will be nice to see a fresh face in the oval office
Maybe stop the governors with hookers and all the other lawlessness
We all keep pushing for a better tomorrow
Lock up those who steal, help those who beg and give a break to those who
borrow
Cut through the chase, hone the blade, keep it true
But there are no real answers to prevent the black and blue