In this age of greed and weed
~ so much fun to watch America bleed
Searches are common.
God knows what they’re looking for!
Mary-Anna? (we are unisex)
£-s-d? (sorry, we’re all broke)
A sharp wit? (every one here has arrested development)
What do they search for so intimately?
They searched me today.
All they found
was this poem.
Morning Routines KOTABA KOKORO
2/6/7/6/8
coffee
drinking first thing in the morning
while watching the daily news show
the news depressing me
turning it off, drinking coffee
Coffee
Morning delight
Perfect
(1)
fox pudding country--
oh my default performance
at manual bat!!!!!
(2)
profundity dung
preaching lard mop alchemy--
bum in Atlantis
(3)
putting my fortune
into charming herdsman's romp--
a tainted stuntman
(4)
putrefying glut-
ton's another monthly corpse
taunting attainments
(5)
pignut putty fumes
from slothful melting acorn
rot haunt iguanas
my marihuana modified me
in humming faintness
through this catoptric polariscope ,
I extract misdirection
a narcissus could never negotiate
with nonvisual mockery
or serious stillness
will sag .
are you unalterable ?
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 24–30, 2026)
So Instagram is a sham
Everyone seems smitten
With posts about a kitten
Or hosts who hate Britain
Or boasts so badly written
Toasts flam & are all bitten
Goddam is just like spam
Famalam use as a babysitter
Wham bam for any dimwitter
Won’t scram will be a big hitter
Instagram is just glam glitter
Oh please look at me vanity
Narcissist wheeze is insanity
Tease with another profanity
Disease crippling all humanity
Pedants on pews lives fritter
Algorithm queues like twitter
Bottom feeder ruse you critter
Needier travesty tapestry knitter
Greedier fuse lit & now shi*ter
Seedier impropriety just litter
Social media a society splitter
Notoriety trolls scrolls flitter
Anxiety but folks will still titter
Piety for botox you’ll be fitter
Ham it up cash cow AI lie spitter
Kowtow get no views so just bitter
Kapow a scam not some Ashram
Stop cropped photoshopped slop
They cram in a half baked pitta
Instagram is bust and just a sham
I sold my brother's coin collection for a fix/
Police and thieves/
Coke n smack, synth riffs and puffs
Jack McDuff, Sure ’Nuff ’n funk for you/
My life is on freeze, please don't tease
Pop the beat, heroin junkies down the street
Hookers trickin' where we used to meet/
Jazz horn and the abstract truth
The cross is afraid of women's rights/
Stay on the fight, the truth is right
Lo-fi delights while eating shrooms/
Mojave Desert eagle walk
While wearing peyote buttons round my neck
As we talked, a raven's feather flew in her hair
She was high on acid and said
I looked like a shaman dancing with a bear/
Within minutes, a gentle wave comes to nudge your consciousness
Stars appear bluer than you remember
Globus, the lump in your throat is gone
Memories emerge that remained unthought for years;
A strangely lit corridor;
A den in the woods
Back in the present, all is still
Nothing just happened
And it is a gift; a comfort.
The world is tinted back to the colour you understand
You feel your heart beating in your fingertips
Your hands are steadier than you have ever known
Your skin is attached just right
Up to this moment, life has provided you with just the right amount of destruction
To let you Understand.
Past injuries can be observed with detached interest
Sunlight behind closed eyelids glows in reds and oranges
Lay back and experience
A swirlycap high
¦¦¦ masks and metamorphoses of ¦¦¦¦¦ Native Son
¦¦¦
¦¦¦ icy evil ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ravished ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ into madness
trapped ¦¦¦ in violence of a punished self
struggling to break free.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
he fled his name, became the quarry of
his own obsessed pursuit.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ swinging those chicks
in the hot rose and reefer glow.
His injured childhood bullied him.
He skirmished ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ cannibal flowers of the American Dream--
but could not hurt the enemy
powered against him there.
(Blackout of El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz (Malcolm X) by Robert Hayden)
I'm a hollow soul with a needle, no matter if it's herion ice or crack...I don't have a little monkey, I have king Kong hangin on my back... Where's my wife and kids these days, what happened to my job...I haven't brushed my teeth or showered in a week, when did I become a slob....I'm a hollow soul with a needle, my own family will I lie to cheat and steal.... Cause all I care about is getting high, just to change the way I feel...So off to the methadone clinic again, can't shoot herion anymore... cause I can't find anymore veins to hit, and my arms are getting sore...I'm a hollow soul with a needle as I lay here feeling so sick... with restless legs and upset stomach, just craving that hollow little prick...Man that's messed up about Brandon and Randy, both of them dying this year....If I didn't catch hepatitis c shooting up, ide probably drink a little beer....So a hollow soul with a needle kids, is this what you really want to be.... Cause it will take your lives to the darkest hell you're eyes will ever see....
staring down the barrel of a drug so violent
to make the noise that you kept so quiet
everyone’s watching us now, what’s done is done
you can lose your mind
you can keep chasing that high
it’ll never be good enough like you wish it was
the briefest of windows
the life in your eyes got lost in the smoke
you took it from me, but i would’ve given it to you
when we were young, you said you wished that someone loved you
but i do
i love you
i can lose myself too
My empty glass is mocking me.
It laughs at my proclivity.
It led me here and knocked me down.
Another drink and I will drown.
They told me it would be such fun,
But now that it’s all said and done,
I see all that they did not say
As my heart led my head astray…
My empty wallet seems to cry.
The tab has left me high and dry.
I thought I had a little more
But I’ve so much less than before.
A victim of my overreach.
I’m just an old dog you can’t teach.
I fall back on familiar ways.
So, here I am ‘til end of days..
An empty heart, an aching head…
Just help me make it to my bed.
Please do not leave me where I lay;
My foolish choices on display.
They tell me anyone can change.
The ways of grace are awfully strange.
So, that’s what I’ll do come the dawn.
My promises go on and on…
Pick me up and take me home
I can’t make it on my own
I’m laid out upon the floor
I can’t make it to the door
I need a lift so call a ride
And maybe help me get outside
I am stuck here all alone
And I just want to make it home.
I just want to make it home.
I watch and wait
Sitting on the bank
Of the deep green pond
Humming a soft song
The pearls in my body
Begin to set
Now I know
There’s nothing to fret
My mind was a bedlam
My heart askew
Now all is silent
Now I shan’t move
I trail my hands
Along your face
The silhouette of my love
Taking me to that place
You were lost
But now are found
And now my mind
Is safe and sound
The fairies laugh
The lambs doth cry
Because I’ve come
To weep a goodbye
But thou shalt not weep
Not over me
For I am not lost
On the deep dark sea
Not on earth
Not in heaven
But somewhere out there
Where I can hold him again
I used to fight, used to claw, used to care,
Now I just watch as I slip through the air.
Every bad choice like a hand pulling tight,
A lover that whispers, "Come dance in the night."
No brakes, no ropes, no saving grace,
Just the rush of the wind and the thrill of the chase.
Smoke in my lungs, lightning in my veins,
Who needs tomorrow, when you can outrun the pain.
I see the cracks, but I don’t even care,
Each broken promise is perfume in the air.
I flirt with disaster, I kiss my own doom,
Hell’s got a bed and it’s saving me room.
But what if the ground is colder than this?
What if I shatter instead of just slip?
What if the love of the fall is a lie,
And I wake up wishing I’d learned how to fly?
Drug Categories
Definition | What is Drug in Poetry?
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