Making repetitive decisions.
Stumbling once more
into this drug-addicted trap,
lost thoughts begin bleeding out
on paper.
While those forgotten run overtime
beneath the subconscious,
in attempts to illuminate
what my eyes cannot hide.
This never-ending shift
in the revolving door of emotions and morality
leaves me without breath,
somehow still breathing.
Cut open is my flesh,
as rogue thoughts crash like waves upon the shore.
Restless is my mind,
while eyes lock in a steady haze.
The dryness in the air
causes blinking eyes to wonder
how most lose their sight.
Not many stop to ponder.
To live faceless
in a blinding world.
Hearing the pain
in another's song—
we must be related.
Having poured out all of oneself,
questions remain.
Was it ever love?
Or always lust?
Voicing these realities
becomes like a temperature
too hot to touch.
Unable to unsee
what has become fragile,
while I became careless.
Lord,
help me shed this ego-atrophy.
Like a second skin I'm desperate to peel away.
Undoubtedly knowing this is the final fray.
Don't leave me, I beg you. Lord
Please don't give up on me yet.
I've made repetitive decisions,
stumbling once more in this drug addicted trap.
I see the line you drew in the sand.
While the wall of the world is built sky high.
I'm teetering on the edge.
I pray you don't send me Lord, right over the ledge.
So many unfinished poems, linger behind my lips.
You saved me in my darkest nights, trapped in the abyss.
You found me when I lost myself,
right in the nick of time.
Humbly asking you My Savior
just one more day.
Numb.... Lonely
Staring at the same gloomy rain
dripping down 2 different
window panes
over 300 miles away
Feeling alone & ashamed,
full of regret because of how
we hehaved
but not giving up
bc this Actual, Magical,
One of a kind love
is just too unfathomable
to not crave
its right there out of our reach,
our plans, wants & goals
so easy to speak
but walls of fear deadlock life's gears,
and we rolled backwards
without even realizing we were
so far gone,
my dear
we did this together
but you gotta honestly tell me
if climbing back up w. me by your side
is going to be too heavy
I can only love you if you let me
I need you just as much,
You're the only one that gets me
and accepts me,
and my damaged beyond repair, crazy drug addicted brain
we drive eachother insane
but it could be so much different
we can be happier than ever
its an uncontrollable animal instinct
I wish that whenever you got mad
you'd just shut up & kiss me
before the bullet filled words
rip through my heart
& every single one hits me
like im marked with a bulls eye
all we need is stability,
but the chaos continuously emerges instantly
Need another hit of my poetic fix
Eyes red bleeding from reading
I am a little better or worse
Than a drug addicted person
Could be me but I like pipe dreams
Poetry streaming
Kisses are from the ceiling fan
Blowing on typing hands
Could this be my red romance
Fact or fiction driven by diction
In my mind I am on an tropical island
Smiling wild and fuschia free in blue breeze
Could this be unhealthy this retreat
From the ruby reality
Of taxes life lows and highs
Meditation is going pretty good
Except for the music in my head
I hear it always despite no radio
Or streaming not on the pc
Then it comes to me
Another poem or song or story
Giving me purpose and esteem
Am I pompous for needing
The black bird of a word
To set my caramel spirit free
I say that I am addicted
More like afflicted by creating
And if you are my tribe
That is a positive thing
I do not like the idea of abortions, naturally,
But then I do not like to see abandoned kids
I am a firm believer in equal opportunity,
Yet, I see so many in our populace on the skids.
In my lifetime I’ve watched children suffer,
And I have thought better never to have been
Than be jerked up by a drug-addicted monster
Or a sexually abusive, ingrate…what a sin!
I’ve read of little kids forced to live in a box
Slowly dying from abuse, neglect, and starvation
For them no golden opportunity ever knocks
And I ask, can this happen in a civilized nation?
Seeing pictures of their ravaged little bodies
Surmising what hell they must’ve endured
I say to myself, “better not to have been born”
Than to have lived briefly, then forever obscured.
But I will never forget them, some I even taught
With only an inkling of what their life was like
As a child I, too, was abused and I never forgot
Better not to be born than die an unwanted tyke.
Written June 27, 2022
[I have conducted funerals for unwanted,
throwaway children who committed suicide!]
It saddens my heart to see
Someone’s precious child
Now grown, drug addicted and broken
Spirit and soul defiled
Existing only for the next fix
Unkept and homeless
Feeding their habit
Earning money doing tricks
Sleeping on filthy streets
Scrounging through disgusting trash
Frantically searching for anything
To convert into cash
Such a desolate existence
Decaying body ,mind and soul
Escaping their inner turmoil
In a deep black hole….
A sweet little girl, possibly four, maybe five years old
Wearing a faded blue dress torn along the seam,
Living on the street with her drug-addicted parents
No chance at really experiencing the American dream.
It was clear she had never known a normal child’s life
She seemed perfectly content playing on the street,
While uncaring people constantly ignored her folks
Pretending not to see the little girl with her dirty feet.
She touched my heart although I could do little to help
I came back later with sandwiches and a teddy bear
They seemed so grateful…yet, I had done so little,
I brought a bright blue ribbon for the little girl’s hair.
She stood staring at me as I walked slowly away
She was still holding the blue ribbon in her dirty hands,
She could not see the tears rolling down my cheeks
But, I pray the time will come when she understands.
NINTH PLACED WINNER
written September 4, 2021
for "The One Who Touched My Heart" poetry contest
sponsored by Regina McIntosh
They laid her in a tomb, only the bagpiper and I.
The Scotsman, with his pipes, played a dreary dirge,
I stood tall, no tears just intense anger.
A haggard breeze flowed around the verdant trees,
Ruffling the dreary flowers that adorned her tomb.
A hit and run: Dead on the spot.
A mad drug addicted driver who killed my lovely wife.
How can I forgive? She was my love.
Thoughts ran amok in my head.
No tears, just revenge.
Seething with anger I bought a pistol.
I searched for him in his stuffy cabin.
Found him in stupor on his smelly single bed.
Took out my weapon, checked bullets.
The smell in that cabin made my stomach lurch.
Could I kill him in cold blood?
Vengeance is mine, said the Lord.
Angrily, I left and threw the gun in a deep lake.
I could only hold back my tears.
17 August 2021
Holding Back Tears
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Hope and despair are partners,
try and figure it out,
passion in an endangered soul
that chose to give me no name.
Perhaps she needs none, who knows?
For she brought chaos to my heart,
upset my strictly precise ways.
Stars falter at her glacial glance
and the sun hides its shine in shame.
Yet I cannot bear to be
without her luscious intoxication,
like a delirious drug-addicted creature,
that knows he'll never survive, for
to be with her is a lingering death,
to be without her is eternal hell.
The Law is not Above the Law
By Franklin Price
05/30/2020
The law is not above the law
Cops were never meant to be
Although their lives are on the line
While protecting you and me
Every stop or high speed chase
Could put them in the ground
The bad guys get the first shot
When the lawless are around
The drunk and drug addicted
And criminals by the score
Object when apprehended
And bring violence to the fore
Cops supposed to take it all
And never lose their cool
Not supposed to fight back
When assaulted by some fool
Not everyone can be a cop
Not those, who are inclined,
To assault those they're arresting
With deadly forces on their mind
God forbid they kill someone
This thoughtless one in blue
Or they are killed because of it
Because of how they view
No one is above the law
Not those from either way
The lawless, or the lawful,
Who violate the laws, must pay
Those who look the other way
Refuse to prosecute the law
Should also be accountable
To be the law is not a draw
This month she's a singer
in public lewd and crude
pushed into the limelight
and usually half nude
Next month she'll be a model
a drug-addicted child
in and out of courtrooms
another youth gone wild
The latest greatest train wreck
is just another face
she'll rise and fall so quickly
then another takes her place
Each new one tries to outdo
the ones that came before
with even bigger scandals
and troubles by the score
Just 25 and burnt out
used up and thrown away
disposable celebrities
come and go each day
And tragically for some
they lose their very lives
they're just another headline
on which the public thrives
Created in a board room
churned out at record pace
the latest greatest train wreck
has come to take your place
What do you think happens when you die?
I asked the sobbing 7-year-old.
She could not quit though.
She was in full-blown
keening, wailing,
shoulder shaking,
lip quivering,
keening, and screaming now,
sobbing mode.
Her very caring, loving, unselfish parent
Had told her about the death of her
Great-aunt Rose, whom she had
Never met who
Passed
In
1965
this morning.
It was the fifth time I had
seen her this week as
her great-great grandfather
had passed in 1972, 74, 78,
81, and 85.
Her mother, was the best
story-telling drug addicted
parent in the world
apparently,
and knew
what she
needed to
do to keep
lilttle one in
check.
She sat pondering her minds broken into places
sifting through the files of a worn out relationship.
Why was it soooo hard to write thoughts into sentences
on those days with the rains sweeping through the pain
of such craziness? She knew it wasnt because of her
laziness. Maybe, just maybe, She needed to pray on
bended knees for some kind of reprieve and a storm
clearing release because of the melancholic drama of
just being with drug addicted scenery, not seeing, but,
actually seeing the lies in his bleeding with his wallet
bare and cleanly sniffed out by hiding his feelings.
She sat there..... .reeling.....with mind numbing feelings.
If you keenly gaze upon the world of today,
you'll realize we're existing in a world where the things
you care about have been thrown out of the window,
and dark results have been swept under the carpet.
Legal institutions are breaking the law;
Children are parenting their drug-addicted parents;
Globalisation is turning to deportation;
Media sends wrong information often times;
Privacy is being sacrificed at the altar of the public;
We're slowly destroying Mother Earth,
which nurtures and nourishes us.......
Every virtue of common good that we're supposed
to hold tight and protect, is slowly falling off
from our grip......
Date: 05/03/2017
We never meant
to say sorry
it was more of a smoke filled
tiring of breathless gills
The morning wakes us all
all too soon
cats on tables
and cigarettes without a flume
Time tells
all of us will die
hard to be black and white
tend to shoo away little smiles
Time has a great grace
of wage and handfuls
of terrible mistakes
I heard today
he shot him
little sleepy town in minnesota
been dreaming of death
and how sad that from now on
the man i once knew
will never see daylight again
what is wrong with us
society is a
filth of regret
might fly back and visit him in prision one day
just to say hello
mistakes of others make you feel desperate
no use in making amends
talked to my dad tonight,
gonna send me some money for Christmas
i can see his lights,
and the brilliant display
how i miss them,
unlike no other
my dad, my sister and of course
my drug addicted brother
aint to late to go back,
but for what?
just maybe only for them cause no matter what happens
my family is my heart, my soul, and my kin.
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