Junkie Poems | Examples

Closest Being A Junkie

I dragged this cig, my brain went far gaga,
The same cigarette brand that brought me joy;
A puff, and I slipped into a pooh-Bah,
One short drag became enough to destroy.

My legs wobbled, the world around me spun,
I heaved heavily, yet relief slept still;
The fun I sought had never yet begun,
In its stead, I commenced a mental drill.

As I puffed a new cig to chase a fad,
Deeper curiosity did arouse.
How can a mere cigar torture so bad,
A dream taught me the thought in intense drowse.

Later I learned the cig was laced with crack~
The closest I came being a junkie;
That pal later picked madness in bump's track,
Why I never became a crack flunkey.

Premium Member News Junkie

News Junkie
Miracle Man
2/9/2024

My day’s start early with quiet time, then news,
political persuasion always determines News slant.
When I switch the channel I get contrasting views,
I promise to quit watching but the truth is I can’t.

Liberal or conservative, both express their opinions,
and often neither gives the truth much thought.
We’ll believe anything because we’re their minions,
I should just stop watching but in truth I cannot.


I guess watching news
is far better than making news.
Tom

Premium Member Junkie

He tries to ignore her,
but she drags him close.
He tries to resist her,
but he needs it to pacify his pain.
His head aches with loud vibrations,
antagonised by her absence.
She is his pimp - he is her willing slave.

Like a fish caught on an angler's bait,
she reels him in, to devour her catch.
He knows her lethal reflection,
but he needs to tame the beast.
The needle tears a purple hole,
but he is now a unicorn flying high,
soaring among eagles,
free from the chains of tolerance.

Temporarily she satisfies his lust,
but once the buzz dies,
his bleak veins throb for more.
A bruise remains and that is all people see.
His face is gaunt, 
his eyes yellow and his frame now frail.
Nobody makes eye contact nor do they trust him.

With their ignorant judgmental eyes,
they fail to see, what he really needs is to be saved.
Wounds are healed by love,
addiction is made worse by hate.


Premium Member Keeping Pill Junkie Happy

Pill junkie was born in the closet in May
He popped out yelling “Hi neighbor” the very first day.
We did not know how to respond or what to say.
What do you eat? I asked him, socializing away.

I eat up all the pills you were throwing away.
This was easy cooking for me, so I said, “please stay”.
He has consumed all the old pills of Jeff, Johnny and Jay.
He tells me he loves naps in the closet, sleeping away.

We wonder what will happen next Saturday.
By then pill junkie might not have any reason to say.
Because he is now devouring the pills of sweet Grandma May.
But if we cannot find any more pills, will he have a reason to stay?

Premium Member Adrenaline Junkie: Seadna-2

Adrenaline, he’s no stranger;
danger is his middle name.
Don’t fan his flame; you’ll just succumb,
get maimed in some little game.

----------

Another Séadna Mòr (shay’-na mor): xxxxxx(xa)|xaxx(xxb)|xxxbxx(xc)|xbxc(xxb)

https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/seadna-mor/

Embarrassed to say, I had it correct, posted, edited, and goofed the first line. Don't we all do that? probably not... Fixed now. Deviously difficult to me.

Premium Member Habit

Hourglass of spider’s ink
upon your lower back.
Your love, a kind of love 
that’s kind of an attack.

Smoking skin pressed onto my own
in messy overtones of kisses.
Stole my love before I could escape.
Less like love, more like rape.

Introduced me to those words 
I never used before
Drugs	       paraphernalia
kit   	cut 	whore    
****   score     more		

words I never used before

Sometimes I get chills.
You say, “probably coming down with something.”
I say, “Yeah,”			

“you.”


Junkie Haven

The convenience store
Comes to life under the moon
A junkie's hangout

Premium Member Flunky To a Junkie

Chunky,
clunky,
flunky,
junkie,
you're a chunky, clunky, drugged up tool,
flunky to a junkie, and a fool.


(Tyburn)


08,08,2019
Your Turn For A Tyburn Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: charles messina

Sports Junkie

sports make my voice sing but basketball makes my heart stop

Junkie

i see you again waiting for the man
dirty dollar bills crumpled in shaky hands
your veins would collapse if they weren't running sand
high risk life, low life demands

unaware with a vacant stare
of your surroundings, like you even care
there's only one reason as to why you're here
and it's not to admire yourself in cars passing mirrors

with the man running late the time ticks lunatic fringe
not knowing he's laying dead in some junkies den
the life style he lived finally did him in
and you with no idea will soon be following him

because the life of a junkie is no life at all
one step from the ledge with the needles drawl
milk blood to make sure you get it all
one last time before last call...

Cry of a Junkie

She cries herself to sleep each night
That is if she is able to get a shoot
Up her vein of the loathsome drug
She wishes she not so dependent

Her boyfriend introduced her
To the drug and being all mellow..
She said yes thinking it an act of love
She was in college then now no more

She recalls the good upbringing she had
Her father was a man of the cloth..
Her mama a dedicated medical nurse
They had laid her a good foundation

Her boyfriend had subsequently 
Dumped her asking her rudely..
To henceforth pay for her shoots
She cries herself to sleep 

Maria her parents had named her
The irony of that chaste name..
Leaves a bitter taste in her mouth
Maybe tomorrow will be better

The miserable dreaded cold turkey
Is relieved by the euphoria of the drug
Only to be replaced by pangs of guilt
Then its trip down hill with no cushions

Oh Bible Junkie

Oh Bible Junkie
Proceed with caution
The needle sinking deep
Remind yourself
Or hire someone
To point out
Combustible
Degenerative verses
With euphoric illusions
Those that lead
The flock, yourself
To turning
Heavenly tricks
For ecumenical devotions
Remain cognizant
Remain real to thyself
Thy kingdom will come
But only by answering
The call
To those, to which
You're grounded.

(7/27/06)

I'M a Junkie

Addicted to somethin’ 
My thoughts no longer own
A fish tank full of submarines 
Swimming schools of piranhas
Waking up soaking wet
Sharks swimming in my sweat

Sleeping on the cold floor
Petrified to close the door
Or open when closed...nightmares 
Circling ahead...flocks of aeroplanes 
Like vultures to a carcass 
Feeding on my burnt ashes

Overindulgence in fantasy
Thoughts amputated from reality
Monotones ringing in my cranium
Press the button to a new continuum
To end this paralyzing paranoia
That feeds my insatiable insomnia

Junkie

The tablet feels heavy, as I carry it about 
My skin elastic with nothing but plastic
I slowly see my hair as a device for me to skirt
The needle screams at me to be desert
Ah the magic of substance flowing in my veins
The rush of the electric current that harbors me insane 
I want this madness every day
I chase, I run, all for the fix,part of my fun is seeing the car do the twist
Baby I love you and will never let you down
You are my soul,my provider,everything in life 
The life of a junkie is always be  loyal to your  wife

The First Junkie

The bleakness of the night sky offers little relief
I cannot share your optimism or belief
    refute your nefarious cries for help and trust
i was hard at work, i did turn up my sleeve

  my heart resonates like a broken pendulum
I have never felt such a conundrum
  i appear as a twisted sort of rabid monk
i know not who you are or where you come from

  my swelling has become viscous and blue
my fridge never had pictures that I drew
  can your pin prick offer me any escape?
my eyes are black and leak with the morning's dew

  without you I sweat and shake and freeze
mouth only manages a morning wheeze
  with no shame now, i actively search for you
I will never again feel the summer's breeze

  I bend and purge judas' last supper
rather you have been some sort of upper
  skin withered and burnt like grilled meat
you surely have become my only brother

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