Long Addict Poems
Long Addict Poems. Below are the most popular long Addict by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Addict poems by poem length and keyword.
the moment- I saw my love it was a moment frozen
it was a spiritual experience and I was swept away
I abandoned myself to this perfect experience
with obsessive musings- like an addict needing a fix
it is more that his physical attractiveness
I am lost in a forever, ever love
being with him is like falling into a crystal clear stream
where his kisses and words wash over me like waves
I am an emotional wreck- who cannot sleep or eat
my heart beats faster when he is even just talking to me
when, we were apart, I am full of longing and lust
falling in love is very bizarre- it just creeps up magically
our life's are entwined and we are deeply bonded
coated with desire- I long for his touch on my body
the stroke of his hand on my hair, his breath
he is my lover, my friend and my forever, ever
we never crowd each other, we both have a life
but when we are together the world fades
he took a weeping girl- who was me and I healed
and holding me in his arms he whispers his- forever love
___________________________
February 24, 2020
Added After Judging 2/28/2020-
Poetry/Free Verse/On Love
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1229-055-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the contest, Free Verse On Love
sponsor, Lu Loo
Second Place
My Honor
In this box, you’ll see a variety of colors that hold high importance to me ; they represent the hurdles I’ve overcome and the achievements I’ve won . I’ve walked along a treacherous road paved with horrendous battles . Once a broken soul shackled and chained to the disease of addiction that created so much tension and friction in my life, most people questioned if I would live or die. Die from a disease that brought me to my knees.
A disease that took everything away from me, my job, my home, and my sanity
It was blasphemy . This road was filled with blood , sweat, and tears.
I was fueled with fear . But these tears have watered the seeds of unhealed trauma and began my journey of healing as soon as I allowed myself to start feeling .
There has been a continued feud within myself that only an addict would know
I’m grateful I gained some hope to create a place for love to grow.
The battles I’ve fought and the pain I’ve carried remind me of all the loved ones I’ve had to bury
This box is a symbol of my triumph and resilience, proof that I am more than a negative statistic. By recovering out loud, I offer a message of hope to others suffering in silence.
My broken wings were mended, and self love was transcended .
Once a dope fiend is now a woman with self-esteem
My father didn’t think I would live past 18. The wave of self-doubt crashed over me like a tidal wave, and recovery became my life preserver to save me from myself . I hold the privilege of being a recovery addict today, with 5 years clean, once a homeless, reckless, broken, lost soul who fought to survive, now holds gratitude for being alive . Addiction is a generational curse in my family , that's tormented so many of my loved ones . But my story has been rewritten, I’m no longer living in self-pity, but I have a heart full of gratitude and a mind with integrity. I’m continuing to honor all my angels from above, thank you to the program that taught me how to love.
?
?
yes i admit it
that yes i'm an addict
give me something to cling to
and i'll take it to the limit
no i'm not proud
of some of what i've done
hard some days to keep the count
but definitely more than once
and now my latest addiction
seems to be poetry
some have even mentioned
that's not a bad place to be
are they too in denial
are they themselves too far gone
not knowing all the while
they're also playing to its song
with anything once you lose control
and it has control of you
the deeper you dig the hole
the more you tend to lose
to me it's a constant battle
i'll be fighting till the end
because yes i am an addict
and poetry, my latest addiction
He grew up a fat kid
now a gym addict
can’t play sport though no good at it
thinks he’s worked hard while you had it natural
when really he’s doing what you did when at school
but it’s just the weights protein shakes
and muscle relaxers for him
not the competitive contact sport constantly injuring
it’s just losing fat and building muscle up
he's finished growing too so he's building pressure up
causing problems that see life took
in vain training to have a superficial look
getting big without cardiovascular
turning overweight fat to muscular
the poor heart and lungs straining
at a body to big to maintain
as they don’t really adapt to the new muscles he trains
a pressure on the respiratory system cannot remain
he's got the heart and lungs of a fat kid
building up muscle stack an obsessive habit
cus the foundation is layered during puberty
after which heart and lungs don't grow usually
so forcing the heart too far when as huge as he
fuelled by fat kid issues making it about how he appears
he has a jealousy if you were healthy in your younger years
and now he appears to be healthy
but the heart’s saying help me
it’ll hang on seemingly ok
but when it goes wrong,
that’s your life mate
have a nice day.
Being healthy starts young with the lungs and the heart
if you’re older these two the most important parts
build yourself up as strong as your heart is
or be someone too young to have since departed
I am on predizone or nitrachrome or some other such for my asthma kit.
Who invented asthma anyway, and why? It helps absolutely no one my friend!
A result is that I’m a drug addict this week; and I don’t like it the least little bit.
I don’t do well on predizone or Midol or Science Diet or booze of any kind.
My old boss, also my best friend in the world used to say, “Don’t have a fit.”
“Take a pill, stay at home.” She would continue. “ We can do without your mania today.”
It took 4 sleeping pills and a hammer in my head to let me sleep 2 hours last night,
It’s 8 a.m. and I already know my husband Joe’s idea of a good day is to stay out of sight.
I never knew angst to be so devilish a thing
Taking me from a million clean years,
To ABC house of booze, because,
My blood money was abused by him
Wrecking the Kia Sportage I was strapped in
A passenger, pained to point of surgeries.
And on a rainy morning he swore resenting
Driving me to physical therapy,
And before the settlement, made his request:
"...Do my bathroom floor like yours."
And half of what I got was to be his
He carved such rules I broke in time
And kept secret what figures were mine.
But, lo and behold I sat pondering, counting pennies
And the devil drove me to think...
I should drink to that
All I got, and shared, and fail to stash.
Who knew Canadian whiskey would whisk me to detox?
And I, a recovering addict/alcoholic chose house of God
In AA I'd sit with alcoholics sharing what they drank,
How, when, where.
I'd rather say never again.
*
Every morning it’s my habit not so new
of drinking from a brimful cup,
the piping hot reviving brew,
as from bed I listlessly get up.
I try various types of tea and their progeny,
herbal, green, brown and even spicy,
get the satisfaction of a low degree,
often the sip becomes dicey.
Gaining simple pleasure from concoction,
I get to think is not my cup of tea,
until in the Himalayan hill station,
I taste the famous Darjeeling delicacy.
The aroma of golden liquid delights my sense,
drives me to go on a drinking spree,
turns me into an addict of its pleasure hence,
enthuses me to drink everyday a cup of this tea.
_______________
February 10, 2023
Contest : A Simple Pleasure
Sponsored by : Julia Ward
When it’s a choice they blame a disease,
then are annoyed upset so they eat,
subliminal messaging, society,
they see a pie they eat what they see
you are what you eat and it’s clear to me
the last meal you ate was a big ugly fatty
You sit eat get lazy and sleep
wake up and do the same on repeat
nobodies preference you know rejection
it’s not a choice but natural selection
blame being single on discrimination
not through attraction as you have none
You’re going to die young you’re gonna be sick
you’ll never admit you’re a food addict
who hasn’t the discipline to be healthy or fit
if you want positivity then go and earn it.
Appreciated, loved & admired but so, so terribly lost
in a world inside my head that I felt like I could escape but at what cost?
$20 for a dub to fill my pipe up so I can smoke
a small price to pay for all of my trust to be broke
everything I wanted to be suddenly turned to
as I filled my pipe up so I could take another hit
I wondered when I became a crackhead, a fiend, a whore
appreciated, loved & admired were feelings I felt no more
anger plagued my heart as my world tragically fell apart
my mind was riddled with guilt & shame
I became an addict & myself was the only person to blame
lying & cheating became part of my daily life & it became really hard to tell wrong from right
But I swear I didn't mean to hurt you or cause you any pain ,
remember when you've lost everything you also have everything to gain
gain yourself back & find joy in the things you used to love
ask God for a sign from the Heavens above
a reason to get sober & stay clean
because I no longer identify as a crackhead, a whore, or a fiend
I'm whole again...maybe still a little lost but that's okay
I'm rediscovering myself more & more every single day
The snow on the ground reminded me that I, too, can be made clean again
free from the addiction, the madness, the evil sin
free from the dope pipe, the lifestyle, & my old ways
I'm grateful that I can be made new & whole again today because $20 for dub to fill my pipe up so I can smoke is not something worth doing anymore, I know that for sure
appreciated, loved & admired
I'm thankful for another chance to get this right
of course when the darkness is over, you can see the light
as lost as I once was I know I can find myself again a little at a time
& I refuse to dim my light, I'm just gonna let it shine
I’ve been haunting this old gothic
since nineteen eighty,
when I died from a brain tumor
at the age of sixty-three.
I cannot leave this antique home,
I am well-bound within,
must haunt it for one hundred years,
punishment for my sins.
See this is true purgatory,
how souls suffer for crimes,
not able to ascend upwards,
’till we’ve served out our time.
It is quite a strange sensation
to both be here and not,
in this world but not of it,
plays hell with the thoughts.
But it would be manageable,
’cause Heaven does await,
except that when I first got here
I made a dumb mistake.
Often when we first coalesce
we feel sorrow and pain,
death and intangibility
run havoc in our brain.
And in that supreme confusion
we can lash out in fear,
this is just what I did to all
people who came here.
Most of them ran off screaming,
what else can you expect?
But soon the word was spreading wife,
setting up what came next.
Tourists started to arrive here
to seek a glimpse of me,
and they always seem to get one
because, good folks, you see
that when a ghost touches the flesh
it gives us a hit of life,
drags us out of silent watching
into visible light.
That’s when the people can see us,
wispy shapes and glowing orbs,
the problem for us ghosties is
we’re always wanting more.
Like an addict of lifelong drunk,
the urge burns out-of-control,
a moment of what we have lost,
of what cold death has stole,
Feels better than the greatest high,
it beats out even sex,
instead of waiting here in peace,
we’re just left a jonsing wreck.
Maybe that’s part of our penance,
or maybe Satan’s sway,
all I know is I truly wish
I did not feel this way.
I wish people did not come here,
their presence tormenting,
we were once told death brought rest,
but I’ve felt no such thing.
Worse yet are the ghost-hunters
trying to record it,
a man’s afterlife should be more
than a way to turn profit.
If never did people come here
I would not have this strife,
I’d be at peace to think about
my family and wife.
I could focus on forever,
when I’d see them again,
not always be pulled back into
the lives of living men.
I’ve sixty-two more years of this
and it may cost me my mind,
I wish the living wouldn’t haunt me,
just let me do my time…