Long Addicted Poems
Long Addicted Poems. Below are the most popular long Addicted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Addicted poems by poem length and keyword.
The deep fault of the human race
is that there are no individuals any more.
~ Søren Kierkegaard
Pixels in the machine it seems
Articulating world schemes, twirled
Reality for those addicted to a screen,
Too timid into be seen in between ~
Inventions of mad men with intentions of perverting
Common sense, it’s so passé
Loving everything but Roget’s suggestions~
Even poems must have an ending!
Menageries of words saying nothing, galleries of pixel
Animations replacing animates en masse
Nothing leftover for the poor,
who don’t exist except
in old picture books.
Ours is a world of meanness, fear, and dissension
Filled with uncertainty, strife, and apprehension
A world fueled by selfish greed and profiteering
And false promises of those electioneering
A world filled with confusion, leaving us displaced
We try to understand, but still we are unbraced
The gains of labor are cancelled by inflation
Depleted further by burden of taxation
Driven by selfishness, people are afflicted
Wounded, broken, abused, hurt, sick, and addicted
Dreams are forgotten, lost on the slippery slope
Discouraged, depressed, hopeless, unable to cope
Two centuries ago, earth was a similar place
Angry, dark, mean, abusive, and in need of grace
People were in a hurry, seeking their own fame
Trying to get ahead, willing to shift the blame
Into this kind of world, the Lord Jesus was born
To deliver grace and peace to people forlorn
On mission to our planet that had blown a fuse
He came from heaven to deliver good news
Born of a virgin, as the prophets had foretold
Cradled in a manger, for the world to behold
A little baby boy, crying, making a fuss
They called him Immanuel, which means “God with us”.
Well here we go off the top of my brain again
It's been bad times with everything
It's like I deserve it so the pain starts again
Why can't I just rest let the angels sing their hyms
Too early for death depression starts again
It was not long ago when John cougar sang a song
I was young thought what does he mean life goes on
After the thrill of living is gone walk on.
Is it life after death whats the concept
Now I get it and I do move on but so much was left out
Even that very profound song.
Now thar the time of no thrill or at least few and far between
Can I find out how to handle what's next cause
I was one these kids no one had time to teach
Life lessons to or give coping tools to
Nope I was the guy who covered up the pain
With humor and a good smile. Yet very shy
So what comes next is there even more pain
To come before rest people made life to
Where its only worth living if you can find wealth
And we can't even find secure in today economy
Without 3 jobs and federal assistance
Which is political war it's for drug addicted
Residents.
The phone is dying so this is temp stop
Carried away
Destruction leads the path
Hurt has overcome me
I cannot look forward
I keep looking back
No one can replace what you left
I am left in sorrow
Where there is nothing worth to look towards tomorrow
I see you behind steel bars that hold you back from me
I see pain and bitter agony
I want revenge
Though why do I still love a man that took from me
Why am I addicted to the pain
What is so powerful that keeps me hanging on to someone who is so destructive
I am lost and forgotten
You abandoned me to the cause of lifestyle you created
You chose the path and left me to sit in the dirt you placed me in
I lay in the road forgotten and left to die in shame
Because no one saw me and believed in me when I loved you for the man you were
and love still is in my heart even for a cold man that is a criminal at the shame of his
own hands.
She was lovely, a beautiful kind soul, giving, loving, generous, but also apologetic for being alive.
Her light gray eyes danced and pranced, and her laugh was hearty when you got to know her.
Lots of people thought she should be invisible.
They wanted their garbage dumped, and their rooms vacuumed and cleaned silently.
Knowing this, she usually kept her head down, saying few words, afraid of being rebuffed.
I brought her a sandwich, and stayed late one afternoon, to get to know her.
She had sacrificed her whole life to help her drug-addicted mother, and now her drug-addicted sister.
All of her money went into her mother’s bills, her mother’s habits, and her sister’s four children.
Her sister was currently serving another sentence in Leavenworth prison. Pregnant, of course.
In a few months, my friend would get a call to come pick up the new baby from the prison.
What choice do I have? She asked me. We cannot have her babies raised by strangers.
She would drop off the baby with her drug-addicted mother who keeps the blinds closed all day,
And bemoans the fact that the other children there are hungry, and crabby and wake her up with their noise.
She did the best she could, enabling her mother and her sister, sometimes taking the babies to their well-check appointments and paying for them of course.
She gave everything she could to her family. A beautiful soul. I asked her what she had wanted to do as a child, what she dreamed about doing when she grew up.
I dreamed someone would take care of me, she said.
I wanted someone to save me, but they never came.
No, we would not want these babies raised by strangers.
My dreams are nightmares.
I am forced to stay awake through sleepless nights
so I won’t hear the lamentations of my ghosts.
Endless monologues with my demons.
The devil fears the darkness that perfumes my mind,
a descendant of a cannibal tribe.
I violate all human laws
that massacre my dignity.
Being a slave is not in my plans.
It’s war until the graveyard.
Indelible scars,
medals to adorn my boldness.
The suffering my body endures
turns my life into a horror film.
I hate the human species
and I have no pet to compensate.
These insatiable parasites call me a psychopath.
I dream of slitting a pedophile’s throat
before the eyes of a rapist
waiting for his hour of execution.
I am a predator,
I will never endure their persecutions.
Hatred has replaced love in my heart.
A hardened criminal, not sentimental.
Nothing romantic,
poetry is grim
like the entrails of hell.
I carry the lights of darkness,
like the chains
that gnawed at the flesh of my dehumanized ancestors
in slave plantations.
I hate misery
and the savagery of capitalism.
I am addicted to life
like a junkie hooked on his dose of crack.
I will end up in the mud
on which I urinate every day.
I will end up consumed
by these fleeting vanities.
I go off-road
on the highway of dissent,
with my neuroses
and my transgressions as rearview mirrors.
No box, no code, no rules,
I am an outlaw.
With copper-toned skin, like the shoes of American supremacists
during the transatlantic slave trade,
traces of lashes
are still visible on my face.
Some years from now
the Devil throws a banquet –
In hell, of course – where he alone
unquestionably rules:
A banquet table plated for
greedy fools: to his right,
Barack seated; with Hilary at
his heated left; Bidden,
unable to tell where he is –
so after a brief, delirious spell,
decides himself quite content
with just the odious, strangely
familiar smell – Hunter doing some
cooking – agents told to shy
from looking – ordered not to
allow lawful booking:
Pelosi and Schumer,
for the first time
realizing themselves entirely
powerless...yet, hopelessly
addicted to procuring votes,
hotly plot how to send
the Squad copious
asbestos notes – His Majesty
offers them, another plate of
hot coals, with a side-dish of
charred souls – some fur lined
totes, to go with stylish
Arctic coats –
Life, where? Everywhere, never pulled back
Go on, live on, wildlife soars in the world,
Further, the ship swirls, sinks, vanishes.
A circular waterfall, something pulled me into the depths,
a woman pulled me to death.
The spirit of evil laughs maliciously at my life, it has swallowed me up,
Absorbed, drives my being to death, desires to kill, element,
That's why he found, saw my weakness, life awoke in her,
She woke up, she woke up, her soul afflicts my life, which has already been forgotten.
The sight of my suffering is joy for her. She knows it's the meaning of evil.
It is the essence of her inclination to harm.
Emma, change, your life will be bitter.
By the time you figure this out, I won't be alive anymore.
Please change.
I will never forget your beautiful name.
Have a secret from me, a word...
It will not be revealed.
I lay my death at your feet.
Emma, I feel bitter now, my life is slow,
Already in me, because of you, it was completely forgotten a long time ago,
Because my mournful life was forgotten, bled and suffered.
The scent of my dusk's cheerful flowers wafts far away, down from the sky, to you in farewell.
It's a pity that it happened like this. I don't want you anymore, but I loved you even without seeing you,
I wanted it, but I didn't need my love
Sickness took it from me. I didn't want it, but you're addicted.
You already know, I wrote, if there is no psychology, then you are with me,
Consign your future life to those monsters, and my past your past.
It's not our fault, it was created by psychology,
They won't even realize that they are ruining destinies.
I would like to close my lines, but there is more to come,
Given to you from the past, the present greets you from the future,
But it's too late, fate has decided me so far.
You no longer have anything to do with this, as I am writing dead from the future.
I found my country there. I'm shining a light on you from the future.
June 11, 2022
Young geeks, txt with lightning speed,
Old dudes, lol, trying hard to find the next key to text,
w/e our asl may be, we are trying to convey,
our feelings, imho, in a cryptic language.
Codgers love the high from aged malt,
Whipper-snappers are already addicted to texting before they know,
You may go to jail for dui,
But you may be dead texting and driving,
Texting has its own dictionary and personalities trait,
Btw idk if still ily? u wre my og,
Nvm ‘m smh, hmu asap,
No cap, tbh Ily.
Kit w/ ur hak, ur pain and sorrow, ur social events,
I will reply you with im chat,
a chat waiting to be responded,
Is like missing ur xoxoxo.
My love for you knows no bounds
An exquisite affair of the heart
Passionately addicted to the nth degree
Knew it right from the start
The signs were there for everyone to see
Google-eyed and mumbling away
Forgetting important meetings and such
Or the silly stuff I wound say
Us humans don't have it down pat, yet
We still have a way yet to go
To call us perfect is a bit premature
But the progress we're making shows
At times people actually make some sense
Of some of the things I say
But bidding someone a fond farewell
Is not how to start each day
It seems I've been bitten and bitten real good
By this bug that's known as love
Haven't slept soundly for many a night
Dreaming of my sweet turtledove
© Jack Ellison 2014