Long Addiction Poems
Long Addiction Poems. Below are the most popular long Addiction by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Addiction poems by poem length and keyword.
What is life without joy and happiness?
what is life without self honour and pride?
Upon this mountain hell i lay every day
Battered and frustrated
A man of sorrow, forsaken
My spirit groans for mercy which failed to come
All is taken away from me including the smallest pin
of what is life without a mother?
painted black and red
I mourn every seconds for that pretty damsel
swifter that the eagle, my heart pounded
Joy whispers sadness in my ears
and tears becomes my friend
In despair i feast and dance sorrowfully
they mock and throw me around like a forbidden coin
men are evil, my spirit moans
Raising my eyes to see my ears
i could tell of their wickedness
my goats, cows and jewelries gone
Hear me evil souls, the nature has its judgment
Once in life, it cometh and it hard to escape
It hard to escape the judgment
look at father native compound
it been taken away by strangers
those who once dance with us
In good fortune and share our breads and barns together
NOw, they are against us in fury
Dare point us in the face and laugh
Hear me old friends, nature has its judgment
The nature has its judgment, beware
In my old age. bitterly i weeps all day
in affliction and harsh labour
my foes had become my masters
the roads to my hut mourns
my compound groans and grieved
None to comfort me, all my friends had betrayed me
All the splendor has departed in the air
this is why i weep and,
my body shivers
My eyes overflow with water
All who pass my way clapped and laughed at me
Enemies open their mouth wide against me
my grieves are many and my heart fainted
i am in torment within, disturbed and distracted
I remembered my wandering and pains
In the dark forest alone
Covered my self with anger
perhaps my father had sinned
And i didn't know and,
we now bore the pains
Getting brad is at my life risk
Because of the sword beneath
look and see our disgrace
Those who pursue us are at our heels
my siblings scattered abroad sorrowfully
No one to caution us and drag us back
Till end i know the earth has it judgments
i shall sing beautifully with joy in other phase of life
when the gate shall open.
ALL RIGHT RESERVED (C) JOHN CHIZOBA VINCENT 2013
I'm sitting here right now, just thinking back through time,
about all the things I've been addicted to, through out my entire life.
now this has got me thinking, why was this so,
why I thought so many of my addictions were a good way for me to cope.
Addicted to lollies and video game as a child, they made me happy.
Addicted to violence at 9, because love was about control.
Addicted to writing at 10, a place for me to hide.
Addicted to smoking at 11, don't know really why,
also addicted to masturbation, to take my frustrations away
and addicted to movies, cause there was silence for a while.
Addicted to Alcohol at 12, it made me feel good inside.
Addicted to cannabis at 13, it freed me from my mind.
Addicted to hashes oil at 15, progressing I guess.
Addicted to gang life at 16, this was what I wanted to be.
Addicted to the party life at 17, it got me away from home.
Addicted to prescription medications at 18, a whole new world to see.
Addicted to gambling at 21, a real emotional ride.
Addicted to various T.v show, a way to fantasize.
also addicted to arguing and fighting, because I was always right.
For the next 5 years I went back and forth through all my addictions you see,
never really knowing where I fit in, because none of these were me.
so long was I trapped by addictions, in my mind it was the way to survive,
I truly thought my addictions were the only things keeping me alive.
Addicted to Yahoo messenger at 26, only thing on computers I knew how to do.
Addicted to bebo at 28, cos all my friends had one.
Addicted to helping people at 30, so much pain I could ease.
Addicted to tribal wars at 31, because I lacked satisfaction in my life.
then came a new addiction, to publish what I write.
Addicted to education at 34, so much I needed to understand.
and of course there was face book, well everyone is on face book.
Addicted to reprogramming myself at 36, this is where i'm at now.
i'm also addicted to my children, for they give me strength when i'm down.
I look back on my life and all I see is a lot of misery,
so coming to terms with my addictions, is my a new fight for me,
once I understand and embrace them all,
I can teach my children there's a better life in store.
I know I will never be free from addictions,
because I have an addictive mind,
the only difference now from then,
are healthier ones I find.
M.Mahauariki © 2012
Form:
“It's not that we cant see the solution; it's that we cant see the problem” - G.K. Chesterton
It's all so crazy
The perception of our society
Are we blind; are we ignorant?
Perhaps what will be, will be
It's not that we can’t see the solution
It seems so obvious - so clear
But when you look beneath the surface
The reality - I think that's what we really fear
We think that food is a problem
With obesity at an all time high
The truth - obesity Is a symptom
Yet, we continually close our eyes
Over half of America
Is over weight or obese
It's the leading cause of preventable deaths
However; it's not what we eat
It's what's eating us
During our days and our nights
Its the voice in our head
That tells us things aren't quite right
Food doesn't kill people
It's similar to gun control
30,000 violent deaths per year
I bet here's a fact you don't know
Of the 30,000 violent deaths
18,000 are suicides
You're right - guns do kill people
But we never ask people why they want to die
The solutions may seem clear
But stress, anxiety, and fear still remains
It's not food or the guns
That elicit the majority of life's pain
So let's have a drink
That will help us to relax and unwind
Here, have another
It's a sophisticated red wine
According to a National Survey
86 percent reportedly drink
26 percent binge
That's a lot don't you think?
An estimated 88,000 people
Die from alcohol-related causes per year
It's the third leading preventable cause of death in the United States
The solution? - address, don't try to drink away what you fear
So what's the real problem?
Here, I'll take the sacrificial dive
I'll use logic and reason
A method we use in other areas of our lives
It's not eating or drinking
That’s causing our pain
In modernity
It's the mental health of our brain
It's what we value
It's who we choose to idolize
It's the trivially matters
The distorted sense of self we despise
When we learn to face facts
Prioritize what we do
When we value virtue
Compassion manifest - love will carry us through
We’ll choose take smaller bites
Have one drink to unwind
We’ll have a gun for protection
Moderation - the Golden rule still applies
It's not that we can’t see the problem
It’s that we won't look at the disease
The solution?
Address mental health - please
In all honesty,
I never learned your name.
I didn’t need to;
The look in your eyes is your name
Like fireflies, they twinkle and glimmer your name
A name I love saying
The way you stare at me
It’s like I’m the color yellow,
And I’m painting away the grey of your world
That’s what you tell me
As my head rests in the crook of your neck, and your fingers trail up the bare of my hip
You’re yellow, and sunshine to me you say
And I’m grey like a pebble, soaking up your rays
I laugh
But grey is my favorite color I tell you
It’s the color of the skies on the days I’m tucked in your arms, because its too cold and wet to go outside
It’s the color of my favorite blanket that I keep under my bed
Its only for special occasions
When I need to cry and shake and let the dreams of the night know I’m not okay
You’re not just for special occasions though
You’re for every occasion. Every fight, every dance,
Every laugh with my head thrown back and my fingers tightening around you for purchase because laughing with you is like an ******, it breaks me, it builds me, it loves me
Even when you’re not here
I still think of you
I sit you beside me, and tell you thoughts, even when reality speeds around us, and you’re not really there
Even now I can sit you beside me
And trace the figures of your love with my eyes
Black hair, straight and deep. Sometimes short, sometimes long; I can’t choose, you’re beautiful either way
Brown eyes, deep like the dirt flowers and dreams can only sprout in, that burn like the hearts of spinning stars
Tall, and I hate it, but you always use it to your advantage to capture me tight
I lied
I love it
Long fingers, and you pluck secrets and whimpers from me like notes from a harp
God, I love them
God, I crave them
You’re my all dreams bundled into one, my opposite, my piece of the puzzle, my favorite melody, my infinite addiction
I can’t live without you
A day that goes by without you is another breath stolen from my lungs but what can I do because you’re not even real
Like Pygmalion, I’ve fallen in love with my own mind’s tortured creation and now I can love no one but you
I can stare at no one but you, and when the night falls, I can go to no one but you
To Orsino, how can you say women can’t love like men?
I’ve fallen in love with a woman and now I’m dead.
September 25, 2018
Mosque cowed covenant I keep Putin off...
and withheld broadcasting
the following communication
tucked away these many years,
when president number forty five
donned, jump/kick started, and tweeted
thru his musky, albeit flabby mantle,
a rallying cry forewarning onset of Mag(m)a
bubbling, gurgling, lobbing, and spewing lava
against backdrop of his trumpeting vitriolic
political preservation, salvation,
and veneration, though with hold
ding temptation tomb mike -
(make) pence sieve lee clear,
the immoral majority mold
toot hoods, (those bajillion
Americans unanimously polled)
did want me to broadcast, communicate,
and declare, sans incendiary fold
drawl (folderol) feigning migrant accent,
(no matter I'm getting older than Methuselah),
nonetheless Ivana trumpet from Taj Mahal
straight to Mar-A-Lago) all told,
plus thank Republicans
(past or present), who extolled,
an invisible grandiose fire walled
barricade (donning, enclosing,
and fortifying) against Carl mauled
din lookalike hackers,
despite one sporting "FAKE"
hook nosed, hunchbacked
adorned, donned with (Turin) shawled,
shrouded, and disguised vagrant, indigent,
double chinned agent - bald
(except for being bewigged),
viz flowing locks of "FAKE" gold
in toe with Amazon heavily funded
unbridled trailing retinue
chanting appellation Matthew
Scott Harris alias Oswald),
no matter said faux
renegade twittering lobbyists
to flock (like lemmings) within his fold,
and will laughably petrify
any vigilantes dead cold,
what with his bugs
bunny eyed (What's up Doc)
intent reader rabbit stare,
that doth playfully scold
any Bare Ladies scantily
linkedin, NOT nsync
with netiquette politesse mold
gobbledygook communication, (asper
my pork chopped message
higglety pigglety divulged)
obeying tacit gold
din rule to hoodwink public, nonetheless
lemme exemplify, how I plan to hold
world web electronically hostage
by secret Ransomware sold,
thru dark wide whirled web
cryptocurrency bitcoin blockchain trolled
under auspices, sans
omnipotent NON GMO
gluten free CRISPR rolled
oat sized INTEL nanobots,
no bigger than mold
spores heavily monitoring
meant to fortify electronic threads
woven into a virtual tapestry
likened to Dickensian chain e-mail
intent to foment pandemonium
at expense to captcha totalitarianism,
whereby democracy imperiled.
> Walking into that bar
>
> That nefarious den of
> iniquity and evilness
>
> Twenty drinks too sober
> The scent of bad craziness
>
> Hung in the air
> Like an over ripe mango
> Desperately seeking to have
> sex
> With wild, dressed up bananas
> Running around with the Orange Man
> Down the Street
> The Moon looks out on the mad
> scene
> Sniffs the air
>
> Saying, "Man, this is
> bad craziness"
>
> And runs away to join her
> lover the Sun
>
> In an orgy of drunken
> forgetfulness
> The Planet Mars, not amused
> Chases after the maiden Venus
> Under the cold, calculating
> glances of the Planet Pluto
> The Moon and the Sun
>
> Rent a room in the Hotel
> Venus
>
> Across from the Jupiter All
> Night Diner
> Cosmic **** kickers
>
> Out for a night of Earth
> bashing
> The Earth trembles, shaken
> Moans with passion
> And I awake
>
> Saying, that was bad
> craziness
> Out there on the edge
>
> Between the inner me and the
> outer Zone
> I went on down the road
>
> And met a lady
>
> A outlaw lady on the far side
> Money, power, passion
> Rolled up in a bundle
>
> Electric chemistry
> Fills my head
>
> Zapping my brain
> Into demented muscles
> Paranoid, pulsating images
> Scream out
>
> With mad passion
> And demented noises
> The night turns ugly fast
>
> And very, very weird
>
> Weirdness in the air
> Scent of bad craziness
> The moon
> Is freaked out
>
> The Sun falls asleep in the
> gutter
>
> And I say to myself
>
> I'm just another cosmic Guy
> On the loose, on the edge,
> On the wild side of things
>
> Watching the show,
> Unfold,
> I wonder, is this all
> A drunken bum show?
>
> Who is the star, who is she
>
> The maiden up there in the
> bar
> Black, leather jackets
>
> On stage naked visions of
> nightly lust
> Dancing with an attitude that
> could kill
> An elephant in heat
>
> And the Moon
>
> Continues to dance across the
> evening sky
>
> Satisfied, allows mankind to
> sleep it off
\ Yet another night in the City
> of demented Angels
>
> Finally rest as the sun comes
> up
>
> The masks come back on
>
> And I walk down the road
>
> Putting everything back into
> the box
> Until the next night
>
> Of bad craziness
> Lets the wild beast within
> Escape its leash.
>
> Bad Craziness rising yet
> again
Gregory
You made yesterdays news, invoking fears
You were found on the streets
Discarded and left to die alone
Thrown away like a piece of garbage with little thought
An inconvenience, as you struggled for your life
So many questions and no answers….
Your thoughts were dark and twisted and not appropriate
You did not fit the mould
Opportunities wasted as you oared against the current
The river washed you out and you choked to breathe
Your thoughts were numbed by substances
Chemicals that took away your sanity
Robbed you of your family and your home
Left your mother with a broken heart and tortured soul, struggling with forgiveness
Your father fought his own demons just long enough to remember your life
And then fall back into the abyss and darkness and forgottenness
Your friends cried as they thought of you.
Their scarred faces and souls with their big crosses around their necks
Their tattooed and tattered young zombie bodies
With their vacant eyes that bore too much pain to contain
Thin and remorseful souls
with the tears that fell down their cheeks like rain
They loved you, you were a good friend!
It was said you would give the shirt off your back for a friend
Your first love wondered how she could have helped?
Your grandfather has lived too long to see this day
One more funeral in his 88 years
A reminder of his son of 17 that was also discarded.
Your brother tried to honour and play his guitar that you gave him
Tears were shed
Beautiful memories shared and kind words spoken
A life too young
Fell beneath the caverns of a broken world
Aunts write poetry to make sense of it all, desperately writing to keep your memory alive
Unspoken grief all around with nowhere to go
One more forgotten victim of an epidemic
Bi-polar they said
Addicted they said
As they sat in their offices high above the streets away from it all
Making policies to keep you safe.
Safe injection sights to shoot poison to your veins
And kitchens with large pots of soup to sustain you until your imminent death
The great unravelling of a generation
You were loved by many
You were a beautiful soul, a good friend, son, brother, cousin
A beautiful child with big brown eyes and so much promise
Gregory always remembered
Rest peacefully sweet soul…
Grace Daub August 25, 2021 written after my nephew’s untimely death- homeless and on the streets
I lay in my bed.
Thoughts come in waves.
When will it end?
The Dragon slain.
No amount of time.
No person, no thing.
Can change the fate,
That the needle brings.
Sights of Orange,
Delight my eyes.
I pick up a crystal,
And to no surprise.
I crush it down.
In that damn orange cup.
I’m so overwhelmed.
The sinking feeling abrupt.
I carefully decide,
The amount to pour.
Then mix it with water.
And dissolve once more.
I take off the cap,
To reveal the shine.
Of that needle so enticing.
That it blows my mind.
I feel so small.
As I stare at that point.
My body quivers.
I can’t disappoint.
Thoughts of guilt.
Invade my brain.
But my body keeps saying,
This will soon end the pain.
So I draw the solution,
Into the stem.
Then flick it twice.
Let the bubbles settle in.
I slowly push the air out.
That’s collected on top.
And wonder to myself,
If I will ever stop.
But I shrug it away.
And again think of pain.
Then tie on my tourniquet.
And say “ it” again.
The veins start to pop.
And spread on my skin.
They bulge and prod,
And trickle within.
Sometimes this takes hours.
Sometimes days of my life.
I get so frustrated.
But search on with strife.
I stab myself over and over again.
Until the blood flows red into my syringe.
Seeing the blood,
Makes my whole body weak.
But I surrender with ease.
No more words can I speak.
I push the plunger forward,
Till she entires my veins.
Down to the last drop.
Empty and insane.
I wait just a second.
Pull the needle out.
My body turns to fire.
This is what it’s all about.
From my toes to my head,
Her venom spreads.
Ecstasy at last.
No more feelings of dread.
Then the fire fades,
Just as quickly as it came.
And then there’s just calm.
A final break from the shame.
I’ve given my life to this process,
So many times.
The bigger the shot.
The bigger the crimes.
When I’m in this state,
The dragon has one.
My mind and my heart,
Become unspun.
I do terrible things,
To all of my friends.
My family, my children.
But she always wins.
I always think I can only do one.
But that’s never the case.
The cycles just begun.
“The devils tool” I’ve heard it said.
Takes every ounce of life.
And leaves you for dead.
But you rise up and start
The process once more.
A zombie. Tortured chaos.
I don’t know anymore.
you remember that one time when ava fell off the swings and cut her knee?
how everyone laughed at her for her childish hubris in thinking she could jump and land,
unscathed, from that high a distance?
how the laughter roared as they watched a 9-year-old cry
and clutch her knee with both hands,
creating a burrow for blood under her nails?
how, without a moment of hesitation,
you ran to her, helped her up, and walked her to the nurse’s office?
yeah. didn’t think you’d remember it, if i’m being totally honest.
well, that moment, watching you put her arm around your shoulder for balance,
so she could hop her way down a flight and half of stairs for a single band-aid,
i think I fell in love with you.
maybe love is an exaggeration,
but looking at these old photos of us,
with your hair flying in the wind and my hair tucked in your helmet
as i clutched your waist for dear life,
the two of us,
flying down the freeway on your motorcycle,
i can’t think of a better word to describe my feelings for you.
these pictures,
now covered in layers of dust,
remind me of everything that could have been.
of everything that will never be.
i lost you so many addictions ago,
i guess i should’ve known when your words turned to lies,
and your lies turned to routine,
but i didn’t want to believe that the girl
with the bright pink hair and tacky leather jackets,
the girl that i had fallen so hard for,
was now gone.
that she had been replaced with someone who simply
went through the motions every day,
no longer able to feel anything for anyone,
someone who looked in the mirror,
wishing that the reflection would be blank.
the doctors say that your liver gave out,
but i think that the real cause was that you gave up.
i saw how hard you fought,
how you ran away from who you’d become,
leaving us behind in a race to find yourself.
you were gone long before the red line representing your heart’s last efforts flattened.
you’ve been gone so long that i’ve had to rely on these pictures
to make sure that you were ever real.
you’ve become nothing but a memory,
a hope, a wish for better,
a tragic story that i wish i never was a part of.
i miss you,
more than you could ever know,
more than i can ever process.
i miss you because no matter what happened,
no matter where you went,
no matter how long you’ve been gone,
i still loved you.
Judgement day is every day when you're trying to survive in a decent way. Clean up your life and move away, to a new playground for the kids to play. It's an Oreo cookie way of life, broader than black and white. Trying to break to the surface to see the light, but you keep getting suppressed.. it takes all your fight.
Drop out came a long way.. From counting stacks of 3 to a GED. On the outside mamma's so proud of me. But inside she's scared she don't want to see me take another fall, slip up and lose it all. X'ed up, punching holes in the wall. She's cautious for my life, she cries: "I wish you could see it through my eyes".
Accidentally got caught up in the game and chase again. Never had let go, the past was still holding onto my hand. Slowly takes over, but you keep it undercover. Keep it on the low, thinking nobody's going to know. But somehow I stayed on top of it. Only slinging and drugging on the weekends and ****. Got through my Friday and played on payday. Dedicated worker specialized in crazy.
Then one I day my end started to begin. I changed my life and I traded it in.. For a camouflage uniform that covered the scars on my skin. I ended up losing my freedom, tied down with conflicting feelings. Gun in my hand, I was told to defend, the pain and the hell that I had abandoned. The bad guy in trusted boots, ripped myself from my roots. I planted my self far from the town I was raised in.
Kind of felt like I was betraying there trust, leaving my love for a life that's lust.
But then again.. I finally felt filled inside, alive. Maybe there was a reason I looked at my past, and wanted to run and hide. No longer scraping dough to get high. Now I see it again, that pride. The sparkle in mamma's eye. And for the first time it ain't a tear from fear. Can't plan ahead a god damn year. Now she has hope instead of dread, from that knock on the door saying: "Your little girl's dead."
I opened my eyes and I stopped listening. Closed my ears to the phrases of hustlers. "Act classy, you're a lady" was all they could muster. How did they think ladies could survive in these streets? Double standards of life, a game you'll never beat.
I lived how I wanted, they said it was no place for a girl. But once I shared what I had, it became our world. I found the "I" in family, once the pain killers got a hold of me. They kill the pain but bring the misery.