Long Cocaine Poems
Long Cocaine Poems. Below are the most popular long Cocaine by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cocaine poems by poem length and keyword.
I wish I had known that the cocaine and heroine
That killed my friends in the sixties and seventies
Would become an “Opioid Crisis” in my later years.
I wish I had known that somehow the same bad choices
That not only killed but criminalized my friends back then
Would make today’s addicts poor victims who need accommodation.
I wish I had known that the press and government
Would create the battle cry “Opioid Crisis” as a way to get readers and votes
Without considering the consequences in our healthcare system.
I wish I had known that because of measures taken
To protect other people’s children who chose to misuse an illegal substance
My child dying of cancer would be treated like a criminal when obtaining prescribed pain meds
I wish I had known that at almost 60 years of age I would be fighting
To get pain medicine I clearly need for a diagnosed condition
And be treated like an addict on the street was in my youth
I wish I had known that despite friends and family who love and care
This would be the loneliest, most painful time of life
Because those with the power to help are busy completing forms and counting pills.
But I didn’t know. And the life I’ve lived has been a clean one in which I always strived to make the right choices,
No speeding tickets, no parking tickets, no arrests, church on Sunday;
And no relief from the pain that now fills the long nights.
I didn’t know that I would have to watch a sweet young woman with stage four cancer
Jump through hoops to get the meds that make her comfortable
While addicts who overdose are fawned over, given expensive drugs, and promised no consequence.
I didn’t know that I survived an abusive household growing up
With alcoholic parents who enjoyed belittling me
Only to find myself understanding suicidal depression for the first time as a senior adult.
But now you know.
May 15, 2019
Note: published in Eskimo Pie, HIll Magazine and other sites
I love coffee
Always have
And coffee has loved me back
But lately I have sourced on her
Soured on the whole coffee scene
On the harshness of the morning brew
And the promises it makes
As I sip of its nectar
Drawn into its lair
Drinking drop by drop
As the caffeine takes over
Rewriting my every nerve
Turning me into a slave
For its perverted pleasure
Yes, I love coffee
But I am afraid
Coffee is a harsh mistress
Demanding so much of me
Promising the sun
And delivering the Moon
As I drink her swill
Deeping under her influence
I have the coffee blues
Can’t live with our her
Can’t live with her
I try
But tea does not cut it
Not really
Booze does not do it
At least not in the morning
Yoga is not enough of a buzz
Nor is the runner’s high
And I am afraid deadly afraid of cocaine
And speed and drugs and energy drinks
And so I remain a slave to coffee
My only legal drug
As I sip another and fall under her seductive spread
Once more failing my resolve
To skip coffee for that day
That morning that moment
I shall never be free of her spell
Ever and she knows it
As she beckons me
Every morning with her intoxicating smell
Charlie the woodchopper of Fremont
began to build his new home,
it had to have an elegant dome
with a golden trim glittering at night.
Charlie couldn't afford
a Victorian mansion and settled
for a modest ranch with small rooms
and a patio with a sliding door;
there, apple trees swayed
and stranded cats played...
Brawny, the dog, guarded the house's windows
from that armed intruder,
Charlie's rifle was ready to make gunshot fumes
and scare the thief wearing his stolen trousers!
Charlie lost his adorable wife
to a car accident, she hit a tree head-on
while being distracted by a deer
driving across a wet road in Denver;
since then he lived life in strife...
a widower who refused to remarry
and break the matrimonial vows;
what he has left now is a cocaine addict son!
Charlie spends his time reading the Daily Review
which is one of the newspapers free to senior citizens,
and he often wipes off his reading glasses that look new,
but taking them off he loses the perception of things;
his days are long and sad, he wishes he had
a companion, but Leonor cannot be replaced
by anyone...she smiles at him from a portrait
he painted himself on a wood plaque and it seems real!
Quite a few times he has wept and tried
to deal with his unbearable pain, but only prayers could!
He only listens for Leanor's voice that has a ghostly sound!
the three legged dog scrounging trash cans for a meal in Allentown,
befriends the blind girl with her ragged doll, on her face a permanent frown.
the mother in need of dangerous drugs, to make it through another day,
sells her wasting body to those who seek, these desperate souls who’ve lost their way.
soup kitchens filled with greasy men, who walk the unforgiving streets,
their dreams lay shattered, their clothes all tattered, at night roll up in dirty sheets.
the rich man rolls down the darkened window, of his long black limousine,
and tosses quarters on the ground, and laughs at such a frantic scene,
of children scrambling, fighting, biting, to get their measly share,
to buy some candy at the grocery store, as puzzled people look and stare.
as nightfall comes, the trucks roll in to wash the city streets,
but cannot wash away the sadness here, that every day repeats.
the organ grinder with his monkey spots the blind girl in the park,
and puts a dollar in her hand, as the oriole whistles in the dark.
the mother following close behind, extends her hand, asking for more,
he hands another five, she thanks him, walks away and looks to score,
another bag of crack cocaine, as the little girl starts to cry,
“where is my little dog she asks”, the mother asks her why,
“I want my doggie, it’s my friend, and it loves me the best”,
her mother falls upon her knees, and holds her closely to her chest.
“no darling, it’s me that loves you, loves you so much more”,
together they run hand in hand, as the rain begins to pour.
now in rehab she proudly claims “three years today and I’m still clean”,
happy together now at home, mother, daughter, and the dog they named Aileen’
Extra! Extra! Read all about it;
Take your masks off
it amplifies the virus,
Back up your nose like a brain eating amoeba;
Extra! Extra!
Drink all that kool aid
let’s go on a wacky wild trip,
Nothing but cocaine in the 80s made you sick;
Extra! Extra! Read all about it;
We have taken it all wrong,
Nothing we thought is what it has become;
It’s the biggest cat and mouse game of all;
Extra! Extra!
They will fall for everything
and question nothing;
Social media created new sugar habits;
Extra! Extra! Read all about it;
They gave up and followed us
Extra, extra
What else will they believe?
A completely non religious write, I think!
The universe is nothing yet everything, inward then outwardly led
has tried every configuration possible, peanuts to stellar nursery beds
Mixing this and that together, now it's growing inside our heads
Bringing conscious thoughts to light, through our blood it spreads
Perhaps a self centred entity, trying to comprehend from where it came
Using every calculation ever made, from Confucius to murderous Cain
Loves human ingenuity, though indiscriminate to the healthy and lame
Lets everything run its course, including nazism and crack cocaine
So what's the ultimate purpose, I mean time's always on its side,
Expand forever, test every combination that human life provides
Hanging around going nowhere, indifferent to watching us die
Refusing to interact for a second, as we contagiously laugh and cry
Well it's not good enough I'm afraid, to experiment at any price
Allowing us to breed like rabbits, or are we your laboratory mice
Chaos here, randomness there, fancy our chances, roll the dice
Some gorge on filet mignon, others cannot afford a bowl of rice
So the million dollar question I'm asking, everyone wants to know
Are you listening universe, or is some god actually running the show
Putting 2 and 2 together, is not beyond where my mind can go
Answer's simple, but you constantly move the goalposts as I grow
(Universe replies)
Oh ye of little faith, (jesting) intelligent beings are in times of trial
You've been looking for meaning, before my pharaohs ruled the Nile
The truth is, there's none today, but that will all change in a little while
Hang on in there, we're almost home, it's going to end in some style
By
David Kavanagh
I am Farrah Fawcett,
Poster on the wall.
I am a rotary phone,
When I made a call.
I am, Boss,
it’s the plane, The plane.
I am Pablo Escobar,
And his cocaine.
I am Queen with
Freddy Mercury Live.
I am the Bee Gees,
Talking that Jive.
I am vinyl, 8-tracks,
cassettes and CDs.
I am, make love not war,
And Hippies.
I am where is the beef?
Don't squeeze the Charmin.
I am Cheech and Chong
and George Carlin.
I am SNL when it
Was funny.
I am Happy Days,
And a Playboy bunny.
I am M.A.S.H. and
A metal Lunch-box.
I am clackers, tang,
And a Pet-rock.
I am American Bandstand,
Peace signs, and the twist.
I am pay-phones, pagers,
and stick-shifts.
I am, conjunction junction,
What's your function?
I am Patty Hearst and
Her abduction.
Turbo1904
Diuretics and laxatives have been purging dysmorphic creatures
As they stage their grim delusion for glamour with anorexic features
They call it passion for fashion and yet walk in emperor’s clothes
Nearly naked and some in lines adorned from cocaine shred noses
Present fake breasts bum implants shrivelled Egos and botoxed faces
Like stick insect role models they struggle to portray any humanoid traces
The melt from the spotlight yet the crowd revels in mere bones and skin
A designer declares that ‘with those costumes you’ll look just as thin’
And so audiences worldwide dream of false beauty and are committed
To believe that without external appearances love won’t be requited
They purchase like sheep to the slaughter and starve for undying looks
And fail to notice the mercurial charade of the industry’s criminal crooks
05th November 2019
All these years at home, me and my momma alone
Daddy on the run, headed for the sun, he must of been..
Because I obviously wasn't his sunshine
Growing up wishing you were there when I had something to say
But now it's on pause, just like I am to write this
There's no more fightin' it, I hate you daddy
And I love writing it
All the love and hate will come out, I'll be spittin' **** you
And failure out of my mouth. And when I stop talkin'
I'll be in a craze, glaring at him
With my hate my hate and rage gaze
I'll kick up my feet, scuff dirt in his face
Tell him I put weed and lines of cocaine in his place
And enjoy the disgrace upon his face
And tell him that it's his fault for tappin' out in the first place
Left alone in this world of demons
Trying to find my halo in this crazy maze
Raising myself, daddy left
And mommas worrying about her ownself
Life ain't always a perfect song, it skips and studders
Fear, something nothing can cover
My will is what I discovered, feelings uncovered
She starts thinking and wonders
Here dad, I'm gonna use brain
Yeah, I'm a smart ass
Fourteen years later
And I'm pouring my heart out, at last
Making it my point, I'm taking off my mask
Getting it off my chest, and laying these demons to rest
But **** me and the way I lived
Playing dirty and not letting my emotions show
Couldn't find mine
So I stole someone else's halo
But used it as a frisbee and chased it to hell
Spittin' cards now with cruela di'ville
And I know you're here too, in this fiery hell
I'll find you and the corner in which you dwell
And when I do, *******
You won't be slithering no more
I'll take off you're scales one by one
Make you the one who's coming undone
Scatter your ashes on hells front door
Bye daddy, now I'm the one who's leaving
I'll shut it, make sure I slam it
Throw in a **** you and god damn it
God sure damned us alright
But don't worry, I'll be sleeping tight
Nightmares at night, no more
I found my heart at my core
Survivin', tryin'
Leaving this life behind
And one last thing to the guy
Calling himself my ****ing dad
I'm better off without you
Bull**** if I'm gonna let you haunt my mind
End of rhyme, I'm the one
Leaving you behind this time.
What would it be like to start all over again,
I mean isn’t that the reason, so many of us pen,
It just opens up every unknown possibility,
Some beautiful some dark, others downright ugly,
But alas the truth is, we’ll probably never know,
Unless I endeavor to reverse time’s flow,
Oh here we go again, he’s still living in the past,
Well actually I’m not, it’s more a forecast,
Picturing the future, not as hard as it seems,
We do it every night, yeah but only in dreams,
Still have to wake up, and face tomorrow,
Make ends meet, work, pay back what we borrow,
Now this is the bit where I go quite insane,
Stand back as I cast off these holding chains,
Oh Christ! he’s just done another line of cocaine,
No I’m clean and sober, or so I maintain,
Gonna get hypnotized by this shrink I know,
Put in a permanent stupor, my life I’ll forego,
Wander this planet, with my head in the clouds,
On every continent have a fabulous house,
Leave behind the rat race, start a new religion,
Where there’s no big brother, and no supervision,
Do all this by surrogate, from my own living room,
Embedded forever in this simulated womb,
Will make time go slowly, say one minute a year,
So a day is a Millennium, time will almost disappear,
When I make love will last, the whole century long,
The agony of ecstasy, oh my will is so strong,
Passion will be bliss, happiness put on tap,
No death, gonna rid my world of all this crap,
Write beautiful poetry, til the cows come home,
Muse about Italy, Venice, Naples and Rome,
Oh god I’m flying high, soaring unchained,
Not an ache in my body, slight twinge or pain,
A demigod of nature, gladiator fighting to be free,
come on join in, spend a moment here with me,
All the haters, you’ll be expelled to hell,
Liars and time wasters, yeah you as well,
I will not stop, gonna raise the dead,
Well only the good ones, under my bed?
Boy that was great, was it good for you too,
And for a moment, I was really there, it’s true,
No need to get drunk, wasted out of my mind,
Open up your imagination, it’s simply sublime.
85 billion neurons, in the average human brain,
Stars in the Milky Way, more or less the same,
Please listen when I tell you, never be restrained,
Reality of truth’s alive, not to find it is a shame.
By
David Kavanagh