Long Drug addicted Poems
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Lord,
help me shed this ego-atrophy.
Like a second skin I'm desperate to peel away.
Undoubtedly knowing this is the final fray.
Don't leave me, I beg you. Lord
Please don't give up on me yet.
I've made repetitive decisions,
stumbling once more in this drug addicted trap.
I see the line you drew in the sand.
While the wall of the world is built sky high.
I'm teetering on the edge.
I pray you don't send me Lord, right over the ledge.
So many unfinished poems, linger behind my lips.
You saved me in my darkest nights, trapped in the abyss.
You found me when I lost myself,
right in the nick of time.
Humbly asking you My Savior
just one more day.
Need another hit of my poetic fix
Eyes red bleeding from reading
I am a little better or worse
Than a drug addicted person
Could be me but I like pipe dreams
Poetry streaming
Kisses are from the ceiling fan
Blowing on typing hands
Could this be my red romance
Fact or fiction driven by diction
In my mind I am on an tropical island
Smiling wild and fuschia free in blue breeze
Could this be unhealthy this retreat
From the ruby reality
Of taxes life lows and highs
Meditation is going pretty good
Except for the music in my head
I hear it always despite no radio
Or streaming not on the pc
Then it comes to me
Another poem or song or story
Giving me purpose and esteem
Am I pompous for needing
The black bird of a word
To set my caramel spirit free
I say that I am addicted
More like afflicted by creating
And if you are my tribe
That is a positive thing
This month she's a singer
in public lewd and crude
pushed into the limelight
and usually half nude
Next month she'll be a model
a drug-addicted child
in and out of courtrooms
another youth gone wild
The latest greatest train wreck
is just another face
she'll rise and fall so quickly
then another takes her place
Each new one tries to outdo
the ones that came before
with even bigger scandals
and troubles by the score
Just 25 and burnt out
used up and thrown away
disposable celebrities
come and go each day
And tragically for some
they lose their very lives
they're just another headline
on which the public thrives
Created in a board room
churned out at record pace
the latest greatest train wreck
has come to take your place
The first time I met Mei Is Woe, I felt so badly, I begged our co-workers to give up a sick day in the sick day fund, not realizing they had done that so many times, it would not be an easy collection.
Our selfish co-workers flatly and adamantly refused to contribute to Mei Is Woe’s flower fund, even after I told them about her bursitis, lupus, and long time suffering boyfriend’s non re-election.
I wasn’t going to share this, I admitted, pulling out the big guns, because poor Mei asked me not to, but she’s out sick today, to straighten out her unfortunate drug-addicted relatives, who are anything but perfection.
Yes, completely honest Mei is Woe had nothing but trouble, and no matter how hard I begged, or how much she suffered, our co-workers seemed non-caring, and totally un-eager to help with my well-intended collections
Finally, In-the Know, another fairly new co-worker heard the “truth” as we like to say and said, Bill, you might as well give up, no one is going to contribute, and I tell you this with total love and affection.
I already knew it though, because I had spent the morning going room to room, and spoken to everybody, about my grave concerns for sweet, darling, forth-coming Mei’s well-being, and what we could do with good intentions.
Mei is Woe texted me at midnight last night that her long-suffering mother who had recently had a heart attack, was precariously close to death, and she needed cold hard cash, for her oven which was on the blink, convection.
Several insensitive colleagues howled with laughter upon hearing this news, sharing that Mei Is Woe’s mother had passed in ’84, ’91, and ’08 before they started writing down for what went the money collection.
Mei is Woe was eliminated from my phones after she abandoned me for a psychiatrist, who would not write a doctor’s excuse, but whisked her away from the world, possibly understanding Mei is Woe’s chronic affliction.
Numb.... Lonely
Staring at the same gloomy rain
dripping down 2 different
window panes
over 300 miles away
Feeling alone & ashamed,
full of regret because of how
we hehaved
but not giving up
bc this Actual, Magical,
One of a kind love
is just too unfathomable
to not crave
its right there out of our reach,
our plans, wants & goals
so easy to speak
but walls of fear deadlock life's gears,
and we rolled backwards
without even realizing we were
so far gone,
my dear
we did this together
but you gotta honestly tell me
if climbing back up w. me by your side
is going to be too heavy
I can only love you if you let me
I need you just as much,
You're the only one that gets me
and accepts me,
and my damaged beyond repair, crazy drug addicted brain
we drive eachother insane
but it could be so much different
we can be happier than ever
its an uncontrollable animal instinct
I wish that whenever you got mad
you'd just shut up & kiss me
before the bullet filled words
rip through my heart
& every single one hits me
like im marked with a bulls eye
all we need is stability,
but the chaos continuously emerges instantly
Making repetitive decisions.
Stumbling once more
into this drug-addicted trap,
lost thoughts begin bleeding out
on paper.
While those forgotten run overtime
beneath the subconscious,
in attempts to illuminate
what my eyes cannot hide.
This never-ending shift
in the revolving door of emotions and morality
leaves me without breath,
somehow still breathing.
Cut open is my flesh,
as rogue thoughts crash like waves upon the shore.
Restless is my mind,
while eyes lock in a steady haze.
The dryness in the air
causes blinking eyes to wonder
how most lose their sight.
Not many stop to ponder.
To live faceless
in a blinding world.
Hearing the pain
in another's song—
we must be related.
Having poured out all of oneself,
questions remain.
Was it ever love?
Or always lust?
Voicing these realities
becomes like a temperature
too hot to touch.
Unable to unsee
what has become fragile,
while I became careless.
Zelda Twilight Wishes
(Credit to game creators of Twilight Princess)
As Link I become imprisoned in myself in Highrule land
Like a drug addicted monkey I take my task in hand
Midna, a creature from twilight world enchants me
I transform into a wolf as she rides upon my back and laughs
Two wild creatures set out to find their quests
I need to free Zelda from the hands of evil Ganondorf
Midna commands me, makes me attack a creature
Some creepy thing called Zant from her dark world
Later I’m turned back to human, somewhat wounded
Ample tools, arrays of gadgets can be found around the land
For destruction and for sport to vanquish evil on the spot
Rupees too and health are everywhere in treasure boxes
I have blisters on my hands and fingers from vanquishing beasties for the girls
Zelda, The Twilight Princess, happy with my accomplishments
Says; “Thank you Link!” “I wish you well.” Then puts me on her Christmas list
After all this fighting I’m getting twisted. I don’t even get a good-bye kiss
She sat pondering her minds broken into places
sifting through the files of a worn out relationship.
Why was it soooo hard to write thoughts into sentences
on those days with the rains sweeping through the pain
of such craziness? She knew it wasnt because of her
laziness. Maybe, just maybe, She needed to pray on
bended knees for some kind of reprieve and a storm
clearing release because of the melancholic drama of
just being with drug addicted scenery, not seeing, but,
actually seeing the lies in his bleeding with his wallet
bare and cleanly sniffed out by hiding his feelings.
She sat there..... .reeling.....with mind numbing feelings.
They laid her in a tomb, only the bagpiper and I.
The Scotsman, with his pipes, played a dreary dirge,
I stood tall, no tears just intense anger.
A haggard breeze flowed around the verdant trees,
Ruffling the dreary flowers that adorned her tomb.
A hit and run: Dead on the spot.
A mad drug addicted driver who killed my lovely wife.
How can I forgive? She was my love.
Thoughts ran amok in my head.
No tears, just revenge.
Seething with anger I bought a pistol.
I searched for him in his stuffy cabin.
Found him in stupor on his smelly single bed.
Took out my weapon, checked bullets.
The smell in that cabin made my stomach lurch.
Could I kill him in cold blood?
Vengeance is mine, said the Lord.
Angrily, I left and threw the gun in a deep lake.
I could only hold back my tears.
17 August 2021
Holding Back Tears
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
The Law is not Above the Law
By Franklin Price
05/30/2020
The law is not above the law
Cops were never meant to be
Although their lives are on the line
While protecting you and me
Every stop or high speed chase
Could put them in the ground
The bad guys get the first shot
When the lawless are around
The drunk and drug addicted
And criminals by the score
Object when apprehended
And bring violence to the fore
Cops supposed to take it all
And never lose their cool
Not supposed to fight back
When assaulted by some fool
Not everyone can be a cop
Not those, who are inclined,
To assault those they're arresting
With deadly forces on their mind
God forbid they kill someone
This thoughtless one in blue
Or they are killed because of it
Because of how they view
No one is above the law
Not those from either way
The lawless, or the lawful,
Who violate the laws, must pay
Those who look the other way
Refuse to prosecute the law
Should also be accountable
To be the law is not a draw