Long Heroin Poems
Long Heroin Poems. Below are the most popular long Heroin by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Heroin poems by poem length and keyword.
We have all been warned, but the sign was there
Staring in her face,
and nothing else was
The food could be drugged
But the sign said “eat me” and “drink me” and “be me”
So Alice did what she was told,
Being a curious girl.
It was her first act of compliance
Could it save her from the rabbit hole?
She was now in a world of small and tall,
life and strife, Tweedledee and Tweedledum
It was a jazzy place, and her eyes were moving fast
Trying to take in what her imagination was bringing
Was she on cocaine then? Heroin?
Let’s see, back in that day
I am going to guess opium….
It is a jabberwocky of a fix to be facing
the Queen of Hearts who is yelling
“Off with her head!” meaning you.
Soon Alice is in the full throes of imagination land
glad she followed the white rabbit.
Pink Cheshire cat, smiling, as she floats
in and out of two worlds.
MY HORRID EXPERIENCE ARRIVED 8-14-2003 WHEN THE ST JAMES GANG ARRIVED WEARING RED DREADLOCKS QUEEN PIN TONI JOHNSON OF ST JAMES JAMAICA ALONGSIDE HER HUSBAND RASTA ANDREW HICKS DRIVING A WHITE TAHOE PUTTING MAC10 GLOCKS UP TO 8 YEAR OLD KIDS HEAD IN ST JAMES PLACE TAMPA FLORIDA TONI JOHNSON POSITION INSIDE THIS STREET GANG OF RACKETEERING HOME INVASIONS ROBBERY INPLANTING MULES WITH HEROIN AND DRUGS SENDING THEM TO CANADA TO MEET OTHER KING PINS THE YOUNG MULES ARE THEN TRADED INTO SLAVERY IN JAMAICA THE FEMALE JAMAICAN GANGLEADERS ANSWER TO SHAMUARAH FORRESTER GANG
LEADER THESE JAMAICAN FEMALE GANG LEADERS BEGAN BREAKING INTO MY HOME IN TAMPA THIS EXPOSED ME AS AN FBI INFORMANT THESE GANG MEMBERS PLOTTED MY DEATH TO PUNISH ME FOR WEARING WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI BUYING WEAPONS AND DRUGS FROM JUNK SICK COPS SELLING DRUGS FOR GARGANO THE JAMAICAN CARTEL SOLD DRUGS OUT OF GARGANO SLUM PROPERTIES THEY ALL ARRIVED TO END MY LIFE JOHNSON AND JOHNSON DRUG CARTEL OF MULES LIVING ON 15TH STREET IN TAMPA TONI JOHNSON HER DAUGHTER JHORE JOHNSON IN A TWISTED ENTANGLEMENT WITH MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND SEVERAL ASSASINATION ATTEMPTS ON MY LIFE AFTER THE HOME INVASIONS THIS EXPOSED THIS FEMALE JAMAICAN TALIBAN GANG TO MY MENTAL HEALTH JOURNAL A FEW OF MY POEMS IT WAS THEN THEY BEGAN ATTEMPTING TO EXTORT MY AMERICAN POETRY MY AMERICAN IDENTITY INCLUDING RACKETEERING MY TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY CLAIM FOR THE DON DUNNA THESE VICIOUS JAMAICAN TALIBAN IDENTITY THIEVES RACKETEERING EXTORTING EMBEZZLING MY LIFE IMPERSONATING ME PERPUTRATING FRAUD UPON ME AND MY FAMILY MY VETERAN SPOUSE WAR HERO TONI JOHNSON JHORE JOHNSON ATTEMPTED TO GET VISAS IN MY NAME HACKING INTO MY VETERAN SPOUSE ATTEMPTING TO EXTORT HIS PURPLE HEART MEDALS HACKING INTO THE VETERANS AFFAIRS SEVERE THREATS BECAUSE I AM A CONFIDENTIAL HUMAN SOURCE FOR THE FBI I AM TRULY BLESSED I SURVIVED MONKIER TONI JOHNSON JAMAICAN GANG LEADER FROM ST JAMES JAMAICA TAINO WITCH OF MARTHA BRAE RIVER WALKING BACKWARDS TO HER DEATH GOD BLESS AMERICA
Other people looking in
Wondering if they would become the heroin
You look, you see, nothing to say
You turn and look the other way
The beating, the blood, the bruise
Not one word to defuse
The slap, the punch
The sound of ribs crunch
The shouting and whipping
The kicks and spitting
And you still choose to walk away
Were you afraid to disobey
Observing made you complicit
Where was your tolerance limit
You left that day, not a peep spoken
But you left me broken
You continued living your life guilt free
Meanwhile they were knocking 7 bells out of me
You stayed silent in order to keep the peace
But wouldn’t dare phone the police
Your silence makes you a coward
I hope that makes you feel empowered
You choose to ignore my cries
Can’t say Its a surprise
You could of changed the course of history
Your choice gave me more misery
You left me with years of mental scars
Testimony could of put them behind bars
They call it protecting family
That is just pure fantasy
You are someone I could never trust
I now look at you in disgust
Anyone who protects an abuser
Is nothing more than tumour
Only decades later when they are dead
Will you say everything unsaid
You will always pick their side
To the end of their story you complied
You are nothing more than a coward
One day peace will be restored
I don’t know why, but it hit me suddenly this morning during my quiet time.
I thought about a city and the people I once met in five distinct communities
A part of me; those seven years of labor, sweat, tears, and prayers, forever reside
The sights and sounds of hurts and miseries abound, and forever surround my heart
The memories and personal experiences regarding them grew me to tears.
It was the night clubs and Go Go dancing of topless girls in Old Town
It was the heroin addicts, horrors, sorrows, and prostitutes on Clark Street;
Burned down buildings, broken glass, drug addicts, at Madison and Western
The forsaken community, anger, and drug chasing at 43rd and Calumet
The high rise ghetto, danger, and devastating fears in Cabrini Green
You too may be familiar with the city that wrapped itself around my heart.
But in reality, it could be many American cities hampered by neglect.
If nothing else, I’m sure the memories force me to never forget them.
May they not be a conversation of politics and a source of statistics
May they never be merely shadows of faces hidden among the masses
But rather, may they be cause for city tears ignited by the heart of God.
08302016 PS Contest, 100 in a Row, Poet Destroyer A
Now 52, she was one of the first heroin addicts I had ever met.
Having been addicted for years, now death was her greatest threat.
Both her days and nights were spent turning tricks and getting high.
Having failed to be free many times, she decided to give it one last try.
She decided to check into Prevention House, which is where I met her.
Her life would be forever changed, beginning that cold Chicago December.
She was tempted to protest, but she felt this time she will not fail the test
She waved goodbye to heroin heaven and said hello to her haven of rest.
Then, there was Mac who was an angry and bitter man bound by alcohol.
He tells a story of shooting a man and the thrill of watching him fall.
Mac later tried alcohol for cheap thrills which became his greatest fall of all. He did beat alcohol but was never able to be cured from cirrhosis of the liver.
Like Flo, Mac overcame his addiction and gained peace with God forever.
122320PSCtest, Addiction Poetry, Rob Levasseur
Addiction is my chosen path
I used to live, I used to laugh
Before this substance took its hold
I would be brave, I would be bold
The sweetness of its sticky lure
Has turned my life to one big blur
Wistful in my choices past
I consider this to be my last
The temptress leads me closer still
I could resist; I will, I will
Just one more dance in her embrace
And then I will forsake this place
Her warmth surrounds my weakened soul
Infiltrates and swallows whole
The dreams I have of being free
When now it is just her and me
I am a hero in her world
My body limp as it unfurled
She lays me here upon the floor
Where I will stay forevermore
Its clear to me and now I know
The lesson learned, though it was slow
Heroin, is no hero
Heroin turned my life to zero
For Chloe, three slices of black Forrest Ham.
Her tired meows that ache, her kitten teeth blackened
And I pet her with a heroin chic hand.
I hear of children with hair that falls out like broom straw,
Lilac bruises littering their knobby knees
And I hear that they are forgotten in 2008.
We are adults now, for those that didn't perish
But we may still bounce from hotel to shelter
Or take cover in the Churches for sinners.
I still think of that feline friend.
The memory jolts me there, every night.
It is all I have; all I can give.
You see that was my ration for the day
And the hunger is eating my ribs.
Mother, she gives Chloe the iron boot
By tossing her to the Giant wilderness
I sob for what feels like fifty lifetimes.
I never see Little Chloe again.
When I wake up in the morning the first thing that bursts into my head is my love. I don’t think I could ever live without HER, she is my Darling. She is strong and pure; she is my HERO. She is my love, my… You see, our love is unlike any other.
Our day starts when I pick HER up from the corner house on Telfair and Fairfax, she is not cheap and is as pure as pure can be. On the drive back home she sits in my pocket on my lap in HER transparent dress. I like HER tightly concealed because it will be a disaster if any of HER were to spill out. When we step out of the truck she is halfway down my pants and I can’t wait to open the door and throw her on the table…You see, our love is unlike any other.
It's unique how an object like love can fit in the palm of your hands; but our love deserves a better surface, preferably I like to have HER in a spoon. This is where things really heat up; as I bring my red flame underneath HER I know this is what gets HER hot, really hot till she is boiling wet. As my skin waits impatiently for the piercing of flesh, I can’t resist but to suck every drop of her up like a syringe. As my arm embraces HER tourniquet hugs; my body screaming for HER injection It’s been craving…You see, our love is unlike any other.
As we lie together with HER in my arm, I can feel HER love flowing through my veins, in my blood, and in my heart. Now I can finally rest as my head falls back and eyelids slam shut. And if I wake in the morning it will be to the knowledge of HER absence, but it’s OK. I know where to find HER at the corner house on Telfair and Fairfax, that’s where I will pick HER up again… My Darling, My Love, My HEROIN.
Form:
Fourteen minutes from Independence Hall
You'll find Hell on Kensington Street
Its a zombie apocalypse, American fall
The worst decay you'll ever meet.
People inject each other with heroin and tranq.
You wonder how the survival instinct warps
Ben Shapiro went there, and his heart sank
He described each loser as a living corpse
He was aghast, he saw people without feet
Rotted away because of the tranq they ingest
Festering bodies, was this once a stately street?
Our founders pledged sacred honor, but did they fail this test?
Prostitutes fill the streets by kids walking to school
The kids walk by the dead, by addicts shooting a last vein
Anyone who advocated for this would be a fool
But we elected one as mayor, isn't that insane?
The DSA platform once said all drugs should legalize
I hope Mamdani gave this up now
But whores on your doorstep, he'll give that prize
Does he know what he's doing, what this will allow?
Plenty of people stoned in New York
But more chaos can be made, does anyone care?
Genie out of the bottle, can't find the cork
Remember Kensington Street, Philadelphia, and despair.
"I've tasted love heroin and will never have that high again"..
(paraphrased quote one from "Notting Hill")
Love heroin is very potent stuff.
It’s not like other drugs; it is for free.
There is no ban on it, but it is tough
to keep that high. It has no guarantee.
Some folks I know can make it last and last.
With just one hit, they’re good for sometimes years!
For most, this drug’s effects can wear off fast,
and then withdrawal brings them pain and tears.
Love heroin can bring such fevered bliss,
some addicts wreck their lives for it, or worse,
would kill for it, so I can tell you this -
expecting it to last is its great curse.
I’ve heard of people my age finding it.
I sure would like myself just one more hit!
Dec. 8, 2016 for the Three Choices Plus Two Which Equals Five
Or I Haven't Got a Clue Contest of Sara Kendrick