Long Prescription Poems
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"Damn, do I really have to go? Do I?"
That's my thought bubble, every time.
I don't know what it is about hospital visits;
Like many, if not all, I hate it like I do cockroaches.
There's something dreadfully morbid
About making these trips, even when
I'm just picking up a prescription.
I bet a hypochondriac feels differently
On my way, my mind gets flooded with
Disturbing imagery of folks bleeding and dying;
Injection needle going into a vein in my arm.
"Ouch!," you say. I know, right? I recoil
At the phrase, "blood work." Call me chicken,
But I'd rather recuperate at home, thank you!
Going to the emergency room almost feels like
I'm headed to the gallows, nope, no kidding!
I sit morosely in the waiting area
For what seems like an eternity
Wondering why I came in the first place;
My inner child growing increasingly jumpy!
Is it just me or does it always feel
Too long at the doctor's office?
He could be simply talking to me
About the weather and my anxious,
Impatient brain would be
In panic mode...
"Are you softening me up for something, Doc? What ails me?
I'll be okay, right? Right!? Stop beating around the bush!"
.
there'z nuhth'n hot'r
there'z
there'z
okay okay
(mind ya)
i just received my
new prescription for
my progressive
len'ziz (sooo timely)
so
anywho
i step'd outside uv
my favorite water'n hole
and there were her'z (across thuh road)
her
pure white
soft star stud'd
lump'd up (where lips go)
panty's puff
When I think about Michael, my eyes start to tear
He never learned to love, the man in the mirror
His gifts Thriller and Bad, made him the king of pop
A true innovator, creating the moon walk
That dirty Diana, never gave him a kiss
He was a smooth criminal, we were the witness
Loved by many millions, he lived behind his gate
Neverland his prison, prescription pills his fate
A life not fully lived, too soon came to an end
He preferred fantasy, a strange world of pretend
He started to early, wanted to be a child
A part of him missing, his talking voice so mild
Still whenever he sang, he created fashion
What could ever compare, with that kind of passion?
He continues to dance, an image on our screen
He was one of a kind, the best I've ever seen
SMOTHER YOURSELF WITH PEANUT BUTTER
You may like chicken and your mate might like it, too
One of you might like peanut butter as cookies but the
Other as a sandwich but that is truly no excuse to often be
Snickering and flickering when you could be getting along
And even dickering or having fun and cooking together ‘like
Two or more birds of a feather’ even if you don’t wear leather
And your name’s not Heather- you do not have to be in tethers
and dithers.
Toss out the old useless medication and all of that stalling alcohol
Switch to an alternative that needs no perspiration or prescription
Or druitions- ‘if there be no purpose it is not needed so toss it all out
And make the switch before you lose your ability to do so otherwise
You are throwing your life away without sway instead of striving
Resist not offered help no matter who or what offer it whether it be friends or
God- it really makes no difference because God is our Divine Father so who
Ever and whatever the offer comes from it’s from God- fret not over how
People communicate nor how advice is given for it has to be given when it is
given- you who need it must really listen, so listen up then smother
yourself with peanut butter
A light instrument flows, ink darkness; folded within
Flowers; a painless, healing, prescription of treatment
Such secure grounding, found; in glowing obsidian
Happiness; gives sharp antithesis of lifes oblivion
Tectonic; the plate layer produces a fiery quill of lament
A light instrument flows, ink darkness; folded within
Waving; a molten brush of colors, results cascadian
A surgeons gift; to be given, a unique scalpel of torment
Such secure grounding, found; in glowing obsidian
Emotional eruptions; give way to a physical custodian
Islands of hope; from a mind, of seas with dubious intent
A light instrument flows, ink darkness; folded within
Feelings so igneous; venting becomes it's guardian
A healing phase; melting purposely cooled stone indent
Such secure grounding, found; in glowing obsidian
A cinder cone; written to perform acts so tragedian
Dormant, till; the next event of this calderas' fulfillment
A light instrument flows, ink darkness; folded within
Such secure grounding, found; in glowing obsidian
If you look at his face
You will see a smile
But look into his eyes
And see the emptiness
His soul is numb
Not even a crumb
From life's table
Left for the dog.
Without hope
Anesthetic emotions take control
Put out the fire
Numb the dream
That filled the pupil of the eye
Suboxon prescribed just narrows the pupil
Until the only thing seen
Is the next meal and prescription...
Nothing else.
The chaplain comes into his sight
Looks at the eyes and not the smile
Relationship established inside emotional bars
The chaplain begins to open some doors
Says "you have some intelligence and an ability to discern"
The surprised prisoner says "no ever told me that before"
The pupils begin to widen and the whites turn a little red
The eyes begin to change.
* Suboxone is prescribed to prisoners. You can tell they have been prescribed this because
their pupils narrows dramatically.
Perdition Be Damned!
Body electric zapped
lower gastrointestinal tract
wracked with wretchedness
pitted, rocked, and tortured
severe muscle spasms cramp
deathly hallowed deliverance
beseech divine creator to exorcise relief
any panacea trumpeted vetoed
pestilential nausea diarrhea
wreaks relentless havoc
horrid ordeal twists insides
lack strength to live
breathing a laborious effort
bedrest temporarily alleviates
generally healthy ironclad junket
weatherbeaten rickety ship of state
restorative sought trouncing unwell
corporeal self against torture
assailing, castrating,
and drubbing existence
avocations ordinarily promulgating
resplendent joie de vivre
squelched, scotched, and sabotaged,
courtesy minuscule mailer daemons
emotions unlikely culprit,
though times gone by anxiety
tindered, pitched, and kindled
abominable irritable bowel syndrome
prescription medication tempered
badgering, crippling, and debilitating
panic attacks plagued this primate
manifesting feeble endeavor
to experience poignant satiation,
asper simple pleasures nonexotic
endeavors merely passively living
as one organic carbon based
human being finding fulfillment
meditating, reading, and writing,
now fleeced, deprived, and blitzed
suspicious disagreeable provender
perhaps lactose intolerance
after enjoying pizza birthday
fours days prior
celebrating chronological centenary,
sans one frail resident here,
Highland Manor Apartments
suddenly, I feel chill o' rigor mortis!
Inexplicable blessing luckily
avoiding potentially grim fate
finds yours truly coming to grips,
how afterlife did not accommodate
the missus, and/or myself unwittingly
loved ones would never acclimate
reality of our permanent absence,
thus existence all the more I appreciate
and attempt poetically articulate.
Herewith the scenario that defies
conventional atheistic wisdom
finding me unable to square
involving 2009 Hyundai Sonata automobile
driven by spouse or her scribe, who dare
not allude to guardian angel,
yet conundrum inexplicable, when
touted as luck, regarding the rear
wheel bearing (passenger side of car)
that went kaput, blessedly ignorance
attributed absented scare,
yet in retrospect taking stock
i.e. how existence imperilled,
now more grateful than ever
toward life, liberty and
pursuit of happiness,
this in essence potential whipped miracle
of sorts presenting possibility
cosmic creative force continually near.
CJ'S TIRE & AUTOMOTIVE,
(1405 South Township Line Road,
Royersford, Pennsylvania 19468)
intuition doth agree
expert knowledgeable SERVICE
familiar personnel employee
since patronizing said facility
(actually franchise sites
scattered across United States), we
regularly return taking car repeatedly
to team of mainly younger,
but wiser technicians than me,
who realizes scant knowledge, née
absolute zero mechanical ability,
especially regarding
twenty first century vehicles
heavily accoutered
with sophisticated technology.
Now yours truly loops
back to (house at Pooh corner -
think Loggins and Messina)
i.e. core theme
Impossible explanation within
the infinite universe scheme
to explain convincingly fluke
protection against meme
evoking death, demise, destruction,
et cetera regarding as ye gleam
teetotaler who avoids Jim Beam
plus alcohol in general, cuz
prescription medication harmful
unless feeling suicidal to thee extreme.
Thus one garden variety, generic guy
NON GMO android (ha)
he doth not fear
the grim reaper at rapier
or gunpoint, nor mortality do I despair
hoop fully made somewhat crystal clear,
a quandary (one among many
that recurred), whereby air
ring professed nihilistically
skeptical minus impulse to destroy
comprises whether doubting Thomas
(English Muffins) stance
on wing and prayer
inadequate, obsolete, untenable...
That man mountain of love
My dad
Hands calloused
Tattoo's faded with time
a joy to be with
There to wipe away my tears
to make things better
My mothers right hand man
an empty wallet
but a heart that was full of love
i see him sat upon a kitchen chair
plastic framed glasses courtesy of the NHS
overalls covered in oil and mud
watching over me
time as passed
and so as he
but i still remember them days
time as slowly ticked away
the days the months the years
its now me whos sat upon that chair
with an empty wallet
looking at the world through
NHS prescription glasses.
Hey Ricky you got any papers or a bowl; I got weed
I only have enough for one bowl or two small joints
Johnny, what you got for Biff’s party, next Saturday
Ohhh!! everybody’s dry I even bought a new bowl
Johnny You know Old Man Jacobson, down the street
Yea, he’s got that yippy dog,the bark’s worst than the bite
I can take care of Shannandoah, she knows me quite well
Well who gives a shi- about old man Jacobson anyway
Old Man Jacobson gets legal “Medical Marijuana”
He should get it tomorrow, I think government POT
Is better than anything we could pick up in Winsor County
Wow YOUR right Ricky Let’s visit the Old Man Tomorrow
Obituaries : Alvin Jacobson, 56 was found shot to death in
His house Friday Night, Police believe his prescription for
“Medical Marijuana” was a Factor in His Death . He leaves
2 Daughters, a Son, 7 Grandchildren and 2 brothers. his Wife
Zerina Pre deceased ten Years Donations to the Medical Relief Fund
A.M.A and Government Approved
Inspired By Michael Jordan’s Contest : “ Medical marijuana “