WAITING IN LIMBO
Sitting on the muddy banks
Of faded realities,
Lingering in the spaces of time,
Lost souls struggle:
Seeking another Dreamer.
Powering pawn brokers,
Tighten their mogering grasp
Beyond the setting sun;
Leaving frailed victories festering
And waning in winds of change:-
White opiates coagulate,
Flowing black dreams
Of mesmerized minds;
Oblivious to fading freedoms
Chained and rotting away:-
As time and life sag on,
Let’s not be as a drooping bosom
Sagging due to incised-bleeding;
Rather, let’s be as pregnant wombs
Breaking waters of liberating justice:-
Indeed, let’s scream renewed life,
Nourished keloid-ancestral-navels,
Waxed and hardened by sarcasm
Against the trumping-musky rhetoric
Streaming against democratic equity:-
Webs of a certain color
The wheels of dancing
Silk under the stark stars
Love unwitting
Hatred spinning
Filling the night with choices
A black rustle of her mind
Challenging the corners
Where pets play and music sifts
Jovial matters in witting the ring
Towering the shake of debate
Anchoring the blood of soon
The relenting attack a fever still
Touring the measure
Her eyes, opiates
Her bread wrecking
The siren in her well
Love, her lease
Hatred her paw
Among the misunderstanding
It's seven weeks now into my recovery,
too much couch time and lots of tv..
I stopped my subscription to CNN, no longer
in need of a biased news trend..
My local news channels have kept me in touch,
with the weather, crimes, and opiates too much..
I discovered the World Channel is just what I need,
a global perspective with the most balanced feed..
Penn State offers this broadcast for free and it
comes with wonderful educational documentaries to see..
I love learning about people and cultures I'll never see, on
our wonderful planet with such diversity.
Their journeys, their struggles, their resiliency,
restores my faith in humanity..
Where's Jack Nicholson?
Where did he go?
Is he dead yet?
Does any one know?
Wars, and opiates,
mass shootings and debt,
and that potential nuclear threat.
Is this truly as good as it gets?
One might end up with Tourette's,
as good as it gets..
The NHS ~ so many memories
But mostly of my children being born
And love and opiates, both made to ease
The pain that wakes a body up at dawn
You open up the curtains for us, mop
Our blood up, help our babies take a breath
Hold hands over our hearts until they stop
And close the curtains quietly when death
Comes in the evening. Can I thank you for
The many things that you have done for me
The medicine, the extra mile, and more
For me, my neighbours, and my family ~
And all the people only you have known
Whose hands you held and didn't die alone
© Gail Foster 5th July 2023
Lying here with a straw in my hand.
Contemplating tying off with a band.
Wish I could just stop this s**t.
Withdrawals back, let this be my last hit.
Got put on, took 3 days to make a band.
Racked up a couple grand, before I lost the woman who made me a man.
Now I'm lost in a desert wasteland.
Inhaling this sin like sand.
Don't know how much more I can stand.
I've lost everything.
Everything, except my empire of sand.
It is the cruelest of hate
Creeping like an imposturous reptile
In the morning light of Eve’s Garden
Fangs dripping with malice
Searching for tender flesh to taste
Cruel hate clandestinely charging
Uncharged minds
Innocent ones
Too young to leave
Too old to hold on
Hissing rancorous lyrics
Like a street pusher pandering opiates
To abject addicts
Hate creates images of a fresh world
Socially acceptable to his guiltless prey
It is the cruelest of hate
Proffering empty promises of transcendent fame
Lying in the wake of the fallen ones
Dead on square tiled floors
As muted school bells forget to ring
From sandy grounds to tangled woods
To weeping waterfalls on a westbound highway
Counting the dead
Nineteen names prancing across digital screens
Held in hands too small to tremble
Hate authoring hallucinations
To guard against truth
It is the cruelest of hate
Peering through the eye of a grooved cylinder
Pushing calloused flesh against curved steel
Lead projectiles penetrating
Again, and again
Unblemished innocence
Teddy bears held against beating hearts
And the let go dreams of
Our children
It is the cruelest of hate
Oh, Death where is your ring?
How many more moons will crown the vault of Heaven
Ere’ your folded, flesh-starved fingers
Surround bells that toll
Will you approach, hearing my cries
Rising from the depths of despair
Begging for you specter
Longing to taste your stale breath
Across my lips
Cruelly ignoring my last song
Tarrying within the darkness
Of wicked reverie and irrevocable return
A sneer scintillating deadly desires
Oh, Death lay bare how long
Ere’ the blade in my hand’s
Querulous path draws forth
Crimson streams freeing the scars of misery
Discharging the captor called Opium
Come, whisper caustic rhymes in my ear
Exhaling breath tainted
With the stench of annihilation
Usher me into your bosom
Persuade my wavering hand
To carve away
Etching an endless trail
Of miserly shame
Doing what the gods denied
Doing...
What I have been unable to do
sultry siren soft whispers this night
sweetly singing her hypnotic score-
echoes keep my heart from fright
logic dispelled and so much more.
goddess of my dreams drifting near
a melodic chant swirls soothing me-
swift this embrace makes it clear
love that’s divine in her eyes I see.
creature of loving brings me where
thoughtful reposes drift in dreams-
sighing gently a mesmerizing stare
her touch hot thunder so it seems.
breathing her rapturous flowers in
soft gently caressing her body bare-
ease into a trance dance hot within
love’s opiate mist filling the air.
fervent touches soft passionate sigh
thunderous like waves often can be-
under the gaze of the moon so high
a song so sweet, this joyful revelry.
crimson loins delirious white heat
bodies embracing anxiously meet-
hot opiates deed hypnotizes again
sublimely serene subsides so then.
we never again suffer a lonely day
replete in this dream we shall stay-
to love eternal until cosmic dust
within together ever stay we must.
(click the pic for a preview of my upcoming book!)
Within the delegate thunder that opens portals to the mind,
Opiates navigate the cerebral conundrum of confusion...
Virtual landscapes exist amidst temporary voiceless vortexes,
Temples of time and thought in a quixotic quarantine…
Oblivious oblivions open upon their abstract apprehensions,
One second or a thousand years of anxiety and exotic endeavors...
Hallucinogens hibernating within the unobservant unconscious,
Creative cognitions contaminate the vaulted vaporous voids…
The dreamer's dream of their voyeuristic voyages and false realities,
Fragile forever is fainting with facades fermented upon illusions...
Meditation amongst speculative storms of the penal gland rising,
The Glass Menagerie still stands until it shatters like a lost dream.
May.18.2020
In the fragility of dreams
Sponsored by: Silent One
Placed 2'nd...Thank You
Tears on Mother Liberty
Plutocracy the society they created through the Trump towers, now they regret it Like Iraq having no democracy.
Theocracy seems Like the answer for now, for evil has ruined what was once a great nation, Living all hopeless and faithless.
God bless America!
Down your tools, raise your fists and continue the dream of Martin Luther King bring shame to the fiend debilitating our society.
No more shooting, instead put the blame on Putin and realize BLACKLIVESMATTER.
We can't kill each other or else the assassination of John. F. Kennedy is not an abomination, recreation these kids seizing on opiates therefore we need purple rain through the Prince of peace.
The circus in the White House like Clinton, soldier on like Hilary and let the heart of Obama infect us all with Love for one another whether you black, white, Latino or whatever we are America!
Saša Milivojev - BLIND ALLEYS
Concrete
Glass
Rain
Gloom
All is withered
Black birds
I’m at the beginning
I’m at the end of the alley
O, Virgin
Please
Every verse I will sing
You genuinely verify
Through new eyes
The remnants of people
I recognise in satyrs
That walk around in metropolises
Using lies and cheating
Adorning themselves with others’ merits
Fighting with hidden horns
The remnants of people I recognise
In rabid cats
That lurk and bite
In blind alleys
At pharmacies
In discotheques
At desks and hotels
In exclusive restaurants
In theatres and on screens
Tetanus for the body
While the soul is rolling
Like a ball on the concrete
Wild sex
Opiates and gandbangs
Whips and feet
And blow-up dolls
Business
Prostitutes
Innocent girls
All along the alley
We nourish predators
And see nothing when they catch their prey
Saša Milivojev
www.sasamilivojev.com
Karl Marx thought that religion
Was the opiate of the masses,
Which is true as far as it goes.
In his times and in the circumstances,
He could not have thought better or worse—
Not, for instance, of the boomerang, that is,
The dialectic of Base and Superstructure,
Which could engender a hybrid like hegemony,
Which, in turn, enables ruling by consensus;
Not to speak of adjunct opiates
Like Freudian drives, drink,
Vulgar materialism and what not,
Which, in the past, have driven
Empires to break and kingdoms to crack
And, of late, in many ‘Democracies’ and ‘Republics’
Caused women, men, and parties to rise to power,
Caused (Swiss) Bank balances and vote banks to overflow!
— Ram, R. V.
The DEA will this condemn:
Some pain sufferers take Kratom
Big pharma must reign
They'll rely on chicane
To keep addicts addicted to them
Author's Note: Kratom comes from a relative of the coffee plant. The active ingredient is mitragynine. While this substance acts as a pain killer, it appears much less addictive than the opiates supplied by big pharma. Thousands of people swear by it, and have used it to wean themselves off of more addictive drugs and alcohol. Research on mice has shown that at least mice do not become addicted to this substance. So, naturally, the next step is to ban it!! Do you suppose the drug companies had something to say to the regulators? Thanks uncle sam.
Oh Dr.Oz would you endorse
Visionary entheogens,
Opiates and stimulants to
Find truths,
Unlocking the rooms of the
Universe of the inside?
Following bliss
Finding God ,
The true self
The Astral self
But the loneliest room
Is the one outside.
And the check out time is now.
Oh sick world filled with a million televangelist
And one hundred and fifty channels
Filled with prosperity gospels
And fifty dollar good faith seeds
But the Lord needs a extra sixty.
Oh Mr. Campbell what new myths
Shall we live by?
What new messiah awaits
Behind face one thousand and one?
Oh Dr.Phil help us as we brace our psyches
For the trip back to the moon.
The time is near for
Young men shall have visions
And old men shall dream dreams
As they browse discount racks
With money left over,
After amscott customer service fees.
Oh Lord how long
Till this life rolls up
Like a scroll?
And we stand glorified
Before ourselves
Reflected in the eyes
Of our absentee father?
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