Opium Poems - Poems about Opium

WHEN RELIGION BECOMES YOUR OPIUM When religion becomes your opium you slip into icy pre-dawn to mosque then lie in fever flu at dusk as bilal calls again for you to stumble towards beckoning forefinger guilt chalices cringing crying You chant morning to night wrapped in dirty linen blights mantras channelled centuries ago resin rosary threadbare kitabs torn, curtains undrawn biscuits...

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I was looking at my life online. Sure, looks like I’m having a great time. My world filled with smiling faces; Look at all the wonderful places. But listen to me folks, here’s the deal; Only part of what you see is real. Just like too much whisky, wine, or weed; Online excess to dark places leads. The online world by design deceives, Confusing...

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The stars welcome me with their mist. Summery, divine, by a waltzing moon, Lovingly, most appreciatively kissed. In the shadows of night, is my...

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A paregoric solution might be the ticket. To making me feel more spry like a cricket. If I could find the wonderful opium I need I could start over like a phoenix with baby bird seed....

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by Wayne Wysocki A poppy is pretty and bright And its juice is so far out of sight     That the smoke in a den     Full of dirty old men Makes all of them high as a kite....

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ominous skies of gloom orbit through my head obsessive while oblivious ornery dragons and offspring hovering o’er lofty castles obtusely perched in opulent misty glens of opportunistic prophecy AP: Honorable Mention 2020 Posted on October 30, 2018...

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Hope is not just a tranquilizer, It's a placebo To keep you alive Till the doctor comes! Never you lose hope, never! Hope is not just an opium, When the chips are down, Hope is that part of you That keeps you alive It keeps you looking at the brighter side! Problems are strong, fears are stronger, But the smallest hope, could conquer them...

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Humans live lives governed by opium smoking and addiction difference is the type of opium all grow opium all trade opium all love opium Music is opium for those who love dancing Alcohol is opium for those who love dizzy feelings Love is opium for those who love, love Power is opium for those who love manipulations Religion is opium for those who love heaven The gun is opium for those who...

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Eyes that cry in anguish, Uncertain and alone. Seeking some solution And searching for a home. When we used to play as kids, In contentment’s warm embrace, Was the smile I saw each day But a mask upon your face? Haunting memories past, Trapped in voracious pain. A chance to fill an empty heart,...

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When the Opium wears off, my bones begin to ache at every passing breeze, my muscles succumb to gravity’s will, and my skin is a blanket of pain. When the Opera finally ends, the silence is as deafening as a drowning violin, as lonely as a lost feather floating on wandering wind, as painful as heartache and heartburn, and as uncomfortable as undersized undergarment, woven of wool, and...

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she said the cold with out the snow is just stupid and i always get down in the winter i've seen the bad side of good the good side of being down and everyman seems to be his own god damn prisoner some days are like tomorrow and mean nothing i been known to lose it all sometimes i just calm...

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tears fall from the eyes of a broken soul lost without her mate of choice the shrunken soul ask for the truth of the lie to be revealed. From beyond, the Sufi whispers to the forsaken soul frantic like a child without bottle she to the machine has become the token soul. Asked if her pride could bear the truth...

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by Michaelw1two inspired by the word works of Gabriela Markova like opium, desire climbing the door; entering in the keyhole, today done, and no tomorrow; the past, reliving those memories, misery firmly displaced by smiles; out of my mind, floods my truth, into this moment’s secret dreams; like opium, pleasuring apparitions soothe; pain, woe, and misery...

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AS OPIUM OPINED On the mantle of my memory over fantasy’s fireplace is the remembrance of that one most precious evening when snow consecrated and baptized our roof along with its promise of a childish sleigh ride in the morning But that single cherished night meant so much more than the next violet colored dawning We watched as...

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OPIUM OPINES On the mantle of my memory over fantasy’s fireplace is the remembrance of that one most precious evening when snow consecrated and baptized our roof along with its promise of a childish sleigh ride in the morning But that single cherished night meant so much more than the next violet colored dawning We watched as the...

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