Overdosed Poems

Shey Faaji Lo

Ayaba, Let's go to Oniru beach
Where I can be your man, and you my ,
With the waters splashing on our feet,
Ayaba Let's ensure boredom suffers defeat;
While the palm fronds clap and whistle around,
And the ambiance of paradise abound,
We fit take time chop some jollof rice,
Fried tolo tolo overdosed with spice;
African queen is what the JBL is playing,
But we ain't listening to what it's saying
For our hearts are singing a song more melodious 
So beautiful that even tubaba go dey jealous;
Ayaba, you may been from the clan of yemojas,
Thou with the nicest curve and the baddest ass.
Dey with me as I stroke the length of African afro,
Cos I dey feel like say I don dey drunk with your shayo!

Niggyraslife the poet #2025

The Stars Have Stopped Shining

All of a sudden
The stars have stopped shining
Blimming sadness in Heaven
Too many babies are maimed and hurt
Too many infants are starving and suffering
Too many women are crying and mourning
And too many men are being sought
For summary executions
Where countless elders of the sad nations
Have disappeared without a trace
The pain is excruciating. What a disgrace!

All of a sudden
The sky has become extremely dark
Bloody chaos in Heaven
The cemetery is in the park
The buildings are bombed and bulldozed
For heaven’s sake, too many soldiers are overdosed
Where ships, vessels, yachts, boats and canoes are sunk
Somewhere is buried a dead skunk
Where everything is comatose and decomposed
No one can honestly envision a bright future
Where nobody can dry the tears of Mother Nature.

The stars have stopped shining
The moon is visibly absent
The sun is on strike and fasting 
And the weather is eerily aberrant.

Copyright © June 2025 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.

she was my poet

and she was the golden ticket
who didn't fly with me
she didn't make it home in time
she ran inside
of the pain in doubts forced upon hands
hands made of gardens
and wrote to me of hatred
backwards in times twisting cowardice

her nickname was cc
and we fell in love

the purge of our homelessness begins again

she had a son in the beginning of time
and Valentino's fragrance sang to me

stilled in the files of hell
when i emerged they told me
she overdosed

sincerely, lost irish

Create Something Beautiful

Written By:  D. Collins 1/25/25


Create something beautiful while you're on this earth.
It will still be here when you're long, under the dirt.
Create a masterpiece molded from your own hands.
Inject the juice that extends your family Clan.

You take that seed and give it nothing but good.
Tell them the things you'd change, if you could.
Then, they go into life with some experience.
In knowing Daddy ain't taking no nonsense.

Create something good before you leave this earth.
Show the whole world your value and worth.
Give something back to show you were here.
Give them a Meika overdosed in high gear.

Insanity

Morning glory,
The mountains stand in brown nudity,
There's no shame in being mighty echoes the wind,
The air is taut with the brooding silence of a storm,
It will rain tears sooner or later,
And the roar of affliction will cut through the silence,
The rage of war will be a din,
Churning cataracts of unceasing wants,
Our hunger refuses to be quenched,
We are obsessed with ambition,
Drunk with desire,
To taste the elusive glory,
Of phantoms dancing on the apex,
Like shifting hues playing charades with overdosed pride,
We chase the wind and  fight for the mountains,
Who will speak sense to our senselessness?
Who will stop us from storming the gates into the city of madness?
Who will stop us from claiming the lofty place of dark desire,
As we sit on the throne of insanity?

October

In October, in SoCal, where I was raised, 
the hot, dry Santa Ana's blew.
The years since then sure flew, 
and in every one, the wild fires blazed. 

Each year, the month ended with witches and ghosts,  
and candies by the score. 
Could we eat much more
before, with sweets, we overdosed? 

In Kindergarten, on my sixth birthday,
I brought cookies for Halloween,  
orange, black and green.
My mom sent me to school with a tray.

Today, October brings a mixed emotion,
It sends the summer away, 
but I guess that is okay -
It sets the holidays in motion.

The New King

 Simple slacks, nymphomaniacs bent over against the wall

   Training tracks, trapped out shacks three pirouettes then fall

     Switching blues not of the clues pills not measured in balls

       Way to close the overdosed introducing the new King Fentanyl...



                               

                                       bmdavey@08/2024

The Reunion

Gently cries the child
Into the night
Listening for that soothing voice
Just a loves throw away
But mum’s not listening
Mum’s overdosed
Sinking deeper into a toxic haze
Eventually dying with the needle pointing heaven bound
Gently cries the child
Into the night
Listening for that soothing voice
Just a loves throw away
Mummy’s calling to you
Not be long now precious
Not be long.

Diagnosing

If you had one year of love,
and then you had to say adios,
should you be glad or morose?

Sure, if it ends, it’s not what I’d hoped,
we just weren’t destined to be betrothed.

We had fun, we were close and jocose,
we snogged until we practically choked,
and we did ALL the fun things that were gross,
but our forte was that we felt safe, I suppose.

Now, I’m not saying it’s over, but I tend to diagnose things 
and while I wouldn’t say that we love overdosed,
I would guess that we’ve shared more love than most.

Sum Movies

Some movies, we want to experience, again and again,
from the prologue, until it crashes, into the credits.
With waves of laughter and tears, oft happily afters.

Some movies, we value the sum, wishing to whiplash
through the reel, for its too real, with smoking guns.
We love the family hugs at the start, but it breaks our hearts
all through the middle parts, as if we’ve been gutted or shot.

Specially, taking the loved ones into a church, securing
the doors and nailing the windows shut. Claustrophobia
of the sinister, of the dark, of the red and blue flames.

The splinters, the bruises, the beatings, the fear, the burn
hold onto the credits, tear through the compassionate soul.
The movie was gut-wrenchingly good, but torturous.

We sigh, as we say our goodbyes, especially when
we know that the actor has overdosed, joined the dead
in his youth. The truth of weaving a tale, summing up life.

6/20/2023
Trying to make it through “The Patriot”

Overdose

I’m not overdosed by medicines
I have been overdosed by your love 
Oh! Sorry! by your SMILE

Newland

Ah this is the life
Waited on, my every need
Lazy floating in my bubble
With the beat soothing me
Soft and warm
Protected and content

A Drum Beats
Louder Now
Battle Sounds A Calling
I Know Not What For 
But My Peace Is Broken
Pressure All Around
My Heaven Closing
As The Ambush Begins
Helpless Into A Hostile World
Untied From My Chain
I Gasp Anew And Scream
As The Monsters Crowd
My Senses Are Overdosed
I Am Presented
Following Safety Checks
To The Queen
I Feed
This Is A Coup

My Cousin Is Gone Gone

My fifteen-year-old cousin is gone.
I thought they meant she had run away.
She was gone gone.
Deceased. She had overdosed.
My only family member on drugs.
There was lots of wailing and crying.
Grandma was inconsolable.
Much blaming. Her mom’s fault. Her dad’s fault.
No one said it was her fault. She was a saint the instant she died.
I stayed out of all the blaming.
I saw my cousin last night in a dream.
She was running toward Jesus.
He had his arms stretched out in welcome.

Counting Sheep

Maybe I need a Doctor;
Therapy session wasn't enough to get me proper.
Bring me the best singer;
All these lullaby can't heal my insomnia

Why leave?
Why have you done that to innocent me?
You didn't just left my heart with a hole, 
You went away with my soul.

I feel like I'm overdosed on Hallucinogens,
Because every night I'm having bad dreams
What are these things?
What have you done to me?

I need piliton,
Maybe you used love portion
then you left, While you enjoy with your next
Your X is on bed Counting sheep to get rest.

Philadelphia

What would this city be like 
If no one dies tonight?
If bullets stop flying?
If innocent lives weren’t dying?
Because these streets are like a war zone
And one night you just might not make it home
Tell me what would Kensington be like if there wasn’t any drugs?
And when will the city truly become the city of brotherly love?
Because there’s too many stories to tell
How a life has ended under the cities El
And over there on Lehigh
They’re prostituting just to get high
I’m just wondering what would the city be like 
If no one overdosed tonight 
And right outside of city hall
A homeless man sleeps up against a wall
Thirsty and hungry
To understand it takes the strong me  
Cold and alone
Abandoned buildings now called home 
I just wonder what the city would be like 
If no one went hungry tonight 
And I don’t want the city to be portrayed this way 
So I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure it doesn’t stay this way
Philadelphia!

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