I've been trying to poet off and on
now for awhile - but it's hard for a guy
like me, born and raised in small towns.

I've never really learned to swear,
not like a poet anyway. Not like Bukowski.
I mean, what kind of poet would

the world expect me to be? Except that
I'll admit I can drink with the best.
A Huffstickler I'm not, or a Bukowski,

or Etter, or Kerouac - guys who knew the
big towns, the *****, the dives, the rehabs,
the back alleys, park benches, soup kitchens,

flop houses, drug pushers — Humm, come to
think of it, we got all those here. But not
the all-important big town poet attitude.

I'm just this hick, delusional perhaps,
trying to fill a blossoming hole inside
of me that grumbles and claws for more,

and there's gotta be more to life than this crap.
In poeting I used to try and rhyme, like as
in "poor" and "*****", but there's

no rhyme to life, just grab it and clench.
Just life, death, burial and maybe a little
something for the dog afterwards.

The preacher says there's more,
the devil tells me to forget it,
(I'll listen to him occasionally).

So, for me, I'll probe a little deeper and
scrutinize a little harder, perhaps drink a
little heavier, and maybe find a plug

out there that'll fill the hole inside me.
Maybe even put it in words.
Become a poet.
--

I learned that it's always ok to die, to cry, to fly, To fill the emptiness inside with stupid lies, to Hate, it's always ok cause it's your faith
It's ok to struggle with your pain
You are numb, but you are in the same way
You feel, I feel but, we bury our feelings in the same field
Encouraging  they sound, they just want you to Jump from the same height
You know it's ok to be afraid from the light
Cause you were born in dark times
It's always okay, but when will it be ok to be okay?
When will i have a good day for the whole day !
Cause I'm trying to embrace
I look all around me, and i see rehabs
Them people need a decaf
This is where you are trying to put me at
But I am going to put you at it, amma show how to be a drug addict
But this is what I’m trying to do, write my Feelings down so i can beat you
You're being unresponsible
But the funny thing is, you are who helped me grow, but I still know Im weak inside but wont let it show, won't let them stupid people know that i still have hope
And just want you to know
I always let the door closed, just for you to sketch your feelings and go.

The plaster is off
and everything's fine
the rehabs a killer
but it passes the time
These weight bearing stretches
can't go on forever
as titanium rods hold my poor leg together.

Burdened in the cool resentment, of self betterment, hesitant, in its clause, licking pennies from the paws of wolfs, misunderstood and no good in the laws of men, force me on the bench again, and expect to lessen, the sentence, of the commitments pushed to the petal in the proprietary pustules of must haves, postulated from rehabs, of labs and rats, stabbed with needles and smacked, when i doze off, I'm going to go off, like a bomb in class, painting the blast in a bright flash, of mmy baaads.

I'd like to charge,
the government.
With crimes,
against humanity.

Giving M.B.E's,
to hairdresser's.
Only goes,
to prove,
their vanity.

Elderly man
evicted.
Reeked of,
mental health.
Makes me fkin sick,
cos they have,
so much wealth.

Always pointing fingers.
Blood dripping,
from their hands.
yet giving,
tax relief,
to appease,
their Tory fans.

They have no,
understanding,
of what benefit,
equates.
As we conserve,
energy.
they increase,
fuel rates?

They talk of,
unemployment,
like its a,
personal choice.
Jumping to,
conclusions.
As though we,
have no voice.

They've,
no desire,
for shelters.
No funding,
for rehabs.
No interest,
in soup kitchen's.
Or people,
dressed in rags.

DO NOT
be a pawn
in their,
game of chess.
DO NOT fall,
for the lies,
that they suggest.


Destroying their,
own people.
welfare reforms.
Yet writing every,
penny down,
on expenditure,
allowance forms.

Don't they know,
its wrong?
state paying,
for second homes.
When those,
supporting families,
survive on,
payday loans.

Humbled,
working people,
queuing at,
food banks
I wonder,
what goes on,
amongst the,
Tory ranks?

The truth,
of austerity.
11 % bonus,
increase.
The injustice,
of it all,
destroys,
my inner peace.

It's obvious,
their strategy,
to conquer,
by divide.
lining their,
own pockets,
before they,
run and hide

(c) mandy rigby 09/01/2014

Ive Been in 3 Different Residential
Rehabs & 5 Outpatients.
Sadly, Neither Have Worked Because
iM Out Here Doing The Same Thing.
Finding How To Get
A Dope Fix.
iDont Want To Go back
Hate the past experiences but iknow
iNeed iT Urgently.
Should be recommended Mandatory
iNeed Major help before
IEnd up losing my self again
Im in the middle. Before i get
Stuck once again.

When you run, with feet following army like commands
Strong flight through wispered haven, you stand untouchable
Its the moments when you stop
When you breath. Exhale.
Its the moments when youre stuck between an impulse and a drag
The cracks widen and you don't even realize you're falling
The pull you in to a place beyond rescue
Face first fury
Wide eyed you can't remember what moment what decision what happened to bring you to this place
No blond girl with eyes of gloried youth tells herself this is what she's going to end up like
Nobody would wish it upon themselves or anyone else
The cracks widen and you tear the pages of a book written with ink you taste through your blood. You gasp for air and the exhale gets stolen
Taken with red finger tips, another reminder, and placed on your door
Remember the weakness
Remember how you swore this was the last time
Take your breath back
Cry inky tears as you bring it down under your skin
Its yours again but its alien and foreign and you cry until the ink bleeds wine
You had youth on your side and desperation in your veins
No rehabs cures breathlessness
That's the goal after all this time
Bring back the blond haired girl with a sharp nose and a crave for sharp love

No Exit No Retreat

We CHARGE
Into love
There is
No RETREAT
It’s instant addiction
That cannot be
Beat

Love’s addiction
Is like no other
While trying to
Abstain
Forever
You’ll love her

There are
No rehabs
No 12 steps
If the arrow is true
There are
No Exits

Bill MacEachern August 14,2023

i never drank to get drunk
but at times
i got drunk as i drank.

wondering why i drank...
i recall
a friend who never saw 44 at all.

Ft Lauderdale spring break
so pretty and sweet and petite
who could have ever seen
what a few
would eventually do
to you.

at least 3 rehabs
Betty Ford counting among them
you recounted how many
spoke of all the chardonnay
that finally got 'em.

at times i envied your easy life
or so it seemed.
new home,
new sheets and towels
bright white carpet and all.

successful husband
diamond jewelry
art on the wall
mercedes benz
and money too.

no worries about bills
to pay
jobs to get
love to find.

but i liked your VW beetle much better
and your painter's pants on you,
so chic and popular at the time.
your so sweet a nature
honest and true
generous and all.

blonde and adorable
the years took their toll.

i never knew the pain
you were going through,
you never told.

what an education
you did give,
when finally you
revealed
where you had gone,
where you had been.

tales of hidden bottles,
drinking on the sly,
hiding and covering
all of the lies.

the cops couldn't believe,
you could still be alive,
with a blood alcohol level
of 4 point 0.

how we grow strong,
build up the tolerances,
until they amaze and astound
each and even every one of us.

the years and the glasses,
caught up with you,
the first place you begin to bleed,
or so i learned,
when your liver goes  
and starts to harden
and your blood can't flow,
is through your neck and throat.

blood transfusions,
they
helped for awhile,
then one night.........

well one night...
that was all.

a cautionary tale...
for all you college bound...
you never know which one of you will be the one...
who never sees your next sun
the next sun's light.

Part of persons character
that has a genetic origin

Engulfed in the chromosomes
What defines us
What classifies
What makes us differs

Jackson
Hey son,did you see back there
Six ,you dribbled past these opponents and the stadium was in uproar
Like an antelope running from predator
And 2 goals by half time
Your thrilling moves and moonwalking dance
In celebration
Your DNA match your grandfather, he was a legend in his time

Rehab
"Hic hic"poor daughter of mine
Hiccups of cheap liquor ,lazy waek body
Puffing,stripping and cracking
You are a shame
You have become a shareholder of rehabs
The DNA of your mother still thrive
She went to another life
just because she couldn't survive

Mike  " Mic"
The drum beats for the rhythm
The violin takes over to rhyme
Mike for the mic sings a popular local song
That the audience sing along
"Even his daddy was like him,I liked his "DNA don"song!" Paul his father's friend exclaims

You.
I know you more than you believe I do, I’m afraid, so what you say has already been affirmed or denied by what I know about you.
I can feel that you’re hurting, but you won’t tell me what’s really going on, I’m not sure if giving up is an option that’s not worth the risk.
I’m afraid that you might hurt yourself, or worse. Is that such a bad thing? You don’t talk, you don’t eat, you don’t cry, you don’t bathe, you don’t think. You’ve nearly convinced me that you’re an addict of some sort, and it scares me.
I talk to you nearly everyday for the next few months to chill you out after rehabs, after your second and third chances, but you relapse severely again and again like you don’t want to quit. I cut you off and you cut your wrists. How can you resist? You resist me, the helper of the haul to you, you block me off as if I’m not wanted. But regardless, I’m here, like it or not.
I love you enough to care. You disappear for days and come back higher than the skyscrapers that I believe you imagine about. But when you come down hard into my arms you find the sensibility to cry at yourself. But it could be for my sake only, but it’s not working, I’m losing sleep over you, your health deteriorating, you’re stealing from me like I’m the enemy, but I’m still the only pillar that your castle has to stand on, and regardless of how hard you push, the weight of my position keeps me glued to you so that you don’t fall any harder.
But you won’t listen to me anymore, you’ve basically fired me from your life, who am I to complain, but then, who am I to comply? I know you want it, but you need me, and so all I can honestly do is pray that you don’t overdose on your pride or anything else long enough to get help…
I’m too late, they’ve found you once more, bruised, beaten and stuck in the clouds of your mind, laughing at nothing and speaking gibberish that even you probably can’t understand. Dying, beaten, hurting, needing, wanting, having. I should’ve been there with you, holding your hand making sure that the harm didn’t go to you. But they couldn’t give you back to me, they couldn’t help you out of the stupor that you had stooped to. And I couldn’t help either. It was time to let you go, permanently, I’m afraid. Why did you have to go? Why did you have to give into the desire for it? You knew it would only hurt you, why did you do it to yourself, to me?
The thunder claps in my ear as I cry at the grave of the loved one I used to know. Rains pour on me, winds rage, emotions flair. You’ve been in the ground for under two days and I already miss you. I miss everything about you… even your habit. I know what it does, but you’re gone, what do I have to lose?

My attitude has changed, my paradigm of the world has been tainted with the taste of sorrow and the funk of death. I become a phantom in skin, the angel of demons or the demon of angels, regardless, I feel alone and unwanted. And thus I follow you once more, thinking of you with syringes around me, life ebbing and waning, eyes shutting but slowly opening revealing an area of the city that I had never traveled to, a place in my domain that was foreign. I wanted to leave, but go where? And thus, with the face of you in my view and the thought of your voice in my ears, I slip down the road less traveled, following your footsteps once more.
Love lost, heart faded, alone in his own creation. The god has fallen, the wrong path has been taken…

In close you see the soulless monster
addiction swelling goblins concert
Pharmisists are God
And God's synonymous with doctor
Rehabs not an option.
When your the sheep being taught your  meant for slaughter.
Promise
I'll go broke to know my honour
When my Hope's have
Flown alone. Like whisps
Of smoke upon the water...

Clean
——-
Pauly walked toward
Me holding his coffee
I’d known him for 20
Years since his release
From prison ,the old tattoos
Now covered over with
New colourful ones ,&
Being 60 hadn’t softened
His stringy muscular frame .
The once handsome face
Showing the signs of 12
Rehabs & 30 years of abuse
His smile still seemed foreign
For a man who’d carried a shield
of anger around for so long.
I’d known his wife ,she survived
Serving coffee at my local
Seemed nice but think they
Shared the same penchant
He says I’m clean now mate
17 years
I’m glad ,he’s intelligent
Kinda philosophical
Says he can look back now
Understand what caused
The crash
Thought sleeping in cars
At taverns was the norm
States.. hate my father
But I’m so much like
The old ******  .and I’ve
Been going to the Buddhist
Temple
Learning to meditate
no good tho  keep
Nodding off and snoring
Need a nudge
haven’t been to the 12 step
for a while either
So gotta get out and meet
People
His coffee now gone
We shake hands
He walks away
Smiling peacefully

Mac

There I was
standing intertwining
there with the stars
in your hands

I cannot fathom then
How here or them
The earth spins
With my emotions
I'll grasp onto what's cool

Cold with a kiss
My lips
I'll sing bliss
With your hands
Wrapped around my wrists

Tug and pull
The earth's grounds shook
Beneath your mind
It'll shine
Even after
They lay you down
One final time

Divine, oh divine
My arts a curse
And this is my favourite verse
Winners applaud
For the greatest one of them all
Their biases with their high chair
Spoon fed gin rehabs

Take back my class
because it's really not that bad
lemon citrus tongue
are you having fun?
sour shook sweet
how come in my dreams
I have no teeth?

Glum glum
Let's have some fun
The world is a ***
Beauty ridden in its soils
Souls boils

Jest and laugh
Take back what's ours
Your frown is my moon
Pretty as a smile
Breath of fresh air

On our worst days
it's the sun
but the moon comes
for a full run
the best is yet to come