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Kris Fireheart Mar 2018
Full moon on a
Friday night,
sipping whiskey and
watching sky,

Howl, howl,
at the light,
The wind is pure,
Conditions right.

Southern Comforts I
hold dear,
Seasons won't
affect us.

Peace and harmony,
right here,
In the heart of
Texas.

Light my smoke,
unleash my dog,
A friend is cooking
his dad's wild hog.

Sipping whiskey,  and
making fog,
Full moon on a
Friday night.

A little more ice,
A little less beer.
A little more light,
A little less fear.

These Southern Comforts
I have here,
These friends who sway,
Around me.

The whiskey flows,
The fire glows,
These guys start talking
about old "hoes,"

And everyone knows,
how that **** goes,
Full moon on a
Friday night...
This is tonight, plain and simple.  Tuning out my "frat boy" friends and just enjoying my buzz again...
Kris Fireheart Feb 2018
On lonely days,
when I feel broke,
The kind of day that feels like I've lost
All hope,
It comes to take
Away the pain...

It splits the sky;
It clears the rain.
It sends a ray of light into my
Shadow -filled brain.
For just today,
It'll be okay...

But sometimes,
Sunshine,
It clears away the fog and it helps remind,
That I deserve
This gift of life...

And sometimes,
Sunshine,
Means another day when I can
Let it all out,
And I can smile,
Without my doubts...

On days when I
Sit locked inside,
Feeling so depressed I couldn't laugh
Or cry,
I'd close my eyes,
And step outside...

And sometimes,
Sunshine,
Like a memory from another
Lifetime,
A warm embrace;
My kindest friend...

On endless months,
Or brutal weeks,
Those times when even sleep never
Brings relief,
No drink or pill
Can give me peace...

I lay awake,
Beneath the sheets,
Begging for a dream that doesn't have
To be sweet.
Just let me fade,
And end this day...

But when I wake,
It covers me,
Brightest of them all in the Great Black
Sea,
It seems to say,
"Come out and play. "

See, sometimes,
Sunshine,
Means another day when I can
Never mind,
And leaves me free,
To just be Me...

And sometimes,
Sunshine,
Makes me think about why I
Doubt myself,
This gentle breeze
Can set me free...
I wrote this earlier this evening while watching the sunset at the park. It can be read as either a song or a poem.  The colors  of sunset  always have a way of making me smile,  no matter how ****** I feel that day.
Kris Fireheart Feb 2018
Straight from my hands to my nose.
Numb from my head to my toes.

Take a deep breath,  'cause its not
Over yet,
When your heart starts to pound and your head starts to sweat.

The denominations of your conversations,
They turn to elation and full demonstration,
It rings in your head like a radio station,
This rushed and egregious euphoric sensation,
This white lubrication for socialization,

This is what I call *******.
One of my inspired ******* moments from my early college years. I did every drug in the book before I turned 25. I wanted to "feel" it all... Three years of ****** addiction later,  I finally started to realize that maybe that was a BAD idea...
Kris Fireheart Feb 2018
Shiny shards of slowly death
Rush,  cough,  and take a breath..
Its all they can to re inject
Another night on Tina's breast.

I watch them from afar, disgusted
My two best friends went homeless,
Got busted.

See,  I might do some coke or smoke ***** all day,
But i can't understand this game they all play.

Always crystal or ***** or ****** or yay,
One more way to make my fiery heart fade.

But i told them i wasn't going back to those days,
I'll stick with my greenery, downers and stay...

Alive.
this is a drug poem. Everyone i know does ****, and I hate the changes i see in them.
I've grown up and out of hard drug use,  looking towards my future.  So many i know have not...
Kris Fireheart Feb 2018
A feeling.
A burst of light.
A desperation.
A cry for help.
A hint of joy.
A ray of hope.
A sadness...

Haggard men in tattered clothing
On the concrete sandbars
Of the great black stone
Rivers.
Thirsty.  Starving.
"Thank you and God bless!"

Can you help me?
Do you care?

Pastor sits in his wooden box.
On your knees in your
Private prison.
Pass the collection plate.
Glory,  hallelujah!

Can you help me?
Do you care?

High school kids shoot ******.
One long row of
Slack bodies.
Deep nods.
Where am I? What am I doing here?

Can you help me?
Do you care?

A new government,  built on
Bad decisions.
For the money,  of the moneyed.
Blinding white hair,  trading blood
For precious oil...
"We, the people of the United States..."

Can you help me?
Do you care?

A sadness.
A desperation.
A cry for help.
A burst of light.  
A hint of joy.
A ray of hope.
A feeling...
I don't remember exactly when i wrote this one.  Sometime last year.
Kris Fireheart Feb 2018
We are children of the Rainbow.
Sacred blessings from the Sky .
To make our homes in The valleys,
They hoped that we would become
Wise.

We were chosen by the Moonlight.
To give our hearts to the Sun,
A sacred duty sworn to no one.
We'll be whole when it is done.

We are marching through a darkness,
In silent search of holy light.
Some have strength and some are hopeless...
I pray they all survive the night.

Morning sun on my horizon,
Show me to thy golden throne.
Fill the Sky with stars and diamonds,
And send a ship to take me home...
This is a bit of a weird one,  I'll admit. I wrote this one morning while watching a sunrise with friends on psychedelics.  Can you guys see anything here?
Kris Fireheart Feb 2018
She had everything she
needed,
To make most men fall.
Mindless zombies,
Men like me,  so oblivious
To it all.

Smelled her cooking,
So sick and
so sweet
A poison that's all her own.
****** swept her off
Her feet,
Now Holly
Wants to be alone.

She slithers down my street
At night,
A needle in her hand.
One more shot and ****** Holly
Fades to neverland...

In her eyes,  I see
Her past.
It's all so dark and sad.

Under her bruises,  I
Can see her light.
The only hope she
Has...
about a girl i used to know.  Sad story.
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