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Mikey Kania Dec 2019
how disturbingly insidious you are.
you must hate me, don't you?
i mean who are you?!

you're playing tricks on me like crazy. that's for certain. and if anything is for certain in our drug-plagued country, then it is this certainty: that you ― the child-like dictator ― want to rule over me.

let me explain to the reader why i am saying so:

an hour ago, i was taking my son to kindergarten. closely to the chest my little daughter eden; sleeping in a baby carrier.

after i had dropped off my son, ideas for new poems were going through my head.

i eventually decided to write a poem on drugs, written from the perspective of various mind-altering substances.

well. fine.

i got home. my wife took eden out from the baby carrier. i was ready to write. only one cigarette first. smoking on the balcony. don't need my kids to inhale toxical fog. and don't need to know them about my smoking habit.

suddenly, out of the blue (no: out of the dark) ―

out of the dark, you made my heart beating faster. my heart was racing. my heart was banging against my chest.
secretly, you creeped through the area between skin and soul.
seconds later, you made it somehow to reach my mind.

inside my head, you were not saying anything. i don't hear voices and i'm not crazy. (that's the second certainty i am gaining from writing this poem.)

you're not a talker, child-like dictator. you're a quiet addict, depressed and scared to speak with others. because you do fear people, closeness and love. you fear them so much that you want to do drugs in order to feel something else than fear. and to numb how afraid of love you are.

a poor creature you are. but your attempt to ****** me quietly today: it failed.

and you know why? because i have friends. and many of these friends have been struggling with their own dictatorships. feel me.

i won't let you make my decisions.
gonna stay clean.

for me. for my family.

adios amigo. don't pressure me like you do. try to love me as i love you.

try to love.
try to.
try.

mikey
That's it. Ah. And some music for you guys on hellopoetry. Cause today is a good day:

YouTube: "OFFICIAL Somewhere over the Rainbow - Israel "IZ" Kamakawiwoʻole"

God bless you, IZ. And all of you poets and readers on hellopoetry.

I am grateful to Eliot for establishing such a beautiful place for many, many people from all over the world.

One more note: help for every addict: Unprejudiced and for free.

www.aa.org
www.na.org
www.ca.org

What are you waiting for? Asking for help means to be strong.
Shiv Pratap Pal Nov 2019
We need a Cleanser
To clean the Air
To clean the Water
To clean the Atmosphere
To clean the Soil

We need a Cleanser
To clean the Minds
To clean the Thoughts
To clean the Hearts
To clean the Souls

We also need a Blender
To Blend all these properly
And transform the world
Into a better place to live in
With Peace, Harmony and Luxury
Do  you also feel the need of these??  Please Let me know.
Jon Thenes Aug 2019
exfoliate sin

resolve pores of pollution

; secretion exhaust
I wandered for a moment, surrounded by the white tunnel
In which I smelt the metallic tang from stainless steel
Travelling in the open air.

Glancing, I saw the disarray: nurses dashing in assistance, paramedics charging through the gaping doors with emergency cases
And doctors immersed in the plight to save lives.

I slid a door open,
Discovering an image so brief and profound,
A man, varnished with red, ached as it
Dripped through his hair -
Hesitantly, he settled sideways,
You could see his hurts were spinal.

He had fallen from an engine,
Dragged along the grating metals,
And as he lay, half sentient -
To his bed came a woman,
Who stood and sighed,
Her lips were writhen
As the sun had risen.

How desolate it was,
As she lied near the thundering waterfall of his heart,
Only to realise,
They were on the eve of their marriage.
Poetic T Feb 2019
She liked the taste
of cheese...

But yours tasted off,
                                    as she gagged..
mythie Apr 2018
An angel cloaked in black.
A crystalised sinner.

But I watch over a pure being.
Someone who can't be dirtied.
Not by filth or other humans.
A completely clean entity.

I wish for revenge against God.
The cruel God who abandoned me.
Who reinforced rules.
That only help him in the end.

So I combine my filthy soul.
With a clean vessel.
Me and the purity.
We become one.

A sinner cloaked in black.
A venomous angel.
about an oc of mine.
M L Soo Nov 2016
To stand alone on a distant shore
My being stricken with love and grief
The soul, it sings, of lost amore
and beckons back a loving thief

Like petals- surfing, on cold night air
Moonlight- drizzles through the dark,
The moon- it offers a wicked stare
and echoes the acid that fills the heart
George Krokos Aug 2016
We all have to daily eat and drink and also **** and ****
there isn't anything else more basic or common than this,
except a vital need to rest and get some adequate sleep
as the rigours of life take their toll on the body we keep.

Let's not forget the all-important function of breathing to stay alive
which depends so much on various conditions for anyone to thrive
and is the main ingredient for every creature's life on this world;
regardless of anything else it determines how well they're swirled.

We also have a need to keep our bodies and clothes clean
as our daily activities produce sweat and odour that is seen
and can be smelt from a distance which isn't very pleasant
making us wonder if a person noticed with is just a peasant.

There is also an inherent urge to love and be loved in return
which is what makes life worth living for those who discern,
and the very curious thought as to why we've been born at all
or the reason for our existence on this planet Earth we so call.
-----------------------------------------------
Written in 2016.
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