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Andy Chunn Sep 16
It is with sadness and long remorse
That we entertain this curse of course
It’s most absurd, and that’s the rub
Introducing the Twenty Seven Club

Each decade we see the number grow
And wonder as the we see them go
Musicians so young, with hope and fears
Meet their demise, after twenty seven years

Robert Johnson was early, a master of blues
A roadhouse musician who paid his dues
Brian Jones helped found the Rolling Stones
And drowned in a pool while swimming alone

Alan Wilson at Woodstock played with Canned Heat
Took too many downers, his life was complete
The great guitarist, Jimi Hendrix gave thrills
But died in his sleep from too many pills

Janis Joplin, with energy and power of force
At age twenty seven died mainlining horse
The Doors Jim Morrison, one of a kind
Extinguished with drugs his poetic mind

Badfinger’s Pete Ham fortified with drink
Took his own life, another twenty seven link
And Kurt Cobain, Nirvana’s front man
Died at twenty seven, from his very own hand

Amy Winehouse, one of the members of late
Perceived a world full of anguish and hate
A talent with beauty, her hair black as coal
But alcohol toxicity soon took its toll

Not mentioned are many members left out
There is no time now to give them a shout
We hope they gather and sing in heaven
The members of the Club - Twenty Seven
So sad!
John Brown died in 2019, it's sad and it's true.
If he hadn't died, today he would've turned 52.
We met at Bean Station Elementary School in 1979.
We quickly became friends, he was a buddy of mine.
But during the last few years of his life, he caused a lot of grief.
He didn't want to pay back what he owed and he became a thief.
When my back was turned, he swiped twenty of my pills.
I wish that it was just a bad dream but sadly, it was real.
I didn't know that John would turn to drugs when I was a kid.
mark my words, if you do drugs, you will die just like he did.
Death was California
the final breath in a hundred ways
falling all over her atoms

a game of replica
back when she was beautiful

an end to amnesia then
tears before bedtime
this is no way to make friends
LD Goodwin Aug 16
**** the clock, leave me be
I have an itch that can not be fully scratched
a hunger never sated
a Jones that never peaks

I am a slave, a concubine,
a conscript to words
they shiver up my spine
and are as a Dragon's flame

I need more to live
like air, and water and love
or the wind's subtle touch
and my muse's flesh against mine

For she has shown them to me
Her rings of passion
that shimmer in the sun
and I swell, hypnotized

**** the clock
rest your hands
I am bewitched
and must needs be met

Leave me be
to our fantasy
She waits for me still
true and wanting

My drug calls
my veins throb
the words, the words
they tell her where I am

I am still here
and the Dragon
must be appeased

Oh tenderness
the sweetness left in my memory
for my wild imagination
to ferment like wine

Drunk now on these visions
impaired with temptation
I taste their milk of love
and suckle to sleep.

**** the clock
though I can not stay here
nestled within her *****
safe from the Dragon's flame

Aye, I must leave
but a spark of permanence remains
a tattoo on my brain
of flesh and sun and rings
*as always, thank you for your inspiration*
She Writes Jul 20
Tonight I feel as empty as the prescription bottles on my nightstand.
- Antidepressants
elle jaxsun Jul 8
My consciousness has been elusive—
Most thoughts are intrusive.
Subconscious stays refusive.
I breathe in and eat up nature,
hoping it’ll be my savior—
Turn all my bad memories into
Distorted visualizations and vapors.
This man has lost all twenty-seven emotions
Like a robot -
Any whiff of emotion even feels too much
Every word this man says is snubbed
Every sleep - his heart beats slower

          From the pain this man suffered

The drugs this man used to be
So afraid of -
Scares him no more
For it had almost wounded him
Right by his own bed

          Which he saw as a liberation

This man is tired
He's ended up becoming
What he used to fight against
It has consumed his soul
To the point of no recovery

         Which is no longer necessary

This man has zero life
He lives for no one
To be precise -
To pay the price -
This man shall die tonight

          At this point, death would hurt less
Note: This poem feature triggering topics (suicide,  drug abuse, self-harm, depression). Kindly restrict yourself from reading if you are sensitive to these topics.
𝙶𝙽𝙶 May 26
𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍?
𝙾𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚢 . ..
𝚃𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗;
𝙼𝚒𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚍.

𝚆𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠
𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢,
𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢.
𝚂𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝, 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚝.
𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚞𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚌?
𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢,
𝙶𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛!
𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝.

𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚝, '𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚝.'
𝚁𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎,
𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.
𝚄𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 . ..
𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜.
𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜
𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎.

𝚈𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜,
𝙳𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗. 𝙰𝚗𝚍
𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎
𝚒𝚝 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢.
𝙵*𝙲𝙺 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠,
𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢.
For those battling drugs and addiction,
Or feeling stuck in life.
© snoW
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