"aspirins" poems
I'm shooting people again
And ignoring your texts
Staring into an alternate reality
Trying to forget
I don't even ******* like this game
I took 3 Aspirins
I said I was hurting
A pathetic excuse for trying to numb my thoughts
It didn't work
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 10:33 PM UTC
i walked along a strange and darkened place
the citizens of which abused themselves
a man who chewed his lip and ate his face
then laid inside a coffin's wooden shelves
aside his neighbors' corpses and their pets
and sang his song long after all his bones
were eaten clean, aligned in metric sets
beside the graveyard's glistened stones
the humid air, pneumonia in lungs
leaked out from nostrils as i ran away
slow motion through molasses climbing rungs
my fear of here and sanity left frayed
a woman over-hunched, upon my "hi",
like pill-bug touched had curled into herself
her head in **** and hissed her grumbled sigh
accused that I had killed the mighty elf
a girl who stabbed her migraine with a knife,
whose teeth were aspirins, dripped from bleeding gums
and claimed her husband was her lawful wife
was following his trail of stale breadcrumbs
town criers cried for Argentina, sobbed
"Evita was evicted from our hearts!"
then rushed upon me these un-living mobs
to eat my chest in torn and ****** parts
chihuahua babies swarmed my ankles hard
and bit with rubber teeth and razor gums
i fell and crushed them like a house of cards
they barked like children yelping in their slums
i bled to death from gaping hollow wounds
and flowed my soul into a sewer grate
under the darkened place's shining moon
an angry molten lava stream of hate.
(C)2013, Christos Rigakos
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 11:06 PM UTC
somehow this happens every time
it’s confusing and i don’t know why
each time a friend fights back tears
i join in with them and we both cry
i’m certain some would find it odd
that one might play this curious role
and while it does little for my facade
oh the wonders it does for my soul
teardrops are aspirins for the soul
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 5:27 AM UTC
Five years to the day your heart attack began.
Thinking of you, my own chest hurt;
I imagined pain in my shoulders,
Felt the weariness of years...
Even shed some tears.
April Fools Day, 2012, long on the shelf,
Returns fresh, cuts like a blunt knife,
Tears my innards; causes me to gasp...
The phone call of your imminent demise
Returns to mind,
Drives the blade to the hasp.
Heavy days, these April Fools'
Not the tom-fool days they used to be.
These are days to shake my core,
To stomp and worry my heart sore,
And ask if I'll live through many more.
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 3:28 PM UTC
When I was a young girl, I'd view this world through a lense
of awe and amazement,
and with outstretched arms I welcomed all it could give.
All the hurt so I could learn
contentment,
all the love so I could feel
shades of red and pink,
all the heartbreak so I'd acknowledge
my heart
and all it was capable of.
Nowadays, my arms are just wrapped around my own core so I don't fall away,
and burn marks litter my complexion,
other people's fingerprints pollute my heart
from where it was grabbed too tightly,
and no matter how much money I throw away on plasters
and aspirins,
I can't make the hurt go away.
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 5:08 PM UTC
Though not in pain, I
ache for the times not far past
when I ached for you.
Mar 16, 2011
Mar 16, 2011 at 5:42 PM UTC
So i read a book
Can you guess the name?
V for Vendetta
This title's to blame
For this anarchic writing
In my head, not the wall
I'd just like to know,
How far, as humans we can fall
Not much from reality
I was stolen by fate
Writing of mortality
Making my head ache
Taking drugs as aspirins
Figuring out what living means
Stolen by Fate and triggered by time
It's ****** up like a pink truck and slithering into my sick mind
A painted red soul ran afoul of God forbid individuality
Only to have your mind crushed by reality
No im not going in
I refuse to think of timing and pain
Left home as a better writer to leave the game
Putting guns to my head
Thinking im mislead
Being a fool and too selfish
To realise im sane
Remember remember
The fifth of November
The day the voices began to plot
I see know reason why high
Mental treason should ever be forgot
So now walk with me
Ill make you all see
That circles are redder than triangles
As the sea of memories tangles
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC
I came home from work late that day.
I wanted to get under the covers and slip away.
I took my shower, then had a bite to eat
Took some aspirins, then rubbed my feet.
I climbed into bed then closed my eyes
Then into a hypnotic trance I did fly.
I found myself floating high in the air
All my worries seemed to disappear.
I seen myself back at heavens gate
Asking ST. PETER if I was late.
I saw the guardian angels with their
Wings enclosed in their backs
Waiting for the ones who had passed away
Leading them to their judgment day.
I saw the cherubs frolicking and laughing
With the creatures of the land
While children with the sea animals
playing in the sand.
I saw the bright lights floating in the air
Paved roads all crystal clear.
I saw all the birds in flight
Children screaming with delight.
MAN OH MAN ! WHAT A BEAUTIFUL SIGHT
There were waterfalls, rivers, and streams
What a fantastic scene.
There is never any darkness in the heavens above
For the lights around us , come from our love.
Every heart, every soul radiating its own light
And colors which emit a glow
And of this I did not know.
The path, the road that led to my LORD, my KING
Was paved with gold, with diamonds
with emeralds and rings.
All the riches in the world laying at my feet
But none of that was of interest to me.
I just wanted to see the face of my KING.
I looked at his face and a sense of exhilaration
came over me, and I knew that my soul was free.
I heard myself screaming in my bed.
MY LORD. MY GOD, take me away
For with you is where I want to stay.
Jul 10, 2010
Jul 10, 2010 at 6:12 PM UTC
They gathered
in skinny packs,
in laughing circles
around him.
He stitched their cuts,
bound their wounds,
gave them,
like some OD Santa,
chocolate bars,
antibiotics,
aspirins and
C-Rations.
They laughed louder,
begging for more,
shrieking and calling him
Doc-san #1.
This phony comedy
made him feel better,
feel human,
even though he knew
at night their parents
would do their best
to take his life.
Decades on,
he knows behind those grins
they must have hated him:
his height, his food,
his round eyes
and the doom
he had brought their world
that no trinkets
could ever allay.
Now, there is nothing to do
but remember and be sorry.
mce
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
The wrinkles on her brow are essay lines she has worked years to write. The twitch that turns the corners of her mouth up when she's winning comes from her father, says her mother. Her father's daughter is not a title she wears proudly. Refuses his name, runs from it like the plague. She feels like a refugee in her own home. Her home is war torn and divided. And the only way out is a piece of paper that determines the rest of her life. Her head and her heart have always been two deciding factors but she has always chosen to ignore the heart. In a body ruled by logic, emotions have no place, no room to speak. Wrapped up in old library books and hours of sleepless nights, her mind is weary of the journey ahead. It is tired of working and wants to rest but she won't stop until the paper is in her hand. Ink stains her calloused fingertips and her tongue is drenched in coffee and aspirins. When she looks the mirror she is nothing more than a machine. She sees the gears behind her eyes; cranking and spinning. Her actions are calculated quick figured out by the ticks and wurs in her head.
//Click click click//
She stops. A voice calls her name from beyond her window, small rocks tap the glass. Her breathing slowing, and her cheeks redder than before. The gears shift, begin to rust and fall away as her heart rate increases. When he finds his way up to her bedroom, she'll say
"You are more of a mechanic than you thought."
"I am more human than I ever believed I was."
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 9:41 AM UTC
Awakening at 06:30.
Make the bed in a hurry, wash Your face.
Get ready.
You are at work at 07:30.
It's not a great job, but you don't have another.
Try not to be late.
Insert the card, sign yourself in book of arrivals.
Say “hallo” to colleagues.
When You arrive, drink your coffee.
Struggle like others, you're not the only slave.
Pay attention for a lunch break. Eat something.
Manage out for a couple of aspirins.
**** it up. They own You till 15:30.
Have lunch. Take a bath.
Play up your favorite video game.
Empty up, kick *** of some bad guys.
Reply to a text message from your girlfriend.
Make some plans for a weekend.
Not every weekend is going to be free.
Do not neglect art.
Work on the story.
Write down a few sentences.
Lie down a bit.
Close your eyes. Open them.
Read.
A friend have borrowed You a book.
Take some bite to eat.
At 21:05 play some movie.
Betty Blue, or Barton Fink.
At 23:40 You are already soundly asleep.
You made it…?
Dream.
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 9:59 AM UTC
I cut your wings when you tried to fly
a beautiful act of desecration
dark shades of purple under your eyes
your ruins were my greatest creation
Swallowing aspirins like they were mints
they can take you to a better place
you never looked so beautiful since
i decided to put some tears on your face
I'll be here with you, i won't let you fight
I'll be here with you, i won't let you rise
And when you try to run away
the world will chase you and hold you as a hostage
i said you were not invincible
And when you try to run away
you'll see that dreams are nothing compared to knowledge
But i'll keep you under my wings
like you are part of my skin
i'll keep you under my wings
away from all the sins
Part of our soul is as dark as the night
and you're not used to cope with frustration
but with me you'll walk through the bright side
matching reality with expectation
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 3:27 PM UTC
That bug took her by surprise,
knocked her down in the first round,
it pasted her mouth shut.
She didn't make a sound for days,
the fever took her out,
she was poppin' aspirins.
Normally,
I'd tell her
to bite the bullet,
take a shot of whiskey
& call me in the morning.
But I'd never wish
the devil on her tongue.
So tonight,
I'm dreamin' of
black tea and roses
for that sweet baby.
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC
meanwhile,
he lay still, weeping on his bed
never his option to want to have as his fate
never his option to have a face like that,
never his option to want to be laughed at.
little did they know how much he has suffered
how the bruises were from his father
how he looked up at him as a hero
how his mother used to hug him, now she's no more .
if only they would try and ask him about these things
then life would've been better for him
then he won't be lying in bed weeping
after taking a mouthful of aspirins.
so now he lay still on his bed
not weeping, not breathing, not sad but he was glad
that he made everyone else's life better
by ending his much more sooner.
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 3:02 PM UTC
You taste like salt
And the brokenness of calm
An unease of the heart
Eyes that close and see
The formation of a new world
A new day different from the day you lived
Of a life merged into mundane days
To a start that has no beginning
Away from the wilderness of pain
Hurtling through time and space
A time to where you look at the sky once again
And the beams of the sun are not just a taunting harsh glare in your face
No more fumbling for aspirins in the cabinet
That no longer exists
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 9:22 AM UTC
spare me a share
Of your despair
the waxes and wanes
Of your moans and aspirins
load down to me your Disease
Of past hardship and misuse
the virus and bacteria
Of lonesome hysteria
i will doctor your heart
Of a harsh weather and a loaded cart
till your clouded eyes reflect
Of your classic unyielding effect
Aug 11, 2017
Aug 11, 2017 at 11:38 PM UTC
You grabbed me by the hair and led me out behind the woodshed. In the morning, you took in my purple eye, my lacerated arms, and my winced movement, and asked what had happened to me.
Your storm rolled in last night and caught me in its vortex. In the morning, you took in the downed tree limbs, the upturned picnic table, and the broken glass, and started playing in the standing water.
Your shadow threw a party last night and kept me up until 2 am. In the morning, you took in my slow walk to the shower, my two aspirins, and my dry toast, and asked if I wanted to go for a run.
No, I don’t want to put on my Nikes right now, no, I don’t want to splash in the puddles with you, and yes, I do know what happened to me.
Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 9:09 PM UTC
Every time I open my mouth to
Response to idiotic people my language change
It was so early in the morning,
And believe me, I wasn’t in the mood
For female nonsenses: one drops on her knee
And raise her hand to the ceiling, open her mouth
And let out a bunch of nonsense. The other whispered
“God protect me from these evil people,
I look at my co-worker, and he looked at me
Such juvenile malarkey, so early in the morning:
“He said” with a loud Sigh!!!!
I lost another one, it gone, it no longer moves,
What, whom and where, and why! The baby!
My eyes drop to her knees with such unspoken grief,
I was told that’s where they go for safety:
It had to be some conspiracy: five small angels
In five years, how does she control those tears?
At the moment, I need a glass of water and two aspirins;
She looks so emotionless and calm: the same exact composer
Like my friend had after the death of her son:
I on the other hand saw myself standing on the edge
Looking down into the darkness of a bottomless pit
**Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn.”
― Mahatma Gandhi**
** If you gave someone your heart and they died,
did they take it with them?
Did you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside you that couldn't be filled?”
― Jodi Picoult, **
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 8:43 AM UTC
clear gloss lipstick, sweet and see through
like you are, like you could be
like being in that 99 cent store for the first time all over again
and you can smell sour watermelon and plastic
all about the glitter packaging and all the different flavors could be the paths you decide to take one day
in seafoam t-shirts and tattered sneakers that bite at your heel
until it's the color of pink taffy but when you touch it something
bursts and you decide that skin is your favorite ***** afterall
you pass by the glitter and the fake flowers but waste your cents
instead in aspirins for your mother
but you steal those chips and that drink too and call it benevolence that you don't get caught
and you never will because you get what you give
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 3:25 PM UTC
the start of the conversation, and you're yelling,
"where has your *** been,"
he gives you headaches, you're
addicted to aspirins.
but really what you're asking him,
is whether he was out with the boys relaxing —
he always says, "no, I was just running late"
you tell him straight,
"listen here boy, please stop feeding
me more lies,
_I'm fasting"_
Jan 14, 2025
Jan 14, 2025 at 8:33 AM UTC