"barbiturate" poems - Hello Poetry

Your lips may be my barbiturate But your words are my poison. I need you to dissolve me Liquidate my mind So I no longer must suffer from the toxins. You cannot hurt a liquid. Quick, put your lips to mine! Crash them together to calm me, sedate me. Your kiss will melt my thoughts Allowing me to pick out the solids. To pick out your crystallized contamination. I need to build up a tolerance An amount of your fatalism that I can take. But I cannot do that right now- Your poison has sent me to a coma. Your poison is coursing through my bloodstream.

0

Aug 27, 2010

Aug 27, 2010 at 9:56 AM UTC

christine

poison

Your lips may be my barbiturate But your words are my poison. I need you to dissolve me Liquidate my mind So I no longer must suffer from the toxins. You cannot hurt a liquid. Quick, put your lips to mine! Crash them together to calm me, sedate me. Your kiss will melt my thoughts Allowing me to pick out the solids. To pick out your crystallized contamination. I need to build up a tolerance An amount of your fatalism that I can take. But I cannot do that right now- Your poison has sent me to a coma. Your poison is coursing through my bloodstream.

16

An endless series Of refreshing pages Lost in the unfathomed depths Of the lucent screen Mindless automaton Caught in a life No expression Only a blank stare Destroyed morale Acute fixation With the ******* Cultural barbiturate The absurdity of it all Would be comical If it wasn't unfortunate.

0

May 14, 2014

May 14, 2014 at 7:19 AM UTC

noose

Cultural Barbiturate

An endless series Of refreshing pages Lost in the unfathomed depths Of the lucent screen Mindless automaton Caught in a life No expression Only a blank stare Destroyed morale Acute fixation With the ******* Cultural barbiturate The absurdity of it all Would be comical If it wasn't unfortunate.

16

When you live with someone who has Alzheimer’s your house feels haunted Mostly at night Only ghosts wander like that So aimlessly It is metal pounding in the garage a knife in my hand and the deep breathed fear of What’s behind door number 2 It is him halfway inside a dryer Trying to get out I sleep with my door open listen carefully like a ghost hunter for the way he haunts the halls for the soft pat of skin on tile collapse fnd the moaning I carry him to the bathroom He is the heaviest ghost ever A different kind of dead weight I light him a cigarette The cherry glows red in the dark The tobacco crackles with each puff He calls me nurse calls me some other name one I’ve never heard before He is just practicing It is hard to be good at being so lost Even now that I am a man he still scares me scares me differently Startles me in the dark comes around corners crawls on the floor towards me I am not always ready for that Before He scared me the way a feral dog scares living food A certain kind of animal inside of him Now he isn’t so wild Taming takes so much away He is dark spots on tan paper crusted blood on nose and head yellow ET cigarette stained fingertips He is me in thirty years He is barbiturate slack jaw Forward lean balance struggle And at night he is so much a ghost I forget about his good days and wonder What’s the point? My house is haunted by a man who has never not gone Bump in the night

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Jun 13, 2012

Jun 13, 2012 at 5:21 AM UTC

jon-tobias

When you Live with Someone who has Alzheimer's your House Feels Haunted

When you live with someone who has Alzheimer’s your house feels haunted Mostly at night Only ghosts wander like that So aimlessly It is metal pounding in the garage a knife in my hand and the deep breathed fear of What’s behind door number 2 It is him halfway inside a dryer Trying to get out I sleep with my door open listen carefully like a ghost hunter for the way he haunts the halls for the soft pat of skin on tile collapse fnd the moaning I carry him to the bathroom He is the heaviest ghost ever A different kind of dead weight I light him a cigarette The cherry glows red in the dark The tobacco crackles with each puff He calls me nurse calls me some other name one I’ve never heard before He is just practicing It is hard to be good at being so lost Even now that I am a man he still scares me scares me differently Startles me in the dark comes around corners crawls on the floor towards me I am not always ready for that Before He scared me the way a feral dog scares living food A certain kind of animal inside of him Now he isn’t so wild Taming takes so much away He is dark spots on tan paper crusted blood on nose and head yellow ET cigarette stained fingertips He is me in thirty years He is barbiturate slack jaw Forward lean balance struggle And at night he is so much a ghost I forget about his good days and wonder What’s the point? My house is haunted by a man who has never not gone Bump in the night

52

Barbiturate sunshine afternoons obscure the niggling work pile and with fat heat, cool anger, opening evenings to virtuous leaf based dinners only slightly ruined by too much beer and ice cream

0

Jun 13, 2021

Jun 13, 2021 at 11:00 AM UTC

drunkenkind

When the weather

Barbiturate sunshine afternoons obscure the niggling work pile and with fat heat, cool anger, opening evenings to virtuous leaf based dinners only slightly ruined by too much beer and ice cream

7

all the songs i lost on lovers no longer mine vomit-inducing barbiturate of old guilt and even older happiness all the songs i lose on lovers all the lovers i lost to verse

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Oct 15, 2015

Oct 15, 2015 at 7:17 PM UTC

Edward-Coles

Ruined Songs

all the songs i lost on lovers no longer mine vomit-inducing barbiturate of old guilt and even older happiness all the songs i lose on lovers all the lovers i lost to verse

7

Who By Fire? And who by fire, who by water, Who in the sunshine, who in the night time, Who by high ordeal, who by common trial, Who in your merry merry month of may, Who by very slow decay, And who shall I say is calling? And who in her lonely slip, who by barbiturate, Who in these realms of love, who by something blunt, And who by avalanche, who by powder, Who for his greed, who for his hunger, And who shall I say is calling? And who by brave assent, who by accident, Who in solitude, who in this mirror, Who by his lady's command, who by his own hand, Who in mortal chains, who in power, And who shall I say is calling?

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Apr 27, 2015

Apr 27, 2015 at 11:45 AM UTC

mike-essig

Leonard Cohen

Who By Fire? And who by fire, who by water, Who in the sunshine, who in the night time, Who by high ordeal, who by common trial, Who in your merry merry month of may, Who by very slow decay, And who shall I say is calling? And who in her lonely slip, who by barbiturate, Who in these realms of love, who by something blunt, And who by avalanche, who by powder, Who for his greed, who for his hunger, And who shall I say is calling? And who by brave assent, who by accident, Who in solitude, who in this mirror, Who by his lady's command, who by his own hand, Who in mortal chains, who in power, And who shall I say is calling?

17

And so the song flows - a messy trace of barbiturate haze, the song flows, tinged with a red-eyed, cathartic sort of sparkle about it in the dark, like the backalley streetlamps by my window at one in the morning. July 1st- I take a step outside, climb to the roof. My eyes swell from the sunlight, glasses steam up from the heat. I have no need for lifting my *** off these sheets anymore but to write. Manhattan rooftop, why did you have to betray me? There was a time when you were the glistening silvertoned backdrop to all of my surreptitious loves as I sat on you, idly humming jazz, peacefully watch the go-and-come of the synagogue pouring into the streets below, pitifully bemused at the concept of dejection. You once gave me a view of opportunity, and ever-alert, always-foreseeing eyes that could have seen all the way to the buildings of Stamford. Now I'm eighteen and terribly myopic. What at all at this point is to exist with implacable certainty? Manhattan rooftop, Tell me that solipsism is the universal truth, then I will not feel as alone.

0

Jul 1, 2018

Jul 1, 2018 at 11:54 PM UTC

yardbyrds

song to sing me off my ***

And so the song flows - a messy trace of barbiturate haze, the song flows, tinged with a red-eyed, cathartic sort of sparkle about it in the dark, like the backalley streetlamps by my window at one in the morning. July 1st- I take a step outside, climb to the roof. My eyes swell from the sunlight, glasses steam up from the heat. I have no need for lifting my *** off these sheets anymore but to write. Manhattan rooftop, why did you have to betray me? There was a time when you were the glistening silvertoned backdrop to all of my surreptitious loves as I sat on you, idly humming jazz, peacefully watch the go-and-come of the synagogue pouring into the streets below, pitifully bemused at the concept of dejection. You once gave me a view of opportunity, and ever-alert, always-foreseeing eyes that could have seen all the way to the buildings of Stamford. Now I'm eighteen and terribly myopic. What at all at this point is to exist with implacable certainty? Manhattan rooftop, Tell me that solipsism is the universal truth, then I will not feel as alone.

31

I’ve always loved him from a distance This time it just feels different It’s the indifference Like, our souls they differ and Im pondering if it’s deliberate Ending feels imminent Love in a moments end Fate is not discriminate It’s saying that we’re dissonant Harmonies on a barbiturate Subtle lies are tasting bitter as, My intuitions shaking with a vigor Cause my hearts feeling ambivalent I can’t make a decision and I don’t want this to end and I can’t pretend or understand How we got here and I’ve always love him from a distance but this just… feels different.

0

Jul 7, 2023

Jul 7, 2023 at 6:18 PM UTC

serendipitywx

Dissonance and bitterness

I’ve always loved him from a distance This time it just feels different It’s the indifference Like, our souls they differ and Im pondering if it’s deliberate Ending feels imminent Love in a moments end Fate is not discriminate It’s saying that we’re dissonant Harmonies on a barbiturate Subtle lies are tasting bitter as, My intuitions shaking with a vigor Cause my hearts feeling ambivalent I can’t make a decision and I don’t want this to end and I can’t pretend or understand How we got here and I’ve always love him from a distance but this just… feels different.

18

sometimes i wonder how you are i dress myself in spy fatigues as i twist my mouth you're laughing, bright. you bleed the aura of apollo and you are ensconced by fiery legs, moscato-stained lips, bejeweled smiles nothing could yank your lyre from you you expose rows of teeth as you coil and you laugh. i see the hurt in your eyes in the seconds before you blink i wonder if you've forgotten to rest them, just as i have i wonder if that hair of yours is lovingly tussled or usurped under infinite gleanings of your own manic hands when liquid barbiturate tears roll from your eyes and make house in your ears when the darkness of your room softly suffocates you and you pretend that it is me i wonder if i've destroyed you and it takes the opulence of an entire faerie festival to turn your racing head to wrench your furrowed brow away from the slight dip in the passenger seat where i once occupied

0

May 9, 2019

May 9, 2019 at 1:01 AM UTC

glacier

fairy static (you can't move on, can you?)

sometimes i wonder how you are i dress myself in spy fatigues as i twist my mouth you're laughing, bright. you bleed the aura of apollo and you are ensconced by fiery legs, moscato-stained lips, bejeweled smiles nothing could yank your lyre from you you expose rows of teeth as you coil and you laugh. i see the hurt in your eyes in the seconds before you blink i wonder if you've forgotten to rest them, just as i have i wonder if that hair of yours is lovingly tussled or usurped under infinite gleanings of your own manic hands when liquid barbiturate tears roll from your eyes and make house in your ears when the darkness of your room softly suffocates you and you pretend that it is me i wonder if i've destroyed you and it takes the opulence of an entire faerie festival to turn your racing head to wrench your furrowed brow away from the slight dip in the passenger seat where i once occupied

18