"caffine" poems
If you'd care to help
I'm saving up cans
With the brilliant idea
To build an aluminum can friend
One that shines bright
That never will rust
In whom I share secrets
One I can trust
He'll have Coca-Cola arms
And Dr. Pepper legs
Non-caffine Sprite
I'll use for his head
Don't want my aluminum can friend
To have jitters all day
Restless at night
Staying up late
I'll give him Pepsi hands
That are willing to please
So when I do chores
He can help me
For my friend on the go
I'll give Mountain Dew feet
A couple Red Bull
If I decide to do wings
And an idea that is good
Would be a Fanta heart
For a colorful beat
With all the flavors there are
So if you'd like to help
I'm saving up cans
With the brilliant idea
To build an aluminum can friend
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 3:46 PM UTC
Those hot peppers you feed me
tsssss all the way down
smoke is in the intestines
and esophagus
have you punched me?
i am sore.
and caffine
i am woozy from you
a wooden ship on rough seas
rocky
swallowed enough air for zeppelins
under your shirt hides a fleshy balloon
have I wronged you?
i am sensetive
and vengeful
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 5:59 PM UTC
wanted; - Liverpudlian rock stars
to sing fer me - the queen,
I'll pay yers all in corgies -
n transfuse ya wiv - caffine,
gorra bloke called ringo -
fer the bingo - inbetween,
support act - chewbacca -
n maca - in submarine.
Alan nettleton
May 7, 2010
May 7, 2010 at 10:43 PM UTC
Caffine, sugar and doughnuts you ****** Fresh cream and profiteroles and chocolate sauce over it all. All we want all the time, beer shots and wine. More and more of all the stuff thay slowly kills all of us. Best intentions, yeah my **** Mines a pint and kiss my ****
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 6:27 PM UTC
The ******* fan,
Blue shirts
Strangers, friends,
Caffine caused adrenaline
Blood pulsing
Sparks of thought,
Twitching
I asked for one
They gave me two,
Two!
Overcharged
Twitching
Tapping
"Chris..!"
Not thinking
just going
going, going
tapping, twitching
that ******* fan
Oct 29, 2010
Oct 29, 2010 at 1:53 PM UTC
Caffeine, nicotine, and you.
Three things that make me happy.
Three things that give me chills.
Three things that I hate.
Three things that I want to destroy.
Three things that won’t stop hurting me.
Three things that I can’t live without.
Three things that I laugh with.
Three things that keep me sane.
Three things that push me to close to the edge.
Three things that pull me close where it’s warm.
Three things that make everything else seem alright.
Three things that wreak havoc to my psyche.
Three things that always listen.
Three things that always leave.
Three things that define me.
Caffeine, nicotine, and you.
But I must quit you.
Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 3:26 PM UTC
wanted;
Liverpudlian rock stars
to sing fer me - the Queen,
I'll pay yers all in corgis
and transfuse ya wiv - caffine,
I've gorra a bloke called Ringo
fer the bingo - inbetween,
support act - Chewbacca -
and Macca - in yella submarine.
Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 12:50 PM UTC
Turn the music up till my ears ring,
till I cant hear myself sing,
scream,
at the top of my lungs,
can't deal anymore I'm done.
One,
more time,
you say give it one more try,
well sorry not tonight,
cause I'm already gone,
been at this **** for way too long.
So baby rev up the engine,
step on the gas,
turn the radio up
till it shakes the ******* glass.
In the rearview,
flashing blue lights,
knock me off this high,
******* killed my vibe.
Won't come back down,
no I won't slow down,
tires squealing peal out,
heart pounding so loud.
Adrenaline,
again again,
can't get enough,
I lied I really give a ****
Come back to me,
dear sweet ecstasy,
I crave you like a drug,
coursing through me in my blood.
Let's throw our hands up,
in playful surrender,
give in to the 5-0,
give up everything we know.
Let them think we've changed our minds,
then jump in the car and leave it all behind,
you're all I need and I'm all you've got,
so what do you say; give it one more shot?
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 8:44 PM UTC
Sneakered feets skid the cheap wax floor
The screaming maddening muddled expectation of children echo unhappiness
Its a hot Saturday in retail hell
Where have a nice day meets a condecending flip off
And fake smiles still taste like caffine syrup
Over head lights flicker and bring the three o'clock head ache
Another day, five more hours
Until leaving
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 4:33 PM UTC
I see you, yes I do
Gargling your coffee beans in your local coffee shop
That arrive on boats, imported non stop
The weathered hands that snatched those beans off that vine
All for you to enjoy your relaxing java time
Don't act like you didn't know, you did know
You knew it before you brewed it
I hope your comfortable in your chair
Made in China
Made in China
I hope your enjoying your computer built with uranium from over there
Imported from Africa
Imported from Africa
America, the strong
The proud
The independent, dependent on foreign imports
Now is your time to retort
But you're too busy ******* down iced coffee in mall food courts
You're drinking all that caffine but you need to
WAKE UP
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 1:36 PM UTC
for the past few weeks,
my daily caloric in-take has consisted of nothing but caffine,
nicotine,
and a good bit of ****
if that counts.
i've been bogged down by a few pounds of literary build-up,
clinging to my cell walls.
characters and commas,
just pleading to be plucked from their scatter-brained current state of nothingness,
and be re-arragned-
brought to life by a breath of structure
and fore-head kiss of charm.
writer's block.
an itchy wool blanket of complacent composition blues
draped over my freckled shoulders,
in hopes of sheilding me from a down-pour of inspiration.
i never asked to be pretected from my own thoughts,
so stop,
fickle whispers of failure.
i'm on the rise.
i close my eyes and plunder my brain for the misplaced directions
to the exit of the ball-point duldrum,
i know they're around here somewhere.
i've got thirty three trash bags of pointless memories,
and not one of them can help me.
so i hoist the sails
and viciously exhale,
sending myself out to sea
where i'll be free to raise the nets dragging on the floor,
and sort through the mooshed-up words
to turn them into something more.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 4:52 PM UTC
Coffee coffee a delacasy with a
tasty dehydrating quality
Farmers worked the feilds
where there once was a beautiful yield
Why the hell is my tongue all pasty
whatever cause that was Fuckn tasty
Chuck the paper cup, disrupt they all add up
bite your plastic shrunken lid lip
take it, grind it, its best brewed with a slow drip
this thing we speak of, it desires
the minds insatiable crazy love fires
Black or cream and with a little sugar
to some its a dream
ya sure theres water or h2o in there
but the caffine doesnt discriminate or even care
Substance abuse
people and nature swinging from a noose
Dec 16, 2011
Dec 16, 2011 at 8:09 PM UTC
The tears of heaven.
That pass my window.
Without a care.
The just fall to the ground.
From great heights
Of invinity.
As the Caffine spreads through my blood.
And the music from the radio,
Continues to rattle on.
About lost love.
And the faith of humanity.
And I hum myself a sad tune.
And look past the window glass.
To the stop signs and streetlights.
That make the ***** city polished looking
And as a single tear traces my hallow cheeks.
That havn't smiled in years.
I wonder.
What this place must look like from heaven.
Feb 18, 2011
Feb 18, 2011 at 8:05 AM UTC
One thing happens to you and it feels like the end of the world.
But it's not.
Because a distraction provides itself...
Someone comes around to provide comfort.
They are your other half,
Your best friend, perhaps...
They'll always be there for you,
Listen to your problems.
(A caffine-induced headache, maybe??)
No matter what may happen,
Another door in your life will open.
It is God's saving grace, his guiding hand.
Follow...
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 10:10 PM UTC
Tis a poem
that comes from
a slow brain
today
Van Winkle
murmurings,
muttering,
postulating
creativity
as it
settles
further
further
down
into the
crevices
of wrinkled
wretched
weariness
slothlike
the words
come
like
treacle
on the
morn of the
winter solstice
synapses fire
with all the bang
of sodden gunpowder
and before you all
lays the detritus
of a mind
sans sleep
sans caffine
sans the wisdom
to read... not write
Tis a poem
orat least
the shadow of a thought
that wished, that wanted
one day, one fine day
to grow up
to become a poem....
but became this instead
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 6:41 AM UTC
I'd stay up all night
Waiting for you to wake.
Time difference didn't matter
When I had you as my caffine.
Talking about a false future
And broken promises.
Did you know how the book was going to end?
I think we both did.
I've given you enough lives to know how the story goes.
Give up after the first chapter
Then throw me in the trash.
Just a distraction untill you find a worthy novel.
As the reader
Your perception on things is up to you.
Maybe you're right.
Maybe I'm not right for your twisted mind
And if so, i ask you to never pick me up again.
Your eyes are no longer radiant over my pages
As they were fueled by my sadness.
I have run out of lives for you.
So I have no more sadness.
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 9:00 PM UTC
No more gasoline
for my brain packed like sadine
a cup of caffine
~ Haiku ~
Sep 29, 2019
Sep 29, 2019 at 8:40 AM UTC
i regret meeting you
and listening to what you had to say
i regret not listening to myself
because i decided
to follow the screams in my head
i regret not talking to a friend
when she needed someone the most
i regret having too much caffine
or else i may have had
decent sleep for once in my life
i will regret typing this poem
as i do with anything else i write
i will regret staying up late
to type on these keys
and produce words which will have
no meaning to me
because I did not think much
before i typed
May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 1:47 AM UTC