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"downers" poems
Empty hands and love wasted Wasted, the state of being wasted Drunk on love Or high on life Perhaps intoxicated with the idea Breathing in the fumes of both Hookah and happiness Crushed up pills meant to calm anxiety Only calm their mind Not the body, not the syncopated motions Not the actions in which they're partaking Crushed up pills, crushed up souls, Uppers and downers so that maybe While their mind is numb, Their body sure isn't, Maybe for a moment they don't have to think About what love actually is.
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Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 3:05 PM UTC
Wasted Love
I was invited over with my best friend Ken To play some pool , do downers , and drink some gin Susan and Lea were live-in Lesbians All of us real good friends from a long time ago , you know , from a way back when We had a blast playing pool I was hot hot that night I was wiping up the table Made every shot in sight By one a.m. my head began to spin I lay down upon the couch Then said goodbye to Ken Then all turned quite except for the scampering of mice Then something else I felt as Lea stark naked was sliding in She started stripping off my clothes Soon all was skin to skin She licked and ****** scratched and pinned She ravaged me like a beast I could not satisfy her whims No not in the least of them She made me toast Jellied up my behind Buttered up my navel I thought I had died or surely lost my mind After hours of lustful bliss We fell asleep until when she woke me up and said "My car , can you fix it again ?"
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Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 12:24 PM UTC
I Made Love To A Lesbian (Adult Only)
If you're a celebrity For medications come to me I have them all, come see, come see I'm the devil in disguise I sign prescriptions by the score If you run out, I'll give you more I'll bring your pills right to your door I'm the devil in disguise Dr. Robert, Feelgood too Names I'm sure are known to you If you're in need call you know who I'm the devil in disguise Uppers, Downers, oxy's....well Imagine what is down in hell I'll keep your secret, I won't tell I'm the devil in disguise Elvis called, and MJ too They both liked pills in shades of blue No one else does what I do I'm the devil in disguise It's up to you, which choice you make I fulfill, and you....you take I'm here all night, don't need a break I'm the devil in disguise If you're in need, well...I'll be there You pay for service, and I care I've got lots, and lots to share I'm the devil in disguise If you're mute, and lost your voice You know I'm your only choice I'll be right round in my Rolls Royce I'm the devil in disguise You'll end up dead, but I'll keep kicking With pills and needles, stars keep sticking I'm the doctor all the stars are picking I'm the devil in disguise I am the devil, that is true I am around, that's not new I'm known to them, but not to you I'm their doctor...till they die.
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Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 11:24 PM UTC
The Devil in Disguise
Going out, getting good. All gothed-out, glamorous. Drop-dead. Gore-geoous. It's a curse. Only the truly beautiful at <3, have it. Talent. Get it. Dig it. Dug it. GOOD :) I am just every drop of blood the razor blades made me. Drag downers dragging themselves along the skin surface of my blood-flow free way. Wrists. While, I am screaming. "I hate you" . At the top of my black-tar ****** coated-codine lungs. Yogurrrrr? Help a ***** out. & go check on that crack pipe. Uhhh. I mean check the pipe for crack. Cuz dem smokey rocks make a bruthah go cray-cray. Welcome to the Goth Opera. I'm just playing pretend, anti-christ tonight.
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Jun 7, 2012
Jun 7, 2012 at 12:47 AM UTC
A Rockin' Goth Opera
It's the music, the alcohol it's my situation won't improve it's vices it's smoking bidis it's coughing from addiction it's having talent but no outlet emotion without expression it's wondering if it's depression it's insecurity it's am I happy it's advice when only I am me it's drinkin brew things I thought i knew downing downers to cheer me up it's a powdered nose secrets no one knows gambling with tomorrow it's waiting tables it's sore shoulders it's scowling behind a smile it's lifting weights it's bad first dates limp from drinking from the bottle it's my ex lady it's lusting it's wanting what's in the past it's a broken car it's public transit it's fearing that I am them it's lovers cheat talk is cheap promises wash off my bed sheets it's my breaking point this broken joint trying to calm my loathing it's the ecstasy that only fixes me for one pill at a time it's the president pay the rent work and school until I'm spent never sleep no cash to eat feed my heart with dreams I never see holding on and letting go walking fast and running slow out of place out of patience job ******* placement alcohol and strippers **** dignity and throwing fits trying not to slit my wrist when everything comes down to this moment and I miss it's insanity everything all around me it's me
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Apr 26, 2012
Apr 26, 2012 at 3:20 PM UTC
ATMOSPHERE
i'm an empty optimistic in a world where lost souls remain we're all threaded together by birth, given the consequences but what are we without an upper and a even worse downer those who survive the downers, sometimes never get back up did you feel the connection, like our roots locked together like we were handcuffed in familiarity, but you are as recognizable as my own heartbeat and it seems so natural, when you sing without the blissful harmony we used to sing together in unison, careless and carefree, and my heart is eroding day by day, would you still be able to swim if i taught you when i could and would you still be able to speak if i paid attention to you as i should but you inflict your pain back at others, is that how our world survived with the wildlife and it's fires, burning our only chance at safety, but i tried to extinguish the devastation and i'm a shapeless survivor with reasons to seek, **** and destroy in a way, does this make me the hero of the story, stripping the evil down? if you forgave me, i would be able to forget because i'm still carrying your world on my shoulders, and even though hearing your name makes me sick to my stomach, my body will refuse to give in to the peer pressure if i winded the hands of a clock, could i possibly strip your walls down still or could i stop caring and get revenge, which could possibly be a thrill -kra
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Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
healing herds
What Dr. Lector devours with fava beans, inside rots. Too much Chianti? Not likely. Likely, not enough but there has been much else. Still, no amounts warranting any shy example of overload. Mild splurges, done in high style equal nothing in comparison to toxic baths taken in industrial grindstone mortors. And the payback? Walking papers and abdominal lump. Poke it and choke on acid reflux. Pop more pills to keep it down. Downers prescribed on more downers. Feeling down? Have another downer. What else can we do? Your MRI's and ultrasound, unsound, do not come with flag from foreign invader, claiming this new territory for king. So, blame it on the offal. Blame it all on the offal for not having guts and glory to fight off its own infection. And eat your chicken livers.
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Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 1:21 PM UTC
Blame The Offal
I am one of three – Shadow, skin, and light. A triplet split from the same egg and ***** ** Make it 3 and you’ll have me Explicit. It’s so **** Being cleaved into thirds.   A ********* with myself – The shadow is morose. A needy, demanding ***** Begging to be cut up. I want to, So I can see the blood wring around my – Her Wrists like shackles pinning her To my bed. I know it’ll shut her up But I can’t bring myself to do it. I’m not that *****   The skin is boring. A virginal flower Dreaming of understanding.   She’s too wholesome, Always waiting for the right Version of herself to come along. Saving myself – Herself For the right time. My tastes aren’t quite so Vanilla. The light is adventurous. A psychotic, brilliant **** ******* herself into the ground. Necrophilia just got a whole lot hotter, Bodies piling up thanks to her STDs – Stupid, thoughtless decisions. Protection?  Ha! That’s for normal people. There’s no need for me – Her To slow down; We like it fast. The skin doesn’t participate. The ***** virtuous ****** Fidgets as the others 69 – A disgusting yin yang Of low and high. The shadow drinking downers Until she can’t remember All the bruises covering her heart, Too distracted by the bile Smeared across her lips.   The light popping enough uppers To strip herself of her Consciousness, Naked and raw She often wakes bitter Of her restored senses.   This ********* takes place In a womb, An amniotic ocean Swaying toward the shores Of existence. Two will drown – Vanishing triplet syndrome. Only one may be pulled from Mental waters and placed on the sands of reality. The labor takes 33 hours - Finally I emerge.   Who survived? There is no way to tell.
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Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 1:09 AM UTC
Devil's Threeway
I am one of three – Shadow, skin, and light. A triplet split from the same egg and ***** ** Make it 3 and you’ll have me Explicit. It’s so **** Being cleaved into thirds.   A ********* with myself – The shadow is morose. A needy, demanding ***** Begging to be cut up. I want to, So I can see the blood wring around my – Her Wrists like shackles pinning her To my bed. I know it’ll shut her up But I can’t bring myself to do it. I’m not that *****   The skin is boring. A virginal flower Dreaming of understanding.   She’s too wholesome, Always waiting for the right Version of herself to come along. Saving myself – Herself For the right time. My tastes aren’t quite so Vanilla. The light is adventurous. A psychotic, brilliant **** ******* herself into the ground. Necrophilia just got a whole lot hotter, Bodies piling up thanks to her STDs – Stupid, thoughtless decisions. Protection?  Ha! That’s for normal people. There’s no need for me – Her To slow down; We like it fast. The skin doesn’t participate. The ***** virtuous ****** Fidgets as the others 69 – A disgusting yin yang Of low and high. The shadow drinking downers Until she can’t remember All the bruises covering her heart, Too distracted by the bile Smeared across her lips.   The light popping enough uppers To strip herself of her Consciousness, Naked and raw She often wakes bitter Of her restored senses.   This ********* takes place In a womb, An amniotic ocean Swaying toward the shores Of existence. Two will drown – Vanishing triplet syndrome. Only one may be pulled from Mental waters and placed on the sands of reality. The labor takes 33 hours - Finally I emerge.   Who survived? There is no way to tell.
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72
When you're normally an idiot magnet, Bur for some malfunctional blessing you're attracting something that is positive ditch the downers and go get high. Turkey tastes better cold, I like to quit cold turkey. I just worked a nine hour shift too. The human mind is such a powerful tool. I don't understand why people are so stupid. We all have minds, right?
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Mar 25, 2012
Mar 25, 2012 at 4:35 AM UTC
Ditching Downers To Go Get High.
- - - there are the days when i savor my isolation, i savor my freedom. in this state is when Urania came forth to lift my chin, to lift my gaze from finite walking-path unto Eternity of existence. She placated me, brought me to surrender of my Self. and i lay staring at the ceiling, longing for a little rest knowing i did this to myself, and i don’t complain to you. - - - there came a conclusion of self-destruction as the only thing to depend on. and i destroy myself through entertainment while fighting tooth and nail to survive. - - - Sunday 5.30ante. began Friday 9.30post, Saturday 9.30post is twenty-four. i am four short of thirty-six. and my turbulent stomach awaits the imbibement of a hard benzo – (shorten’d word to be hip. [also the reason i used an infinitive]) by this point i am deranged and trace mildly. not just a fancied flight alongside a reality my mind deceives me of. not just an insaned delirium i perpetrate. maintain. sustain. disdain. space to insure emphasis, - - - have i been outward too long. i sweat naked in the snow thanking, no Deity, but instead handful of multi-color’d, shaped, strength downers. and i smell’d on death perfume of flowers as its figure look’d me over – naked freezing wretch – and extend’d claw with rotting flesh no where in pace with this vessel’s. i began to blue, and the shadow of my end falter’d in my mind. lungs, in impulse, heaved air within themselves. stretching frozen sternum. - - - let’s take some math, how about: zn+1 = zn2 + c i am patient, please explain in detail.
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Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 5:44 AM UTC
lost.
- - - there are the days when i savor my isolation, i savor my freedom. in this state is when Urania came forth to lift my chin, to lift my gaze from finite walking-path unto Eternity of existence. She placated me, brought me to surrender of my Self. and i lay staring at the ceiling, longing for a little rest knowing i did this to myself, and i don’t complain to you. - - - there came a conclusion of self-destruction as the only thing to depend on. and i destroy myself through entertainment while fighting tooth and nail to survive. - - - Sunday 5.30ante. began Friday 9.30post, Saturday 9.30post is twenty-four. i am four short of thirty-six. and my turbulent stomach awaits the imbibement of a hard benzo – (shorten’d word to be hip. [also the reason i used an infinitive]) by this point i am deranged and trace mildly. not just a fancied flight alongside a reality my mind deceives me of. not just an insaned delirium i perpetrate. maintain. sustain. disdain. space to insure emphasis, - - - have i been outward too long. i sweat naked in the snow thanking, no Deity, but instead handful of multi-color’d, shaped, strength downers. and i smell’d on death perfume of flowers as its figure look’d me over – naked freezing wretch – and extend’d claw with rotting flesh no where in pace with this vessel’s. i began to blue, and the shadow of my end falter’d in my mind. lungs, in impulse, heaved air within themselves. stretching frozen sternum. - - - let’s take some math, how about: zn+1 = zn2 + c i am patient, please explain in detail.
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61
You told me so young that pills make you better, I'm thirty nine and still not better From seizure medicines, to Zoloft, to sleeping pills, and downers my head is unwinding I became an introvert, paranoid. That girl is smiling, want to go home where it is quiet. Sent to a program to cope with interpersonal relationships The only thing is the medicines make me gain weight Sleep is the only thing that I do right Check ups are always fun, are you taking your medicines? The right answer is always yes. How are your moods? I have none Yes I'm taken my pills add this and increase this. At home always nagged for forgetting my pills so I do as I'm told. Have some Lithium it likes to eat the liver, have some Zoloft, Effexor and more. Another day, Did you take your pills? Yes I did in fact I swallowed them all I filled my cup, made a hysteria soup. Did you take your pills?
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Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 3:15 AM UTC
Hysteria soup
Life gives my stomach knots Dread conquers my thoughts I am weak, for I can take it no longer As life goes on, it gets wronger and wronger I look to the pills; I look to the bottle They are kind and act as my throttle Uppers and downers My friendly encounters People: my enemies Hates and jealousies They are all better than I could ever be They have more than I could ever see So what will I take today? What will make these thoughts go away? But they'll be back, just like a pest What I need is eternal rest
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Dec 17, 2010
Dec 17, 2010 at 10:25 PM UTC
Dread
She snorts her Ritalin she snorts her xanex she snorts her ******* before she has *** She loves her codeine and her amphetamines her world spins so fast she needs some Dramamine she buys and sells pills, writes prescriptions she skips most meals to feed her addictions light up a cigarette gulp down a percocet mix uppers and downers hoping that they offset she takes bottle after bottle of pills and alcohol she just tips it back and swallows it all a walking pharmacy a waiting tragedy a princess of pills her Medicated Majesty
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Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 7:12 AM UTC
Her Medicated Majesty
You told me so young that pills make you better, I'm thirty nine and still not better From seizure medicines, to Zoloft, to sleeping pills, and downers my head is unwinding I became an introvert, paranoid. That girl is smiling, want to go home where it is quiet. Sent to a program to cope with interpersonal relationships The only thing is the medicines make me gain weight Sleep is the only thing that I do right Check ups are always fun, are you taking your medicines? The right answer is always yes. How are your moods? I have none Yes I'm taken my pills add this and increase this. At home always nagged for forgetting my pills so I do as I'm told. Have some Lithium it likes to eat the liver, have some Zoloft, Effexor and more. Another day, Did you take your pills? Yes I did in fact I swallowed them all I filled my cup, made a hysteria soup. Did you take your pills?
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Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 3:15 AM UTC
Hysteria soup
Wake-up with the pill bottle next to me Other side is the girl that had *** with me I know she doesn't love me I just flaunt some of the money Then they wanna come see Get out of bed when they start to kick in So amazed how I got all these prescriptions Pill caddy because today I'm on a mission Driver is out front Time to put on the front Get to the office, bursts of motivation See my partner do it-with no medication But things are fine, no reason to whine I got it all But when I define all, it's where I fall Money, drugs, mansion And no hugs from a honey or some laughing Who will I share it with? My computer I just stare at it Give my tasks to my secretary Because, that's why I pay you, Sheree I'm just the founder With a bold face to motivate No more brown nosing See, now they brown nose me But as the clock hits four PM Look at all our profits, yeah I see them Time for my downers so I can mellow out All the guilt, time to throw it out Let's go out, Sheree She says yes, not to me...but to the money Yeah I admit it kinda hurts... But its all in, A Day's Work
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Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 7:21 AM UTC
All in a day's work
Shooting up the uppers and downers To relieve your life away Taking care of you was your number one priority Having your children start a new life In suburban Ville Only to grow into the fakes and cowards that you present yourself The water gradually never Being too shallow for you The sparks and whirlpools Surrounding this family Engaging us in a ball of hate towards each other Never seems to fail
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Jul 8, 2010
Jul 8, 2010 at 1:13 PM UTC
Never Apologizing
This for the little brothers And the widowed mothers To the Sunday morning snoozers And the gamenight losers To the wimps in the schoolyard And even the bullies just down the boulevard Shake the dust. This is for the shopfront greeters, The youth group worship leaders, For the early morning joggers and the late night bike riders, And for the boy who's crush loves someone else For milk crate ball players, And for the wallflower haters Plant the forests. To the sleepers and the dreamers, And to the bed-wetters, As well as the lonely love letters To the broken hearts who write poems And the broken souls that stole them To men who work for a family they never see And girls who want a lover but they'll never be Split the seas. For the heavens you have lived and the hells you felt you have gone through, For the demons who have overcame and the ones yet to be overcome For the ones who have stuck with the Lord all the same And the ones who don't yet know His name For the fair-weather friends the friends 'til the end The overnighters and the stories told at campfires Move the mountains. This is to the poet, and lovers who don't yet know it To the writers but it's just a hobby, The Debbie Downers who can't stop me This is for the authors whose books is left unread on dusty shelves And the girls who hate the look of themselves To the ones, that when it rains, they choose to sing And the winter you must endure to reach the spring Shake the dust. This is to all of you, and I will say it again: shake the dust. Because from the dust you were made, and to the dust you will return. So let this poem not be mere words that barely flow, may this poet not just be another kid, too quixotic to change the world. But might my poetry be the notes which your words are carried by. Let them swing and sway, a piece to our battlecry, some sylable in your life story. Because from the dust you will rise, so carry the dirt with you and take the world by storm, for the ground you scrape from your palms is the story you form.
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Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 12:58 PM UTC
Dustsceawung.
This for the little brothers And the widowed mothers To the Sunday morning snoozers And the gamenight losers To the wimps in the schoolyard And even the bullies just down the boulevard Shake the dust. This is for the shopfront greeters, The youth group worship leaders, For the early morning joggers and the late night bike riders, And for the boy who's crush loves someone else For milk crate ball players, And for the wallflower haters Plant the forests. To the sleepers and the dreamers, And to the bed-wetters, As well as the lonely love letters To the broken hearts who write poems And the broken souls that stole them To men who work for a family they never see And girls who want a lover but they'll never be Split the seas. For the heavens you have lived and the hells you felt you have gone through, For the demons who have overcame and the ones yet to be overcome For the ones who have stuck with the Lord all the same And the ones who don't yet know His name For the fair-weather friends the friends 'til the end The overnighters and the stories told at campfires Move the mountains. This is to the poet, and lovers who don't yet know it To the writers but it's just a hobby, The Debbie Downers who can't stop me This is for the authors whose books is left unread on dusty shelves And the girls who hate the look of themselves To the ones, that when it rains, they choose to sing And the winter you must endure to reach the spring Shake the dust. This is to all of you, and I will say it again: shake the dust. Because from the dust you were made, and to the dust you will return. So let this poem not be mere words that barely flow, may this poet not just be another kid, too quixotic to change the world. But might my poetry be the notes which your words are carried by. Let them swing and sway, a piece to our battlecry, some sylable in your life story. Because from the dust you will rise, so carry the dirt with you and take the world by storm, for the ground you scrape from your palms is the story you form.
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54
He has the heart of a tattered harlequin Patched and re-patched with rags of broken times that were once good. The cloth of its chambers is worn and threadbare Held by the shreds of borrowed nights and comical stolen mornings. He has the heart of a battered harlequin And regret has turned his blood to the colour of rust Unanswered questions congeal and clog his pulse When he is lonely and aching, time - not isolation- is his worst enemy He has the heart of a knackered harlequin Kept moist by whiskey and gin, and uppers and downers that he pops like candy He has a patchwork sack of a heart It can never be filled and often feels empty.
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Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 8:54 PM UTC
Heart of a Harlequin
Mike Arms--1 day ago write a few lines, I'll match em. Can you do it ? david badgerow--14 hours ago banjo strings frayed by broken fingernails fistful of downers to sleep this night away i open my eyelids out of dream, singing ladies' eyes downcast thru fear & tobacco smoke wake up, roll joint, get this day started. Mike Arms--10 hours ago being pure ether ain't no ****** picnic this september looks right at ***** smearing its pale arms reaching clearly into murderers lungs groping mute celibate if you beheld her whole form means silence david badgerow--10 hours ago lying back on the car seat, her eyelids heavy she breathes diamonds and pure electricity in an endless velvet desert, radio warbles over a hill "oh, if i were young again, legs spread leaning against a table." hard labor, aluminum tubes between continental divide echo chamber vibrations plunging their tiny lamps in and out of her eyeball Mike Arms--8 hours ago Hard Luck Man crossing floods inanimate intelligence is assassinated they cross themselves a world deaf *** revolution worst gamble you remain
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Jan 23, 2012
Jan 23, 2012 at 11:40 PM UTC
hard luck man (with mike arms)
When my mind is at rest I think of peace and blissful things I see the unfettered and innocent smile of a new babe in arms Or the Omnipotence gilded arms outstretch showering blessings The shores of a pristine beach with blue waves marking times Silver sunset sprinkling magic across quiet waters with no stressing Or me sat at my fathers feet as he reads engrossed in his charmes My mind rests easy in places of warmth and enriching lovings My mind has no space to linger in the murkiness of failings I do not plunge dark dept to court the uninspiring s in terms To share company with wretches with wasted mental ecthings Eyes that see dew in darkness and acrimony in fruitless farms Voices made for howling dirges and apostles of negative cravings Demented downers who drink from the fountains of fallen vamps Satiated miserably they seek to retch their stench on followings My mind finds the luminous stars and praise their spark-lings It atunes to the silent melodies of sages who now sleep uncramp It relishes the delights of the million trillion wonders tinklings Its marvels the joys of the thousand mothers holding new champs Can share the lifting dreams of hopes for happy new beginnings Living is never about waste for the Creator avails no dumps For a mind that lives and grows in the Light is forever inspired and inspiring Copyright LaurencA.1stAugust2018.All rights reserved
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Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 7:54 PM UTC
How I See .....
I wake up and feel something is askew. Then I remember what I heard last night on the news. Then I push it aside and turn on the TV. I’m sure someone can deal with it better than me! Our politics are failing. Society’s flailing. Getting’ crushed under the weight of our own pompous detailing. But I don’t mind, there’s nothing I can do. I’ll just grab a bite, get another tattoo. Maybe by the time I’m done, it’ll have worked itself out. If it hasn’t I’ll just shut my eyes and think of something else! I guess I could try to make a difference, But I’ve got more important things I have to deal with. Like the season finale of my favorite show, A bottle of Jack to finish and a party to throw! I guess I can try to help out, if I’ve got the time. We’ll see. Hey, look! Beer over there is buy-one-get-one-free! I gotta stock up for the big game tonight. Gotta go. I’m sure you got the problem covered, right? Drunks and liars and posers, you’re fired. Idiots, ********* worldwide mob masses. Outcasts that walk alone, self-loathers, homophobes. Jesus freaks. One more drink. Intelligence levels sink. Dumb jocks and ****** Gangbangers. Guerilla wars. Drop the dime, save the time. Pretend you’ve lost your mind. Uppers and downers. Immigrants, minors. Emos and cheaters, and ******* wife-beaters. ****** ex-girlfriends, freaks, frauds, text message sends. Alcoholics relapsing. Governments collapsing. Oil spills, anything for thrills. Hold on, just one more **** Suicide bombers, no mothers, no fathers. This world’s so ****** up, how will it end up? I don’t wanna know, don’t wanna see. Don’t make me face reality!
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Jan 31, 2012
Jan 31, 2012 at 12:22 AM UTC
The Worldwide Satire
I wake up and feel something is askew. Then I remember what I heard last night on the news. Then I push it aside and turn on the TV. I’m sure someone can deal with it better than me! Our politics are failing. Society’s flailing. Getting’ crushed under the weight of our own pompous detailing. But I don’t mind, there’s nothing I can do. I’ll just grab a bite, get another tattoo. Maybe by the time I’m done, it’ll have worked itself out. If it hasn’t I’ll just shut my eyes and think of something else! I guess I could try to make a difference, But I’ve got more important things I have to deal with. Like the season finale of my favorite show, A bottle of Jack to finish and a party to throw! I guess I can try to help out, if I’ve got the time. We’ll see. Hey, look! Beer over there is buy-one-get-one-free! I gotta stock up for the big game tonight. Gotta go. I’m sure you got the problem covered, right? Drunks and liars and posers, you’re fired. Idiots, ********* worldwide mob masses. Outcasts that walk alone, self-loathers, homophobes. Jesus freaks. One more drink. Intelligence levels sink. Dumb jocks and ****** Gangbangers. Guerilla wars. Drop the dime, save the time. Pretend you’ve lost your mind. Uppers and downers. Immigrants, minors. Emos and cheaters, and ******* wife-beaters. ****** ex-girlfriends, freaks, frauds, text message sends. Alcoholics relapsing. Governments collapsing. Oil spills, anything for thrills. Hold on, just one more **** Suicide bombers, no mothers, no fathers. This world’s so ****** up, how will it end up? I don’t wanna know, don’t wanna see. Don’t make me face reality!
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33
Your buttons looked like smiling faces Green fire below your every step Green like the sea Green like algae growing on the tips Of rocks That protrude from your knuckles Bare flesh becomes red flesh Under the weight of the gaze Tear collecter You bore me with stories of frailty Yeah, I know I'm human and life is fragile and all that jazz I just want to **** some brain cells That's why I waste my money on coral And pearls Hairspray_ letters and bone marrow Drinking licorice Smoking incense Sparking up a glass pipe Full of Apple blossoms Colorless Oderless Gasoline fumes Coat up my lungs with lackluster black lesions Uppers downers lefters Drill a hole through mg skull if you love me Dump some 409 in my skull if you love me Nothing feels better Than Mr. Clean jumping in my veins From the mouth of the needle At least this time I saved enough money To buy a pencil So I could write this poem
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Feb 12, 2012
Feb 12, 2012 at 2:18 AM UTC
Valerian
She is "The Monarch" of her own little world Makeup applied and drowning in pearls She walks down the halls of a house long abandoned Regret stays beside her, her only companion Memories play out like an opera before her She went for the gold but ended up poorer One foot is forced in front of the other Each step an echo of lost sisters and brothers To protect what matters a wall must be built Brick upon brick, fear stacked with guilt Exit the house, exit the dream Enter a reality of conflicting schemes Lucky for her she's loaded with downers Schizophrenics grab both above and below counters Trembling fingers clutch at the rim Of a toilet containing this girl's ****** sin She drowns her pain in colors of joy Pinks, yellows, purples, to her mouth they deploy These soldiers are saviors, without them she's dead It's getting more common, the scream in her head She tried to fight back but her will was too frail The going got tough and everyone bailed But what happens to the general that loses an army "Perhaps ask the girl that's apparently self harming For she is a veteran of wars never won Invisible scars from invisible guns" Call for a truce, wave the white flag Nobody sees that the Queen's wearing rags Somebody save her because God is long gone She may not be breathing, flame extinguished come dawn Her enemies draw near, they sense she's grown tired Dragged not just through mud but also through briars She can't ask for help with a lock on her lips Ropes around ankles and chains around wrists In a life filled with ultimatums, lies and distrust Ashes are more than just ashes, dust more than just dust The air becomes pain, each inhale near torture Her Highness doesn't chase the things that can scorch her So back into the dream, back into the house Never the lion but always the mouse Clean up the pearls and apply more concealer Confirm the next order with the local drug dealer A wilted rose with all its petals furled I am "The Monarch," this is my world.
0
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 12:27 AM UTC
Monarch
She is "The Monarch" of her own little world Makeup applied and drowning in pearls She walks down the halls of a house long abandoned Regret stays beside her, her only companion Memories play out like an opera before her She went for the gold but ended up poorer One foot is forced in front of the other Each step an echo of lost sisters and brothers To protect what matters a wall must be built Brick upon brick, fear stacked with guilt Exit the house, exit the dream Enter a reality of conflicting schemes Lucky for her she's loaded with downers Schizophrenics grab both above and below counters Trembling fingers clutch at the rim Of a toilet containing this girl's ****** sin She drowns her pain in colors of joy Pinks, yellows, purples, to her mouth they deploy These soldiers are saviors, without them she's dead It's getting more common, the scream in her head She tried to fight back but her will was too frail The going got tough and everyone bailed But what happens to the general that loses an army "Perhaps ask the girl that's apparently self harming For she is a veteran of wars never won Invisible scars from invisible guns" Call for a truce, wave the white flag Nobody sees that the Queen's wearing rags Somebody save her because God is long gone She may not be breathing, flame extinguished come dawn Her enemies draw near, they sense she's grown tired Dragged not just through mud but also through briars She can't ask for help with a lock on her lips Ropes around ankles and chains around wrists In a life filled with ultimatums, lies and distrust Ashes are more than just ashes, dust more than just dust The air becomes pain, each inhale near torture Her Highness doesn't chase the things that can scorch her So back into the dream, back into the house Never the lion but always the mouse Clean up the pearls and apply more concealer Confirm the next order with the local drug dealer A wilted rose with all its petals furled I am "The Monarch," this is my world.
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Paint Glitter Highlighters Water Glow in the dark Sharpie markers Canvas Red Bull Cigarettes Lighter Sparklers Feathers Chronic Uppers Downers Middlers Extravagent 4th dimension hyper being Nocturanal Drug Fiend Best Friend to the Speaker Bass Middle Fingers Breakdowns womp womp womp
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Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 5:03 PM UTC
womp