"dramamine" poems
Drip yourself into a cup
Fill up your body with antiquity
Let the collagen insist
An allegory of Capricorn
Memories crystallised
Settled in
Forevers harvest
Insensitive
Misconstrued chemical
Collective symmetry's sin
A condition, livid
Fleeting in Human imagery
Ships break
Loop our tongued
Hands, tossed in Dramamine
Whittled in a succession of malleable fashion
Talent spilled spread in supper
Collate our atrophy
And drink from baroness
Flavours tarnished
Super-collider
Blood soaked in Gematria
A garden of totality
High brow comparison
Entitled in your vacuous stigma
Forever burning
In the lesser key of Solomon
28 daemon
Tessellation in trigonometry
Temperance towards an infinite
Champion of mind, complex
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
Relaxin' is a mental state
I like to be in.
Doin this entertainment business
makes you feel
more like
not a free man.
Sustenance is what I needed!
It's a must we get
back to the basics.
Let's forget self hatred.
It's too blatant...
The things we say and do
to make
me
you
Feel blue...
so blue...
so blue...
so blue...
Ahhh,
Take it easy
God please make me see
That I'm speakin in vein
about the pain I can't contain
without the doctor tellin me
***** you ****** crazy!
Unless you take a drug or 3
or some Dramamine... some Dramamine... some drama, I mean...
My mind state is buggin me
Why is no one lovin me
like my favorite soap opera star On tv?
I thought it was real and not a fallacy... and not a fallacy.
Why has my surroundings taught me
That I need a pill
to heal?
When all I need is some spiritual feed.
Relax...
Take my time...
Set a course...
Breathe in...
Thoughts of success and not divorce!
Breathe out...
Stress and pain feeling no remorse!
It's insane
that a mere mortal
could be on the border
when everything doesn't have to be
so stressed out (F'ed up!)
and outta order!
RELAX!!
Apr 11, 2010
Apr 11, 2010 at 11:53 AM UTC
Wasted words I should have thought instead of said
Wasted dreams of who knows what stuck in my head
Wasted thoughts and wasted time,
Wasted explosive dramamine
With about fifty billion fuses.
Wasted money
Wasted laughs
On wasted verbal acrobat
-ics that used to summon smiles,
T'would only last but for awhile
Before they'd disappear again
Though I may not see you,
You're still my friend.
Wasted smiles on
Wasted jokes
Wasted guys in overcoats
Written on pages
Never finished
Endless stages.
Wasted sorrow
Wasted pain
We may ne'er connect again
But I still love to make you laugh
Though you may think I'm such an ***
I am wasted.
Wasted for the better ends
Wasted for family and friends
But I still see where hope begins...
I am wasted.
May 16, 2010
May 16, 2010 at 3:07 PM UTC
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
Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 7:12 AM UTC
We are the people we are
Far from the people we should be
Humor makes up the difference
In every uncomfortable instance
Humor I must know
To soften the blow
And make life enjoyable
Humor is always employable
Negativity carelessly creeps
From somewhere deep
I feel tragedy
Grabbing me
I must rhetorically escape
These problems will deflate
Once I receive a joke
After taking a ****
With familiar folks
We're all somewhat stand-up comedians
In front of our friends
The pros have no way of seeing them
So specificity we lend
It can be trite and true
Or bright and new
Curing the blues
To help get you through
To keep from constantly imagining
The endless amount of tragedy
I must have a sense of humor
To ignore the hectic rumors
Or the life ending tumors
Or the treacherous suitors
My only tools are words
And all my words are tools
Turning sages into fools
If they want to bring me down
My words can steal their crown
The albatross around my naked neck
Is my greatest source of comedy
Adding perspective to a stacked deck
Turning drama into Dramamine
Putting on a mask like Halloween
When the darkness follows me
Humor keeps me from wallowing
In my own self pity
I'd rather feel giddy
I hate myself so much sometimes
Humor can help remove that grime
Not getting rid of it completely
But not letting it cut so deeply
It's the only thing that can treat me
When life decides to beat me
I respond by feasting
On pain
And ******** out harmless humor
Which drains
The sensation of being a loser
That feeling you get when your friends laugh
That feeling you get when your friends clap
Like violent gunshots in the distance
Humor alleviates the agony of existence
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 2:39 AM UTC
He awoke at four that morning with the sunrise.
"Time to go, babe, get ready," he said with a smile,
Thinking I had been asleep, unaware
I lied awake all night, waiting anxiously.
I wondered if he thought it rather strange,
His little girl wanted to deep-sea fish.
He hand-made ham sandwiches with cheddar cheese--
(Because he knows that cheddar is my favorite)--
And then forced me to take some dramamine.
"It keeps you from puking your lunch," he teased.
I didn't fuss at him for giving me the **** pills.
I was ready to catch my first Atlantic shark.
Florida's early mornings aren't that warm,
So he gave me his old jean jacket as we drove south.
The dock was full of average sailor types--
Our captain's name was Anderson, I think.
Anderson looked just like his boat too,
Weathered by the wicked waves of the ocean.
The boat would swerve and I would sway so awkwardly,
Unbalanced like a newborn giraffe.
Dad gripped my shaking shoulders and whooped,
"This one's gonna be a beauty, you can mark my words!"
I snatched, tugged, and reeled violently--!
The beast finally surfaced with the tiniest plash.
She wiggled on the hook, to my mild astonishment,
Slippery, slime-covered, and small in size.
"It's a white snapper!" Anderson boomed.
She was sixteen inches and diamond white,
Glistening in the sun like the greatest treasure.
Dad patted me on the back, chest swollen with pride.
Catching Atlantic sharks didn't matter now.
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 9:15 AM UTC
My eyes are bloodshot,
Im drunk with knowledge,
Stumbling home in the darkness of morning,
Dramamine floating on through my ears,
senses dulled
my worn feet drag me toward my home.
Beyond comprehension
Beyond any sort of caring
High on apathy, I'm jaded beyond myself.
Accomplishments only open doors to criticism
to further my cynicism.
My sight is dry from ebony text on manila pages,
and LED lights.
I trudge in the quiet of the small town night,
no one was a awake and light was foreign
the only sight allowed was held hostage by the sickly
orange streetlights that depressed me more than
the situation itself.
Home.
Bathroom.
Bed.
Rest.
Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 3:04 PM UTC
"cease fire" spouts microphone,
hot blood on tongue,
the wheels whirl,
dramamine for my ex-girlfriends,
dramamine for my future binge--
will this time do?
"listen, listen",
nah-- there's a war on,
we've got **** to do,
dramamine for the foothills of Dakota,
dramamine for the brothels of Orleans,
will I make the sun?
the vultures feast prematurely,
the death masque,
the collegiate, the ******* and the cry--
dramamine for the funeral singer,
dramamine for the swollen shrapnel,
let's just wait for the savior.
Apr 13, 2011
Apr 13, 2011 at 10:21 PM UTC
100 milligrams of flexeril
to relax my beating heart
until the muscle stops
flexing
beating
pumping.
100 milligrams of restoril
and maybe
finally
i can sleep.
maybe
i can finally sleep.
waking up has become such a chore
such an unpleasant experience
and if this doesn't stop it,
nothing will.
flexeril and restoril
and 45 milligrams
of methadone
because all i could score
was four and a half pills.
30 milligrams of phenagren
just to make sure
i can keep it all down.
i heard you could use
dramamine
but hey,
who wants to risk it?
i've taken my last chance.
15 milligrams of xanax
and if i can make it
for another hour or so
i won't even remember
what i've done.
this will end with a clean slate,
me on the floor
*******
saying mother,
mother,
what the **** did i do?
if i can speak at all.
290 milligrams
to prove
this is not
a cry for help.
Apr 30, 2012
Apr 30, 2012 at 1:30 PM UTC
She radiates brilliance based on fine features, good form and skillfully applied cosmetics.
He balances confidence and accessibility with an unerring certainty of success.
The universe is expanding, Inflation rampant,
Stretching everything more than any yoga instructor would allow.
Our planet is stuck in motion at hundreds of thousands kilometers per second.
I stock up on Dramamine and Ginger Ale.
She worries that she will never see him again.
He is lost in the business of the day.
These galaxies race away from us faster than the speed of light
And are accelerating more each trillionth of a second.
Some Alien out there has calculated that this is the last week to DVR an episode of the Game of Thrones before losing all contact.
Some Star Watcher is now stuck with a static picture of this faraway galaxy
from here on out.
She is not simply a set of particles:
she is moving very fast.
In relation to her changing position in space,
he is moving even faster.
This universe is not stable;
It strays too far from itself
Running away from a past that was too small.
This universe is accelerating
As if it has immunity from moving violations
Or has appropriately mounted a very good radar detector.
One day her particles and his
Will dance tumultuously in the debris encircling some infant sun
Or get pulled into a black hole.
She radiates,
He balances,
The universe inflates,
Stretching everything way beyond belief
And ultimately, slightly out of reach.
-- Zumwalt (copied from www.zumpoems.com)
Aug 12, 2011
Aug 12, 2011 at 1:14 PM UTC
Sun sick, drinking
Gatorade, and
washing down
a sleeping aid;
a Dramamine for
dizzy dreams, and
vitamins with
herbal tea.
God forgot you
long ago,
and He will miss
your funeral;
He’s working
nine to five these days
at just above
the minimum wage.
The panic starts.
Your life will end—
you never saw
the pyramids,
or stood below
a waterfall,
(the movies made that
look so cool).
You had a kid, though,
raised her right;
she made you laugh
on chemo-nights—
and she’s a mirror
of her dad,
(but she’s always
had your laugh).
There is nothing
to be learned,
the end must come
for all of us;
but you feel strong
despite your fear—
and you could live
another year.
Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 10:43 PM UTC
I'd like to be
Bukowski today,
I'd like
to get a good **** in
before
dusk,
and a good drink in
at some point,
I've wanted some Wild Turkey
more than anything.
A good ****
when done right
without
the spring-loaded
traps of love,
just *******
until your body swells,
can make you come
for days,
and a good drink
is good for washing out
sadness as it pukes dramamine
in your stomach,
and Bukowski for a day
would be a lemon.
This is pretentious
as **** I am a
pretentious ****
Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 8:50 AM UTC
Back stage everyone was in a huff getting ready for the show
The critics were in the balconies
The understudies waited jealously in the wings
A fresh crop of new actors were about to take the plunge
To some this was just a pit stop to fame
To others this was their big break
And to the rest it was a moment where people would chew them out and pick at all their rookie moves
The actresses eye make up so rainbow-vibrant
Like oil spots
Popping Dramamine so they'll be able to stomach the ride
The men putting brill cream in their hair
Looking like quaffed oil slicks
Like they ran their fingers down an dip stick and applied generously
They all had great, even sun tans
Melanoma was of no concern in the tanning beds
And the burnt skin was just picked away
Sunspots
Here it comes curtain call
"Places everyone"
Time for this debacle
Everyone take a lap at the salt lick for luck
Take a bow
Not a dry eye in the house
They cast recedes back stage
Crying, hugging
They congratulate each other
But now live in paranoia of what the reviews will say
The applause outside is nonstop
They're all gonna need Melatonin to sleep and end the excited squeaks
They all get in their cars
Their SUV's
4 doors
2 doors
Hummers
All terrain vehicles
Taxis
Buses
Trains
And get rest for the next show tomorrow
As I'm left here driven to madness by guilt
Because I paid off the crowd to clap and the pundits to write rave reviews
That was the act for this evening, a tor de force production
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 3:47 PM UTC
my furniture is sentient
and i am not as real
as i might like to be.
mild hallucinations,
like dramamine
without the paranoia.
is this a dissociative?
i did a little research
and i was going to have a sitter
but it came early and i
wanted to try it and - yes
i am just one bad decision
away from prison, one bad
decision away from lying
unconscious in a ditch.
salvia is legal and
causing me to calculate
the realities of the life
i am choosing to steer
with reckless ambition.
Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 10:45 PM UTC
floating backward
on my back down a muddy river
at a cloud's pace banked by willows & sweet clover
with long branches of oaks stretching across to meet
hot sunshine burning spots on my face forearms & stomach
an invisible hand forcing my eyes to stay closed
& projecting dancing pinwheels of
curled peacock fire on my thin eyelids
i can hear the echo voices of everyone on
shore whirling in the soft wet part of my brain
so awfully warbled by the water in my ears as
i lay there with top water debris spurting playfully
from my lips with a pinched smile
carved between my cheeks
thinking what a shame it'd be to drown
no longer caressed by willow branches trailing
across the surface
to sink down
under a blue sky during a cloud race
into a quiet place where words no longer mean anything
& all i can hear anyway is the profound hiss
of a dying airbubble slipping away from my nose
open my eyes to look i can see it escape
& explode ascending into sunlight
refracting just eight feet away
how wonderful it is to drift down into
the soft silk blanket of dark water
with all the pain & piano music in the world
trapped in my pounding heart
as my friends dive bomb to save me
the drumroll kicks in with the dramamine
& sweet pear wine i had in a pack lunch
to keep away the eager panic hunger
it's accompanied by the soft indie
plink & pluck of violin strings &
someone in suspenders blowing a harmonica
as the nothingness struggles to enfold me
crawling over the shiny pores of my face
while my friends peel back
at it in layers
by re-breathing
their whiskey into my lungs
beating my chest
with their closed fists
& blowing my nose into a t-shirt in the sand
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 8:39 AM UTC
Flying the friendly skies
no peanuts as
the allergists may die
Some drinks and Dramamine
oblivious to what
the flight may mean
Landing in the land of lays
eight nights
and nine days
A lou al and a dive
soon after we
arrive
I'll see ya'll in a bit
and that's all
there is
to it
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 3:09 PM UTC
maybe we could take a trip to one of those musical roads
that are cut to hum a tune
let our ears buzz away the dark thoughts threatening
slithering, come-hithering
slide inside my wisdom teeth set on edge
til my voice is honeybees and my throat a hive
now my whole body is a single note i can't sing
and my spine is b flat since
silence used to be my blinders but now it's garroting gas
and you keep telling me
that existence leans towards chaos as inevitably
as the force of crystallization
and the neat order we enjoyed is diffusing
and the bees are disappearing
so let's just be friends.
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
They say I'm in for a year long trip. But maybe less.
a year, or less, of sea sickness, the kind of which no Dramamine will soothe.
I'm surrounded by water I can't keep down
and kept afloat by dark women in white coats.
This clipboard is my life-vest.
Better say good bye now because,
when I finally wash ashore, it won't be to the home I left.
My bed will look very different.
My lover, too. It will be much longer than a year for her.
She'll live a lifetime, again and again, with every moon and every sun,
Her body revealing the truths her spirit can't yet face.
Until then she'll stand by water's edge and throw corked bottles of brilliant green past the froth, invoking Poseidon's dominion,
inaudible over the ocean's orchestral din.
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 5:14 PM UTC
love doesn't end
like piano keys
across an array,
the dream of a body
and a mind,
across the spray
of the ocean
and a memory
of kisses
shared in the screen
of a heart's blinding display,
i have hoped for a long time
for a bridging of time,
a feeling of the stomach
and it's dramamine
against hope.
Feb 18, 2012
Feb 18, 2012 at 12:03 AM UTC
Take your Dramamine
and don't worry
about your screaming,
it will be alright,
it's just twenty-two miles
of twisties.
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 2:25 PM UTC
Dramamine colds the soul, with or without any holes
With life has become something of another one
Wanting mass appeal yes and..soul appeal yes and
So I choke onnmy breakfast cereal
Conductive thoughts become real
You know you come up with, the best shitcuz youre sad sometimes
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 9:53 PM UTC
See
A bluebird, on my rib. My mom’s handwriting, on my back. A plane ticket, in my hand. More stamps in the passport, in my pocket. A friend by my side, running across the airport with me.
A new destination, a new place to use our education to help those in need.
Maybe this time we’ll be in Nicaragua, rooting out the political corruption.
Or maybe we’ll be in Cairo, negotiating refugee treaties.
Maybe we’ll be on a return flight home, to wherever home may be.
Smell
That very particular scent of airports, on busy nights. Perfume, my own. Laundry detergent, the same one I’ve always used. Also, the scent of two people who have been in the sun all day, helping somewhere.
These scents will become familiar.
The scent of the airport will smell like home.
Taste
Dramamine, the taste of rotten oranges.
Airplane food, the **** of so many bad jokes, actually tastes as bad as they say.
Mint gum, to get rid of the taste of the two mixed together.
Tomato juice, the flight attendant tells me how my taste buds change in the air,
I sit back, enjoy my tomato juice, and fall asleep.
At peace, 30,000 feet above the world
Touch
Carrying a duffle bag in my hand, fingers turning red and cramping.
The feel of linoleum, or whatever 2028 airport floors are made of, under my feet.
Running to catch my flight. The relief of sitting in those awkwardly carpeted seats.
Shaking hands with the flight attendants, the feel of the plane engine rumbling.
Takeoff.
Hear
The sound of people chatting before and after takeoff.
The token screaming baby, the parents apologizing.
The flight attendants thanking us for flying whatever airline we were on this week.
Chatting with the people in the seat next to you about what you’re doing in the next place.
Feel
Happiness. Pure happiness.
The joy of looking out at the clouds, feeling like I’m on top of the world.
I am at peace with myself, I am fulfilling what I was made to do.
What my soul thrives on.
Who I am as a person has been discovered.
All 30,000 feet above the world.
SD 2/24/18
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
it all spewed from your mouth
like boiling hot coffee falling to the ground
you slipped me the cue, showing angles on the green
equations, calculations, you said it was easy
everything is easy to you
you spoke of flight patterns
and aerial views
you didn’t mention the airsickness
nor the dramamine pills
you drawled on and on
and the smoke rose to the top
smoke from the cigarette, steam from the coffee ***
a certain number of hours, you said,
was all you would need
as i held the wooden stick and
missed the ball again.
Mar 11, 2018
Mar 11, 2018 at 3:11 PM UTC
Ill rumors slid down my throat, gelatinous and coated in bitter mucus - reminiscent of when I was five years old, just dared to kiss a slug found in the school's daffodils. They burned my esophagus, leaving me without taste for days. They left me stumbling over too big, too-there feet to the nurse's office in search of Dramamine.
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 9:41 AM UTC