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"fda" poems
Don’t tell me it can’t all be equally shared Don’t tell me elections are fair Anywhere I know whose had the power The weapons to prove it The world in their hands And the money to move it Perpetual profit New product to cell Dwellin’ deep in the pocket Of your lol So don’t tell me with Twitter you’re not all Obsessed When you buy every lie presidential address Comin’ hot off the press Not so free to inform A pornhub tuggin’ ****** Publicity Storm And another blackout On my people uncovered Like Firestone burnin’ through natives Unrubbered Don’t tell me you don’t have the cure Or that war Isn’t waged on the people To sheeple the poor To the industry slaughterhouse Dream factory Where success is a breath of fresh Debt peony I know slavery still puts That food on the table And big pharma’s FDA puppets, the label So don’t tell me dope is what’s making us Dumb Don’t tell me my God’s not the LSD sun Or that guns aren’t hired To desecrate my Sanctified inner peace Keepin’ graffiti sky For my ties to this earth Are invaluable worth So don’t tell me my rights haven’t been mine Since birth
0
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 4:55 PM UTC
Don’t Tell Me...
so the ***** FDA could take a day off not that that will will away the shame of cash crop chousing easy speaking tightrope swinging prohibition saga buzz without a buzz 11/4/2012
0
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 8:29 PM UTC
Israel took the dope out of dope
battling demons or suffering PTSD with ADHD and OCD on TCH looking for LSD – need a little TLC from the FDA the EPA just went MIA and the UN blames the FBI while the CIA and the NSA seek the PLO – brb LOL, IDK the shizzle is cray cray ****** be trippin er’ry day like Ross say “don’t **** wit me” – the USA in betrothed to the NRA and OSHA just gave me a passing score at the same time as the AMA failed my blood stylistically, this is MLA and functionally it’s more WWE TNT CNN t’n’a --
0
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
acronym attack
i am the controlled group i expected interferon and i got a saline injection hepatitis c is the monster hiding under my skin i've called for 300,000 favors from faceless friends - IRC, IRBs, dietitians, physicians to try to cheat the system and to cheat the 4 horsemen harbinging my own internal apocalypse "If they don't give me anything," I began calmly to my wife; "the scars on my guts will generate another Chernobyl out of frustration; out wanting to see my son graduate." my white blood cell count is 3 and i will wreck this study go to mexico and buy as much real medicine as i need to survive rudely refusing the FDA's 50% miracle drug the ingenious intravenous sugar pill i only have 3 white blood cells circumventing valuable scientific knowledge is not off the table i will walk away in slow motion after saving my liver from hepatitis hellfire horse jockeys in lab coats with the entirety of clinical research burning behind me
0
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 8:02 AM UTC
placebo
My minotaur has mad cow's disease. The FDA is rounding up each one in a forty mile radius for slaughter. They're incinerating the bodies at the trash-to-steam factory. I hear gunfire and wailing children. Sharon next door is in shock. She's been on her knees down on the lawn mumbling, "please, please, please," for the last two hours. Crimson clouds bleed into sunrise. How will we escape the seepage? I'll stop at the Getty for a car wash before I pick you up. Have some sandwiches packed. O for the love of God, the moos, the moos.
0
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 9:25 PM UTC
Early Phone Call
If Stephen King was black Obama would not be president Segregation would exist all over again OJ would have gotten guilty without a trial Except the black part would be technologically advanced cars that navigate themselves Sonic energy distribution portable wings the Rockateer would also therefore be black Disney Land would be scary and real Darwin would have been black Go go Gadget’s engineer would be black Malcolm X would have been mixed race Carl Sagan ran the blackest gang in Oakland If Stephen King was black Therefore Stephen Hawkings is black too Einstein invented Compton in ten minutes On a coffee break The bees Einstein was referring to are the African Killa bees And Einstein was the father of Wu tang Stephen Hawkings hangs out with Mike Tyson and Alicia Keys The Black Panthers like every other morning in the blackest house Washington DC Made me eggs benedict with fresh eggs and ham Dr Seuss is therefore black by association Aunt Jemima would run the FDA and tap maples trees in the Berkshires But she is white now America would turn a blind eye and play more volley ball and in us God would trust
0
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 11:35 AM UTC
If Stephen King was black...
My minotaur has mad cow's disease. The FDA is rounding up each one in a forty mile radius for slaughter. They're incinerating the bodies at the trash-to-steam factory. I hear gunfire and wailing children. Sharon next door is in shock. She's been on her knees down on the lawn mumbling, "please, please, please," for the last two hours. Crimson clouds bleed into sunrise. How will we escape the seepage? I'll stop at the Getty for a car wash before I pick you up. Have some sandwiches packed. O for the love of God, the moos, the moos.
0
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 6:04 PM UTC
Early Phone Call
Self-cut ginger locks that ooze pretension pontificating so bluntly about "Cinema" He buys Sociology textbooks at GoodWill, TL;DR, but they look good on a dusty shelf don't they? Mocking potential reactions to his apparent ignorance. A stoner who has never been high, An existentialist who has never known what it is to die A stargazer who has never seen the sky, Highly expectant yet always refuses to try. Ridicules what he doesn't understand Taste so bland, could swear he was conceived by the FDA in a public school kitchen.
0
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 2:53 PM UTC
Sam
So there's this new fad diet The Diet of Worms..... Can you tell me bout it doc? Is it good for your health? And I don't quite understand. Is it the worms we eat or do we eat dirt and sand?   In any case it sounds expensive.   10+% of everything I earn? And you have to commit your entire life or according to this pamphlet "your soul will surely burn"?  Wow...must really work!   But tell me has the FDA approved, found the claims to be true?  Any side effects, complications? Could I possibly turn blue?   And why were no American researchers and experts on the team that concocted this diet? OK OK doc I'll let you talk, I'll be quiet...... "I've taken it on faith that my patients who've tried it swear that its a miracle....I have no personal experience with it ...give it a shot who knows it might work.". Hmmmm OK. "But I heard they have a litany of products so beware that your investment doesn't soon quadruple in size." Thanks for the visit doc, Ill take it under advice.  I think I might....... especially if there's a refund if I don't like it after trying it and don't think it worth the price.
0
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 7:07 AM UTC
Diet of Worms
Great fades to gray where commonplace turns to decay where the abnormal becomes negatively neurological which leads to the ingestion of government sector sedatives and we wonder why segregation of brain and mind is prominent promises never kept and mind that never gets better but before we fix the broken we must make you broke. Objects in the mirror to fit society's standards E news, TMZ, fox- all the new cancer. Throw your money at it make it go away and watch in awe as the auction of your autonomy accelerates- your mind is money to the highest bidder and they don't budge when they watch your wallet quiver. Quiet in the courtroom- little Kyle's got a drug charge searched his car without consent convict at the age of sixteen which is sickening to see. Kyle was just depressed and needed a little THC the only thing that would help him with social anxiety and now he's facing a charge for not taking the meds marijuana manipulation of the municipals and now little kyle won't be able to go to a good school 18 the record will be swiped clean but the debt of the courtroom creeps into his credit. Society's white lies will tell you you'll be fine debt from the courtroom turn to slanging dope- dealing with depression while dealing in possession pulled over, twice moreover propaganda's progression. They feed us the same lies we go out of our way to buy- news channels, channeling bias views for more views sitting idly by as our lives pass through changing channels as we become the chattel slaves to our own brain waves from the manipulation we love to bow down to this free nation led by puppets- controlled by intimidation tactics. It's just backwards, the backbone of the nation doesn't have one Columbine happened because little Kyle could get a gun, run- repeat until it's done, dictating your discrimination it's fun until everyone has to run away from the shooter. Bangs heard throughout the world talk of how his head was on backwards smoking on these backwoods But he was off the marijuana and on the medicine- FDA approved turned into a bullet to the head. BANG. Sinister structure of society- **** america why did you have to lie to me.
0
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC
Keeping Your Logic Elusive
Great fades to gray where commonplace turns to decay where the abnormal becomes negatively neurological which leads to the ingestion of government sector sedatives and we wonder why segregation of brain and mind is prominent promises never kept and mind that never gets better but before we fix the broken we must make you broke. Objects in the mirror to fit society's standards E news, TMZ, fox- all the new cancer. Throw your money at it make it go away and watch in awe as the auction of your autonomy accelerates- your mind is money to the highest bidder and they don't budge when they watch your wallet quiver. Quiet in the courtroom- little Kyle's got a drug charge searched his car without consent convict at the age of sixteen which is sickening to see. Kyle was just depressed and needed a little THC the only thing that would help him with social anxiety and now he's facing a charge for not taking the meds marijuana manipulation of the municipals and now little kyle won't be able to go to a good school 18 the record will be swiped clean but the debt of the courtroom creeps into his credit. Society's white lies will tell you you'll be fine debt from the courtroom turn to slanging dope- dealing with depression while dealing in possession pulled over, twice moreover propaganda's progression. They feed us the same lies we go out of our way to buy- news channels, channeling bias views for more views sitting idly by as our lives pass through changing channels as we become the chattel slaves to our own brain waves from the manipulation we love to bow down to this free nation led by puppets- controlled by intimidation tactics. It's just backwards, the backbone of the nation doesn't have one Columbine happened because little Kyle could get a gun, run- repeat until it's done, dictating your discrimination it's fun until everyone has to run away from the shooter. Bangs heard throughout the world talk of how his head was on backwards smoking on these backwoods But he was off the marijuana and on the medicine- FDA approved turned into a bullet to the head. BANG. Sinister structure of society- **** america why did you have to lie to me.
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48
I've allowed mud drenched tennis shoes to step on my fingers And FDA approved thoughts paint over mine Going along with the idea that this is better but once again, I'm wrong On a scale from 1-10 I don’t believe this is happening   You can't put your hands in my pockets and control my direction You can't take love away until its mixed feelings What kind of love is that? I said you can't change me into your perfect daughter You can't make my feet follow your footsteps You can't live in fear that ill find more peace in talking to razors than to you Apparently your doing something wrong I rather fry my brain cells Than you pick at them trying to change their makeup I rather burn holes in my lungs Than have your negative comments each at my heart Shouldn't you know from past experiences that kids will be kids? Stop wasting your anxiety and my depression on this Give me back my happiness rather than trying to conjure up me a new one
0
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
You Shouldn't
Today I saw an ad on the TV for the good life $129.99 and all you ever wanted delivered to your door in a box Shipping and handling included The man in the commercial had a big smile on And a golden retriever by his side Were sitting under palm trees Smoking cigars... Who doesn't want a cigar smoking golden retriever? So I called up the toll free number and demanded a good life... One week later the box came in the mail "There's no way a golden retriever could fit in there" I thought to myself "Not even a puppy retriever These must be the cigars" No cigars Just pills "Of course" thought I "Eating these will take me away To an alternate reality With palm trees, smiles And cigar smoking dogs Duh" So I ate the pill and closed my eyes Awaiting lift off Like I've done so Many times before One Mississippi             Two Mississippi                          Three, four, five Mississippi... And you know what happened next? My **** got hard for hours That's it Who's the sick SOB Who's idea of a good life Is an unexplainably long Lasting ***** I alerted the authorities Called the FDA They must have the answers... They just told me to visit the nearest hospital Everything will be fine... From that point on I have been lost inside And refuse to go outside I shut my windows And I lock the door I can't make sense of it... Why would I need to visit the docs? I'm not the one thinking Long lasting ****** Equals the good life ****** don't make retrievers smoke cigars I'm not the one with the problem Am I?
0
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 11:52 AM UTC
False Advertisement
Today I saw an ad on the TV for the good life $129.99 and all you ever wanted delivered to your door in a box Shipping and handling included The man in the commercial had a big smile on And a golden retriever by his side Were sitting under palm trees Smoking cigars... Who doesn't want a cigar smoking golden retriever? So I called up the toll free number and demanded a good life... One week later the box came in the mail "There's no way a golden retriever could fit in there" I thought to myself "Not even a puppy retriever These must be the cigars" No cigars Just pills "Of course" thought I "Eating these will take me away To an alternate reality With palm trees, smiles And cigar smoking dogs Duh" So I ate the pill and closed my eyes Awaiting lift off Like I've done so Many times before One Mississippi             Two Mississippi                          Three, four, five Mississippi... And you know what happened next? My **** got hard for hours That's it Who's the sick SOB Who's idea of a good life Is an unexplainably long Lasting ***** I alerted the authorities Called the FDA They must have the answers... They just told me to visit the nearest hospital Everything will be fine... From that point on I have been lost inside And refuse to go outside I shut my windows And I lock the door I can't make sense of it... Why would I need to visit the docs? I'm not the one thinking Long lasting ****** Equals the good life ****** don't make retrievers smoke cigars I'm not the one with the problem Am I?
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54
Ice Tinkles in Cocktail Glasses, At a Washington Hotel Lobby A Senator Brags about his Hobby It costs a lot of Upkeep to Maintain Racing Stock, Ah but Bridled & Reined Its Worth It, says the Chair of the FDA Committee Over Sight to the Rep From The  Pharmaceuticals Association As they Head to the Corner to whisper The Engineer At Major Automotive Tells them what he Sees for new Parts They are off tolerance But in the Chart It Shows only 3% Fatality, and It saves cash After the Discussion to table it for Now They break out the Bonuses for saving Money Dark Souls Cast Dark Shadows in Life With No Respect For Honesty or Right Can't they see in a Flash, they fly into the Abyss For all their Money..... On a Carpet of Cash
0
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 6:33 PM UTC
Tricked into The Abyss
I’ve seen some patterns that happen every day In the growth and the stagnant way we decay In these walls with no windows and the teachers all glazed Eye’s glazed from the all-consuming glooming haze Of what we all must become someday, right? So live it up now because in ten years we’ll be settled We’ll either grind it out or run away from the ghetto To suburbia where no black man resides This is the land where white men all hide Have kids, hate your wife, hate your life because you have resigned To what you hated at sixteen because it happens all the time I need to SCREAM that this is not the only thing We are not all cogs in this machine that lacks life’s meaning Dr. Manhattan said that we’re all tied to strings And the FDA keeps on poisoning Well he had a point and our food disappoints But we are not hopeless, we can anoint Our own power to see the strings that toy with girls and boys And slow the rate at which we destroy Our own bodies and homes and the earth and our minds We are capable of breaking societal binds Beat So pass that joint to the **** and get out Because substance doesn’t need more substance when your mind could spill out From thinking, from capability, from plane to plane Polluting the air while you pollute your own brain I’m not disrespecting, there’s always a place But get out of that scene so you can get out of the race to the end Of youthful reputation that always constantly needs mending Escaping won’t help because it’s always just pretending We are not victims and we are not martyrs We have contributed to this world from the very start Of our ephemeral, radical, illogical existence With our parents raising us to never know resistance But it’s in our bodies we just refuse to assist it The birth is messy, ****** not gut-free, completely you and completely me Covered in what we call wicked tragedy And from the womb of our souls we take a new body with standards to break It slithers from slender thighs like a domesticated snake Down our legs and across the floor so we can FINALLY RELATE To a world that this city doesn’t know A world outside of the common, the rotting, the flow And you know that I know that we know we can feel it We feel it because we can hardly believe it
0
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 1:42 PM UTC
Beat Poetry in 2012
I’ve seen some patterns that happen every day In the growth and the stagnant way we decay In these walls with no windows and the teachers all glazed Eye’s glazed from the all-consuming glooming haze Of what we all must become someday, right? So live it up now because in ten years we’ll be settled We’ll either grind it out or run away from the ghetto To suburbia where no black man resides This is the land where white men all hide Have kids, hate your wife, hate your life because you have resigned To what you hated at sixteen because it happens all the time I need to SCREAM that this is not the only thing We are not all cogs in this machine that lacks life’s meaning Dr. Manhattan said that we’re all tied to strings And the FDA keeps on poisoning Well he had a point and our food disappoints But we are not hopeless, we can anoint Our own power to see the strings that toy with girls and boys And slow the rate at which we destroy Our own bodies and homes and the earth and our minds We are capable of breaking societal binds Beat So pass that joint to the **** and get out Because substance doesn’t need more substance when your mind could spill out From thinking, from capability, from plane to plane Polluting the air while you pollute your own brain I’m not disrespecting, there’s always a place But get out of that scene so you can get out of the race to the end Of youthful reputation that always constantly needs mending Escaping won’t help because it’s always just pretending We are not victims and we are not martyrs We have contributed to this world from the very start Of our ephemeral, radical, illogical existence With our parents raising us to never know resistance But it’s in our bodies we just refuse to assist it The birth is messy, ****** not gut-free, completely you and completely me Covered in what we call wicked tragedy And from the womb of our souls we take a new body with standards to break It slithers from slender thighs like a domesticated snake Down our legs and across the floor so we can FINALLY RELATE To a world that this city doesn’t know A world outside of the common, the rotting, the flow And you know that I know that we know we can feel it We feel it because we can hardly believe it
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44
you’re one thing on the job I’m one thing on the you but there’s no-one thing, we’re all things brains firing without the permission of the NRA, fluoxetine, the American MA doc talk, talk, talk to me tell me your game plan, without the permission, your boss on the job, another thing – a second
0
Mar 12, 2011
Mar 12, 2011 at 2:08 PM UTC
the FDA
They warned me about you. I read the nutrition facts and saw the ingredients. The FDA didn't fail to inform me, you were no good for me. Toxic, even. I knew this all but you... always smelt better than you looked or tasted, Like a lemon poppyseed, with salt for sugar- strange and savory, but I should stop eating. Ocean muffin maybe made for a bird flying low, or some big fish swimming in shallow waters. I was the bird flying low, with no luck in the wild, searching for scraps, and saw one in tact. It held promise. Swallowed you whole and lost all of my feathers expelling you out. You were for the big fish. The ones who only bite off what they can chew. I cannot consume you who poisons me.
0
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 9:15 AM UTC
Tasteless
My frustration told me That madness would Answer my prayer but I tried going mad, Screaming Holy! in Acred forests Grabbing at atmospheric Redemption and sunlight forgiveness I tried going mad Waving lone **** heartache In crowds of closed-box Timid hurt, "I'm sorry I'm sorry!" I tried going mad Dancing barstool homeless Through heavenly hallways Laughing insanity, "Take my eyes!" I tried going mad Cursing schoolhouse process-plant Ideology and worship "Where is the FDA when You need them?" I tried going mad         In streets of gold With hungry hungry Empty sick blindness Taunting me, "Get a job!" I tried going mad With Poe and Shelley and Thomas and Wilde All howling humanity All singing Patriam I tried going mad         In type, Even seeing briefly Line/break suicide On liquid crystal display   Oh! I tried going mad But my soul dragged me To earthcore wisdom and Vibrated my atomic scaffolding Immaculate
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Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 8:54 PM UTC
I tried going mad
It’s because I’ve been wanting to text you, but didn’t want you to think I was planning on texting you at a certain time. So I wait til two minutes past the hour, just long enough to seem random, but not so long that I explode from impatience. Exploding is an FDA acknowledged side affect of impatience, in case you were wondering.
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Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 1:02 PM UTC
If you get a text from me at something oh two
I always make things harder than it needs to be, I run in circles and complain when I'm dizzy, walk up a steeper route only to slide all the way down to the bottom, push everyone far enough for them to leave then say I'm lonely. It's funny what I can ruin – everything. I'm like a chemical, the only one known to corrode friendships and rust nothing but itself. Not approved by the FDA and definitely not fit for human consumption. I reek of such acidity that I hurt fragile corneas and sting delicate noses. It's kind of ironic because I'm supposed to only react with this peculiar clear liquid called self-sabotage and only that, but somehow I have managed to slip and ruin everything that comes in contact with me. Maybe one day I'll find someone that doesn't mind damaged corneas and sharp smells up their nose. Maybe one day I myself won't mind it.
0
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 2:30 AM UTC
not fda approved
Hotel *** shortly after we arrive, eye call the front desk and ask them when was the first time we stayed at the hotel? 2010, five years, usually once, sometimes twice de a year was the answer. in their computer, the management records our modest likes, preferred newspapers, the firmness of our pillows and that we require telephonic advisories to adjacent rooms, code worded Kilimanjaro, *when we engage in Grade A, FDA approved hotel *** noisy, twisted, sheet messed, bubble bathed, wall climbing, chandelier swinging, room device only, do not disturb, full on, *hotel *** but times change us and this time eye reach repeatedly for her bare arms, and one in ten, one in ten, I dare to gentle, to caress... lest eye awaken her...nothing changes, everything changes, the satisfactions express themselves differently...time zone changes, alter body clocks and needs are not auto-instinctual, more cerebral, and yet eye tend to her both  like my woman and beloved child, anticipating her almost every need...and wonder where that *hotel *** drive got misplaced... them glory days...* when they ask if our stay was satisfying, my verbal reply is both invisibly straight and di-visibly crooked... "holey satisfactory, holy satisfactory" and ever eye am the pun, the jokester par excellent, hugging nuggets of previous journeys... retrieved from cold storage, recollections  of *ah, hot hotel ***
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May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 5:07 PM UTC
Hotel S_x May 2015
Today in an ****** epidemic, Little feeling empathetic. Empathetic for the young lives, Affected by this epidemic. Mothers, fathers popping pills to make them feel, If it’s okay according to the FDA then this is a real ordeal. Inflicting pain on the young hearts Families once whole, now ripped apart, hard. For pain they call it therapeutical, In reality place the blame on Pharmaceuticals. The doctors who prescribed the pills for pain, Only for the addictiveness to take over the brains, The brain keeping us sane until we swerve a little too far out of our lane, Into the rubble the car crashes, You know you’re in trouble when family dynamic is nothing but ashes, Once a loving mother, father, sister, brother. Now they can’t remember one another. A simple prescription turning into a burden, an addiction. Your once young teenage daughter Until the day we caught her. Locking her door, Always wanting more. It began simple with Marijuana, Then someone asked, “You wanna?” This will make you feel nice, But she never asked, at what price… A simple anxiety pill, Xanax, Then everything downhill, she panicked. A legal prescription “Medicine” Quote from Tomas Edison, “I have not failed, I’ve just found 100 ways that won’t work, But with a smirk Now she’s aware, that is the perk. That’s the confliction, the confliction with the concept of addiction, Definition of addiction, the fact or condition of being addicted to a particular substance, thing, or activity. Now that’s the subscription, you subscribed to the addiction. Paying for the new issue monthly Only the best for you honey. Full ride scholarship, Until she slipped. All the way down, rock bottom. Hit the ground, she couldn’t hear them. Screaming for her to stop, Until the day she climbed to the rooftop, She didn’t ever fall, Maybe it would have been best for her after all, If she jumped to let go, Because after all we know how far she’ll go. The constant desire, The desire to light the fire, The fire under her pipe, doing what the monster said was right. The finding of the final stage, the monster, The true destruction of your once perfect girl. She took the blame, Her mother claimed it was her who felt the pain, The pain forcing her to take the blame when it was just her best interest to maintain, Keep her brain happy before she go insane, Insane from all the pain that a simple pill caused, She’s simply trying to maintain… Do we blame the victim? Push them down kick them? The true destruction of her mind, Something legal, Yet truly evil. If it’s FDA approved, Is it really okay to do?
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Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 2:32 PM UTC
The FDA Said It Was OKAY
Today in an ****** epidemic, Little feeling empathetic. Empathetic for the young lives, Affected by this epidemic. Mothers, fathers popping pills to make them feel, If it’s okay according to the FDA then this is a real ordeal. Inflicting pain on the young hearts Families once whole, now ripped apart, hard. For pain they call it therapeutical, In reality place the blame on Pharmaceuticals. The doctors who prescribed the pills for pain, Only for the addictiveness to take over the brains, The brain keeping us sane until we swerve a little too far out of our lane, Into the rubble the car crashes, You know you’re in trouble when family dynamic is nothing but ashes, Once a loving mother, father, sister, brother. Now they can’t remember one another. A simple prescription turning into a burden, an addiction. Your once young teenage daughter Until the day we caught her. Locking her door, Always wanting more. It began simple with Marijuana, Then someone asked, “You wanna?” This will make you feel nice, But she never asked, at what price… A simple anxiety pill, Xanax, Then everything downhill, she panicked. A legal prescription “Medicine” Quote from Tomas Edison, “I have not failed, I’ve just found 100 ways that won’t work, But with a smirk Now she’s aware, that is the perk. That’s the confliction, the confliction with the concept of addiction, Definition of addiction, the fact or condition of being addicted to a particular substance, thing, or activity. Now that’s the subscription, you subscribed to the addiction. Paying for the new issue monthly Only the best for you honey. Full ride scholarship, Until she slipped. All the way down, rock bottom. Hit the ground, she couldn’t hear them. Screaming for her to stop, Until the day she climbed to the rooftop, She didn’t ever fall, Maybe it would have been best for her after all, If she jumped to let go, Because after all we know how far she’ll go. The constant desire, The desire to light the fire, The fire under her pipe, doing what the monster said was right. The finding of the final stage, the monster, The true destruction of your once perfect girl. She took the blame, Her mother claimed it was her who felt the pain, The pain forcing her to take the blame when it was just her best interest to maintain, Keep her brain happy before she go insane, Insane from all the pain that a simple pill caused, She’s simply trying to maintain… Do we blame the victim? Push them down kick them? The true destruction of her mind, Something legal, Yet truly evil. If it’s FDA approved, Is it really okay to do?
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66
Made from ground up leaf of sassafras taste like the bottom of the bayou shrimp boil smoke and gators sprinkle it on stir it in don't cook it or your gumbo gets stringy-ew Choctaws knew FDA will tell you it's poison like strong words bad haircuts keep sipping your KoolAid please nothing but magic in filé flavor of down-home voodoo zydeco iron skillet cornbread Mama knows what's good for you
0
Mar 27, 2018
Mar 27, 2018 at 12:19 PM UTC
The Benefits of Gumbo Filé
Your world is going perfectly Your life is as you want it You are healthy and in good spirits You have a beautiful life, spouse, family - You are an alternative physician making a real difference - helping people, healing their bodies, eschewing petrochemical prescription drugs, using ancient knowledge to make them well - making their lives better. And then you die. Three doctors, all “alternative,” all targeted by the FDA and other government entities . . . all dead within two weeks. Coincidence? If you think so, I have half a bridge across Tampa Bay to sell you.
0
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 1:59 AM UTC
Imagine
I smelled him. Like musty cigarettes and stale marijuana smoke his cologne curled under my nose and itched it's way inside until my memory regurgitated that night to my retinas over and over and over again. I sat curled up in a fetal position playing it again in my mind the way he smelled so familiar but so dangerous I didn't know.  I didn't know. I didn't know. I was asked who it was- I can only remember the face of a female but the male who took me away in the night to sit on his lap so he could paint me red with regret I see no reflection in the mirror beside me. I see no reflection behind my eyelids of who he is- So I just replied, family friend. But he was no friend of mine even though half my family probably did befriend him. I was 7- that was the year my innocence left and the only noise around me I could hear were whispers because everything I seemed to do had to be in secret. I felt sexuality creep up behind me, put me into a chokehold and made me say your name until it would let me go but I couldn't answer, I couldn't tell it even though I wanted to- So it never let go. It still has me by my throat and whenever I try to tell someone the grip becomes tighter and the oxygen begins to leave my brain and it feels as if it has happened all over again. My lungs are made of tar, and my liver of FDA approval because even though I never smoked cigarettes the smell of you encases what it takes for me to breathe and the pills helped take away the memory or at least manage it for the time being until I got bad again and the pills weren't enough to work anymore they just bled through my hands when I tried to take them and when I would finally get the courage to pop them into my mouth, they would get lost in the lining of esophagus because you're still buried there. And you took away what I thought I needed for survival. I was broken and the pieces left were shell casings of your cologne and a painted dark figure in a mirror I'll never be able to make-out. I have wondered for so long if my mind was just harvesting- waiting for this memory to grow back in time with a little anti-depressants and a little alcohol it would all come back But it never did. I was 13 when my memory planted the seeds of you in my mind- I'm 20 now and you're still just a scarecrow in an empty field but somehow, I'm the one looking for a brain that can somehow map out your ****** features or even spell out your name for me but I always come out empty. Memory is a tile floor cold and masking the destruction of what's really underneath. But sometimes you pull it back- and all you end up finding is mold.
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Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 11:24 AM UTC
Dusty Mirrors and Dark Rooms.
I smelled him. Like musty cigarettes and stale marijuana smoke his cologne curled under my nose and itched it's way inside until my memory regurgitated that night to my retinas over and over and over again. I sat curled up in a fetal position playing it again in my mind the way he smelled so familiar but so dangerous I didn't know.  I didn't know. I didn't know. I was asked who it was- I can only remember the face of a female but the male who took me away in the night to sit on his lap so he could paint me red with regret I see no reflection in the mirror beside me. I see no reflection behind my eyelids of who he is- So I just replied, family friend. But he was no friend of mine even though half my family probably did befriend him. I was 7- that was the year my innocence left and the only noise around me I could hear were whispers because everything I seemed to do had to be in secret. I felt sexuality creep up behind me, put me into a chokehold and made me say your name until it would let me go but I couldn't answer, I couldn't tell it even though I wanted to- So it never let go. It still has me by my throat and whenever I try to tell someone the grip becomes tighter and the oxygen begins to leave my brain and it feels as if it has happened all over again. My lungs are made of tar, and my liver of FDA approval because even though I never smoked cigarettes the smell of you encases what it takes for me to breathe and the pills helped take away the memory or at least manage it for the time being until I got bad again and the pills weren't enough to work anymore they just bled through my hands when I tried to take them and when I would finally get the courage to pop them into my mouth, they would get lost in the lining of esophagus because you're still buried there. And you took away what I thought I needed for survival. I was broken and the pieces left were shell casings of your cologne and a painted dark figure in a mirror I'll never be able to make-out. I have wondered for so long if my mind was just harvesting- waiting for this memory to grow back in time with a little anti-depressants and a little alcohol it would all come back But it never did. I was 13 when my memory planted the seeds of you in my mind- I'm 20 now and you're still just a scarecrow in an empty field but somehow, I'm the one looking for a brain that can somehow map out your ****** features or even spell out your name for me but I always come out empty. Memory is a tile floor cold and masking the destruction of what's really underneath. But sometimes you pull it back- and all you end up finding is mold.
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